#would you give me your self or turn and run
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leighsartworks216 · 3 days ago
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Kiss Me
Sylus x fem!Reader
I need to go back to bed ough
Warnings: fluff, light angst, drunkenness, drinking, crying, cuddling, self-esteem issues, self-worth issues
Word Count: 975
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Sylus holds a wine glass in one hand, holding it to the side as you climb onto his lap. Legs on either side of his, body arched to align with his, face ducked down to stay close to his; you truly are a sight to behold.
"Kiss me," you demand. Your hands trace his jaw, feeling his skin, the warmth underneath it.
He grins softly. It's not quite a smirk, though it holds that same smug amusement. His hand holds your hip respectfully. Fingers tug down the hem of your dress to keep you decent.
"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie."
You frown. "Why not?"
Oh, you sweet thing. Your eyes keep flickering about his face, lingering on his lips, his eyes, his lips again. He takes his sweet time sipping from his glass. A slight tint of red stains his lips, licked away by his tongue. He can see the way your eyes glaze over as you stare.
"You're drunk," he reminds you. "You almost polished off my nice, expensive wine. Did you forget?"
The wine wasn't important. It was expensive, aged to perfection, sitting on the rack waiting for the best occasion - and you had him refill your glass before he even finished his.
He doesn't envy the headache you'll have come morning.
Your thumbs run along the flat of his cheeks, stroking back to his sideburns, before you slip your hands around his neck and into his hair. You scratch so sweetly at his scalp. He should stop it, stop you from so effortlessly turning him into putty under your attention. But he doesn't.
You brush your nose against his. Your breath carries the subtle notes of the wine with it. "'M not that drunk. And you're pretty... Kiss me, please."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Something dark flashes across his eyes. A fleeting shadow. If it were not his lap you were in right now, how quickly would anyone else give in to you, with you so demanding and beautiful? "Because you're drunk," he insists again, softly.
You huff in annoyance. "Is that the only reason you're gonna give me? Told you already, I'm not that drunk."
"It's the fact you've been drinking at all, sweetie." You roll your eyes, turning your head away at the rejection. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing your attention back to him. "I want you to be completely sober for our first kiss. Is that such a bad thing?"
You blink at him dumbly for a moment. "First kiss?"
"Mhm."
A beat, and then those gorgeous lips are curling into a wicked little grin. "'First' implies that there'd be more."
He releases your chin to brush loose strands of hair from your face. "And I want you to be sober enough to remember every single one."
"But if we kissed now..." You lean into his touch like a cat, rubbing your cheek against his hand before he can pull it away. "... we could have another first kiss later."
He chuckles. "You really want this, don't you, kitten?"
You whine with a nod. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you draw yourself into him, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt.
"Sometimes it feels hard to love you," you admit in a whisper. "You have everything. And I have nothing. Nothing to give you to- to make it worthwhile. Cuz that's what you deserve."
His heart aches. He sets his glass aside to hug you in return. Your words become slurred as you continue speaking, slow and messy. But genuine. He wishes he had the will to silence you now, to hear it all when you're of sound mind. But he's weak to this truth and the desire to hear it at your most vulnerable.
"But I want to... I want to love you so bad. And I do. So much... But I have nothing. The only thing I can give you is..." You wave a hand limply at your body. "This mess."
You sigh, hiding your face in his warm neck. He leans his head on yours. You sniffle quietly.
"Would kissing me make you happy?"
He squeezes his arms tighter around you. Readjusts so you're sitting more comfortably across his lap instead of straddling him. He even grabs a blanket with his Evol to wrap it around your shoulders, tucking the corners in so you're protected from the cold in your little black dress that drives him wild.
"Being near you makes me happy," he answers. "Seeing you, hearing you, talking with you - everything about you makes me happy. I don't need your body to be happy. You don't need to throw yourself at me to love me."
You sniffle again. Hot droplets of water fall to his skin. Your voice shakes. "But would kissing me make you happy?"
"When you're sober," he begins slowly, carefully, "and I kiss you for the first time, I'll be the happiest man in the universe."
"Really?"
He gently pulls you from his neck. You've got tears already staining your cheeks. Makeup running, lip trembling. You're so beautiful.
He leans in. Your breath hitches in your throat, though he can't tell if it's from excitement or to fight back another sob. His lips brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, squeezing out tears that gather on his lips. They linger there for several seconds, before he finally pulls away. His hand comes up to hold your other cheek, wiping away the evidence of your overwhelming emotions.
"If you can remember that, you can cash it in for the real deal," he says, teasing and light, but with the weight of genuine care and concern. "Alright?"
You nod. "Alright."
He draws you back into him. "Now get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @leiakitty @loliesaregreat
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puppysuke · 3 days ago
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daisuke as a dad hc!
this is very self indulgent of me i fear. i want to have kids so bad its not funny. um! anyway, my day was very shit so. i needed something to feel better and somehow daisuke as a dad is what my brain decided would be comfort. continue reading below the cut ! art by dressup4life on pinterest i think, but i am unsure! these are all sfw and NOT on tulpar. if it happens after those events or a totally different au is up to you :) all are sfw.
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🌺 --- total girl dad. i said it! you cannot convince me this man is not a girl dad. like, he's good with boys too, but tooootally a girl dad. 🌺 --- dress up ! stickers ! make up ! will let his kids do whatever they want to him in that aspect. ~ "dad, dad!" daisuke turns around from what he was doing-fixing the breaks of your car-, with grease smeared on his face. he smiled and stood up, rubbing his hands on his pants to get rid of the grease. he glances at swansea who had come over to give him a hand before turning to his kid and crouching down once more to be at eye level with his kid. "what's up, kiddo? wanted to help your awesome dad and uncle swansea fix the car?" he asks, reaching forward and pinching their cheek. his kid shakes his head and pouts. "no, dad, i wanna play dress up! lets play dress up!" daisuke smiles a little before hearing swansea snicker. he looked back at swansea and shoots a short glare.
needless to say, after that interaction, he was working on the car in a halloween princess dress with horribly done makeup, getting teased and made fun of playfully the whole time by swansea. (oof that healed a little part of me...) 🌺 --- daisuke never wants to push his kids into something they don't want. assuming you want to imaging this after the events of mouthwashing, he knows what its like to be pushed into something he doesn't want. be it a job they don't want when they're older, sports, or even a meal they don't like.
🌺 --- he is so worried about not doing a good job. he really wants to be a good dad, but sometimes he gets scared he's not doing a good job. he wants nothing more than to be a good parent, but sometimes he just comes to you with stress on being a bad dad. 🌺 --- he is the good cop. actually, he's in the criminals! you tell the kids no ice cream before dinner? you find daisuke eating ice cream with the kids. you tell the kids to eat their veggies? daisuke takes a good half of the veggies for himself instead. you tell daisuke to be more firm with the kids? he tries! but simply cannot resist those big eyes looking at him like the devil on his shoulder. 🌺 --- when you get insecure over strech marks or weight gain, you don't even have to tell daisuke. he can figure it out on his own in seconds of being by you. he is quick to reassure you and make sure you know he still finds you to be attractive. 🌺 --- for my trans masc readers, he constantly reassures you as a man! to him, your gender doesn't matter, even if you gave birth to his kids, he sees you as a man. you're his husband (or boyfriend) no matter what your body does and he makes sure to teach the kids about your gender when it comes time to! 🌺 --- as soon as he has one kid, he wants another. he is practically begging to have another kid after you're recovered and you're both ready physically and mentally. if you tell him no, he won't pressure you into it, but he will be a little disappointing. he will try not to show disappointment though! he already has one little angel, he is content.
🌺 --- when you first have a baby, he is gentle as ever with you and a great help! he's very active in taking care of both the baby and you! the baby needs to be changed into a clean diaper? he's on it! you need to take a bath? he's already running the water and ready to take the baby off your hands!
🌺 --- he is PROTECTIVE. like he doesn't even let his parents hold the baby at first. he wants only you and him to hold the baby, take care of the baby and everything like that.
🌺 --- he learns to cook. look, hear me out on this. he knows you're stressed about feeding the kids good meals, not just the instant ramen and take out you two had been living on, so he learns to cook throughout your pregnancies and before the baby can eat solid food!
🌺 --- he slows down and becomes a real family man. instead of wanting to go get a drink with friends, he'd rather be playing something with the kids. instead of gaming all night with people, he spends time with you after the kids are asleep. instead of reading comics, he talks to swansea for advice about things.
🌺 --- he ADORES you to no end after you have kids. like, he thought you were the most stunning person on earth but damn. you had a certain glow about you, and he definitely appreciated the extra weight you put on! ------- if you likes this and have anything you'd like me to write from this fandom, or any other fandoms listen in my intro post, my requests are open! just ask me in my inbox and i'll write / make hc for you <3 thank you for reading!
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rafes-slut · 1 day ago
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You set chellange who can go longer without sex
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female Reader
Warnings: manipulation, power dynamics, teasing, slight humiliation, frustration, explicit content, psychological tension.
Summary: you tought it would be fun to see who can go longer without sex thinking it will be him who will cave in first since he is adiccted to it. not knowing he wanted revenge on you and wont give in to you until challange will be over. no matter how bad you will be craving him
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It all started innocently enough. You and Rafe were lounging on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phones, when you came across a viral challenge that had taken the internet by storm: How long can you go without being physical with your partner?
Your mind immediately began to race. The idea sounded harmless—maybe even fun—and a bit of a test of his patience. Rafe was notoriously driven by his desires, always touching, always teasing, never one to turn down an opportunity to get physical. You, on the other hand, wanted to see if he could last without the constant need for sex, without making you feel like a means to an end.
“You know,” you said, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “I think we should try this challenge. I bet you can’t last a month without sex.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he lowered his phone. “You think I can’t?”
You shrugged, playing it cool, not wanting to show how eager you were to see if he could resist. “I mean, it’s just a month. How hard could it be?”
Rafe studied you for a moment, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes darkening as he regarded you carefully. “Alright. One month. But if I win, you owe me something.”
You didn’t hesitate, brushing him off as if it was no big deal. “Fine. What do you want?”
He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “I’ll figure that out when the time comes.”
You both shook on it, and thus began the challenge. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was just how quickly this would become a game of psychological warfare.
-----
The first few days were surprisingly easy. Rafe was still his usual self—distracted by work, running errands, and keeping busy with the usual activities. It wasn’t until the fourth day that things started to get interesting. You were lying in bed, scrolling through your phone, when you noticed him standing in the doorway, shirtless, his toned body barely covered by a pair of sweatpants.
You felt your pulse quicken. Your body had already begun to ache for him, craving his touch. You glanced up at him, catching his gaze.
“You’re really going to do this?” he asked, his voice teasing, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
You nodded, trying to keep your cool, but your body betrayed you. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your skin tingling with desire.
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice unsteady. “I can do it. I don’t need to sleep with you to prove anything.”
Rafe chuckled and walked over to the bed, sitting beside you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your neck. “You sure about that?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear.
Your breath hitched. “I—yeah.”
He smiled against your skin, a low, satisfied hum escaping him as he pulled away. “Alright. We’ll see how long you can last.”
--------
It didn’t take long for the frustration to set in. By the end of the first week, you were already feeling the pressure. Rafe hadn’t made a single move to try to break the challenge, and the more you thought about it, the more desperate you became. You thought you could play it cool, but with every passing day, you found yourself more and more turned on by him, by the constant temptation that sat just beyond your reach.
You found yourself trying subtle approaches—little touches, lingering glances, pretending not to notice how your skin was always flushed when he was around. But Rafe remained indifferent, ice-cold. Every time you thought you had him, he would back off just enough to make it clear that this was your challenge, not his.
One afternoon, you decided to push the boundaries. You were getting out of the shower, steam still rising from your skin as you reached for a towel. You had deliberately put on one of your favorite sets of lingerie—dark lace, just the right amount of revealing—and when you walked into the bedroom, you found Rafe lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
You tried to walk past him as if you weren’t aware of how your body was clearly on display, but you felt his gaze on you the moment you entered the room.
“Nice try,” Rafe muttered, still looking at his phone, though there was a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
You froze, your heart racing. “What do you mean?”
He put his phone down, sitting up and locking eyes with you. “You think I’m going to fall for that? You really think putting on that little outfit is going to make me forget the bet?”
You bit your lip, trying not to show how badly you wanted him to touch you. “I’m just... trying to look nice for my boyfriend.”
Rafe stood up slowly, walking toward you. His eyes never left yours as he took a step closer, then another, until he was right in front of you. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t even lean in. Instead, he simply looked down at you, his gaze dark and calculating.
“You think you can just tempt me like that and I’ll cave?” he asked, voice cold. “You’re wrong.”
The heat you felt intensified as your frustration grew. You tried again, shifting your body closer, brushing against him in the slightest way, hoping that it would get him to react. But Rafe just stepped back, his expression unreadable.
“You’re not getting it,” he said, his voice colder than before. “You wanted a challenge, and you’re getting it. You thought you could control me, but now I’m in control. So, no. I’m not going to give in. Not until I decide you’ve earned it.”
----
Days turned into weeks, and the game only got more intense. By the time the third week rolled around, you were completely out of your mind with desire. Rafe, as always, remained unaffected, his willpower seeming to only strengthen as the days passed.
You tried everything. You’d initiate playful, innocent touches, hoping he’d give in. You’d wear his favorite perfume, leave subtle hints of your body’s desire whenever he was near. But nothing. He stayed cold, unaffected.
One night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had enough. You stormed into his bedroom, knowing he was already in bed, his body sprawled lazily on the sheets. You closed the door behind you, locking it, your heart pounding in your chest.
“I’ve had enough, Rafe,” you snapped, walking toward him. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m begging you.”
Rafe’s eyes flickered with amusement as he watched you. “You begged me before. You can beg all you want, but I’m not giving in.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, the desperation and frustration making it hard to keep your composure. “Please, Rafe. I need you.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Then prove it. Show me you can take it. Show me how far you’ll go.”
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loviestmav · 3 days ago
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| A Terrible Fruit Crisis!
❀.ೃ࿔ ─── You love Tabito and his family, even when he's away at Blue Lock you find yourself at his house with his sister enjoying the bowl of fruit that would've been his..
| i've been obsessed with grapes lately and every time i eat them this is what i think of : grapes♡ : first post too, shaking in my boots
・cw : Tabito Karasu x implied fem!reader : Otoya(self explanatory) : poopie writing : reader loves fruit : Karasu's taller and stronger than reader : Karasu's sister is still unnamed so i'm leaving her unmaned
・wc : 839
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In the six years you've known Tabito his house has always been stocked with fruit, everytime you went over to his house after school or during weekends you were always offered a bowl of fruit from at least one family member
For two of those six years you two have known eachother you have been dating, the fruit offerings have only doubled - not that you minded you adored his big sister and mum, even more now that they basically only bought fruit for you when you were over
•······················••······················••······················•
It had been little over a month since Tabito went off to this 'Blue Lock Project'. Your knowlegde on soccer was very limited but according to him this was how he would "make it big in soccer" (his words not yours)
Even though you were excited for him, there was a hole left where Tabito should be. Even though you had friends at school, there was no one for you to copy the chemitry work off of now, you were left to fight for your life in history without his answers, and worst of all, he wasn't there to bring you random fruits from his house - how were you going to survive?
It's definitely not like you weren't welcomed there it was simpy too much work to walk all the way around the corner of your street to his house just for some fruit
| tabis sissy♡
mum just bought a giant pack of grapes just for u
(she misses u)
Well who were you to turn that offer down? Your didn't want to break your second mothers heart. It wasn't snowing too, so it was very clearly a sign from the univserse that you needed to help Tabito's poor family who were dealing with a terrible fruit crisis!
You almost fell over from how fast you stood up to put on your shoes and a coat and grabbing your near dead phone that still would've been on charge if there wasn't an active emergency
Running on the icy road to get to the end of the street wasn't the smartest move and one of your bones is probably fractured just a little from the four times you slipped but it's fine, there's bigger problems like the fruit that you could practically hear calling your name
Another slip up their driveway which completely toppled you over, you deeply regret your shoe choice which had little to no grip, clearly at the fact your couldn't stand up to shamefully walk to the front door
'Maybe crawling would work!' Thinking to yourself - was it a good idea? No. But who cares no ones around
"Y/n? Are you ok?"
You knew that voice way too well for your liking and considering your lying face first stuck on the icy driveway of his house you knew for a fact you woudl never hear the end of this
"Woah wassup pretty girl? Wanna see my ninja- OW!"
"Leave her alone Otoya"
Slowly your head turned to see Tabito in the flesh, if you could stand up right now you would give him the biggest hug ever and cover his face in kisses but, number one, your stuck and number two, your absolutly mortified after noticing theres a group of guys standing behind him watching you fight for your life on the slippery surface
"..Help me please.." Your head hung low hearing Tabito's footsteps creep up behind you
His two strong arms efortlessly picking you up off the ice and into the tighest and warmest hug - one you so dearly missed
You could've cried from how happy you were to have him back until his sister opened the door letting the warm air from inside hit your face and simultaneously reminding you of your mission
"MY GRAPES!"
An attempt to leap from Tabito's grip was defintely made but wasn't successful - you forgot how strong he was, and did he grow to?
"Nuh uh, you're not going anywhere"
He quickly hoisted you off the slippery ground and onto his shoulder keeping you safe from falling over for the maybe twelth time today and all within less than five minutes
Still on his shoulder with his friends trailing behind you two, Tabito smoothly took your shoes off placing them next to his at front door walking past his sister in the process
"I'm still getting the grapes right?" The concern obvious in your voice towards everyone in the room
The two just laughed it off which only deepened the worry, your face almost turning white
"Right?! Like you two didn't just set me up or something?"
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"They good sweetheart?" Tabito asked you while sat at the kitchen counter next to you, his head leaning against his palm
"SOO good! The pain was'll worth it" Your mouth still stuffed with grapes
You might love Tabito to the moon and back and even further, but the fruit at his house is always loved a little more
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| i've never had more fomo about something fictional that i've written in my life
© loveliestmav | do not plagiarise or translate any of my work
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treatbuckywkisses · 19 hours ago
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It's happened she LITERALLY did this for ME🥺😭 
the warning............ already has my stomach tense as fuck🫠
Thor is such a sassy king in this LOLL dramatic man with power 😮‍💨
A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning. LMAOOOO YOU GO BABE !!!!!! 
“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you. My God shutup this whole encounter between them is literally the most freaking precious thing EVER☹️☹️
Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life. Em I'm SICK this is everything☹️❤️
You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar. THE LOVE THEY HAVE IM SCREAMING 😭😭
“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk. I just gasped so loudly.............what a bitch 
“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her. YESS STANDING ON BUSINESS BABY 
Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture. this is so realistic😔 poor baby I'm feeling so bad for her rn
What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else? UGH EM the writer that you are !!!!! Seriously!!! The self doubting and silent spiral is so me lol so I can confidently say you wrote this out so well ❤️‍🩹 
There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you. Their love 🥺🥺🥺 I will never be over them 
You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling. I'm going to cry over this forever 
YOU'RE MY FUTURE YOU'RE MY EVERYTHING BE SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW EM 
Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.  How actually dare you write this
“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.” A SLEEP CONFESSION I'M SO SICK HES SO FUCKING PRECIOUS 
A male paramedic was shot.  ........I know you did not do what I think you did.......... 
And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart. No.
You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.   No simply no what the fuck hey what the hell 😃 em what the fuck! My heart is in my asshole right now you're so evil what the fuck is this babe!! (This is really written so beautifully but I'm mad at you currently) 
James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore. STOP??????????? DON'T SAY SHIT LIKE THAT WHAT THE FUCK. 
You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh. I'm literally sobbing RN
Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed. Me fkin too 😭😭😭😭😭 
So I'm basically feeling all stages of grief RN but mostly denial🫶🏻 I simply refuse to believe you would do this to ME SPECIFICALLY?????? HOW DARE YOU😭😭😭 YOU GIVE ME ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS SO WONDERFULLY AND LOVEY AND SOFT AND PERFECT AND THEN TO RIP IT ALL AWAY SO FORCEFULLY LIKE I'M THE ONE BEING SHOT WHAT THE HELL EM RESPECTFULLY WHAT THE FUCK. talk about a twist bc I was in denial from the beginning I really was thinking you'd make it Steve to throw us off but no she had to go and pull the trigger on my fucking man I'm so sick rn I'm going to bed until bucky wakes up.
In Situ
[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]
Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader
< < PART 8 | Series Masterlist
In Situ - meaning in the natural position (ie. Bucky’s place next to you)
Summary: You ask Bucky to accompany you to the hospital's fundraising gala.
Warnings: strictly 18+, unprotected soft loving sex, creampie, graphic depiction of gunshot wounds & significant bleeding to a major character, a bit of angst as they struggle to reveal their feelings, will we finally get an ‘I love you’??, certain ex-fling of Bucky’s makes an appearance, this part has a bit of everything, fluff, angst, smut all rolled into one; I will apologise in advance you have every right to hate me given the ending of this
Word count: a whopping 10.3k (buckle up)
A/N: this part is dedicated to the wonderful @treatbuckywkisses and @yenzys-lucky-charm, I haven’t updated this series in so long and I genuinely thought no one would care about it being incomplete but you both have left such sweet comments on the other parts that inspired me to continue with my vision for paramedic!bucky, so I hope you both enjoy my darling friends 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies
Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library
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It’s the start of a very long shift when the person you least want to encounter, Dr Thor Odinson, approaches you with a glowering expression which looks like the most accurate embodiment of ‘I would rather be anywhere else’.
You would rather quite literally be in any other room of the hospital than in trauma room 2 right now, but as your direct superior, you have to constantly take direction from the same man who tried to compete with Bucky for your affection, and then blacklisted you at work after you turned him down.
“Before you say no to this, I need you to know this is a requirement of your employment here and you cannot get out of it, no matter how much you might want to.” Thor states with the same amount of joy as if he were inviting you to a funeral. His hands fidget almost unconsciously with a sealed envelope as he speaks, before offering it to you with a firm, outstretched hand. “Believe me, I’ve already tried.”
You consider him for a moment, his eyes not quite meeting your examining gaze and nervously grinding his back teeth. Taking the envelope, you notice your name written in messy, scrawled handwriting on the front.
“Not sure why I wouldn’t want to, whatever you’re inviting me to sounds like the absolute time of my life.” You jest in an effort to diffuse the tension between you. Thor, however, doesn’t seem to find it funny as rather than a chuckle, you elicit the most forced eye roll you’ve seen in a while.
“It’s a fundraising gala, mostly for the research labs associated with the hospital, but part of the proceeds go to supporting patients without healthcare who otherwise would not afford our help.”
Though the thought of contributing to those of the community who are less fortunate, and find themselves in the unfortunately common situation of being in debt to a healthcare system which was designed to further cripple the already vulnerable, the lack of enthusiasm Thor is conveying during the conversation makes you wary of what important information you’re likely missing about the event.
“You’re allowed to bring a plus one.” He adds with a rising inflection, almost as if it’s a question rather than a statement.
Silence falls between you two, and for a moment you fully believe Thor is waiting for you to confirm whether you will be bringing Bucky as your date, which would just make this uncomfortable encounter even more awkward, but thankfully he speaks again before you need to say anything.
“You’ll be representing the ED, and more importantly the hospital, at this event. You and whomever you bring better be on your best behaviour, I don’t want to have to write you up again.” A smirk curves on your face as he walks away. Although there is a finality to his voice in which you know you won’t get out of this work event, Thor has reminded you of the very public display of affection Bucky showed you in the emergency room which had earned you an official warning from hospital HR.
A formal gala, with Bucky dressed up in a suit and you in the most alluring dress in your closet, could be the perfect place to earn a second warning.
* * *
The night of the Gala, Bucky knocks on your front door, feeling rather uncomfortable in this taut suit with the unnatural feeling of the shoulder pads compressing against his already broad shoulders.
He tries adjusting them as he waits, he wants to look his absolute best for you, to rival even a fraction of the radiance he’s sure you will exude tonight. But they feel even more out of place now he’s fiddled with them and regrets the decision until he hears the pattering of your footsteps behind the door.
“You have to close your eyes before you come in.” You call out to him in a playful voice, without opening the door. “I’m not ready yet.”
Bucky’s positive that in any state of undress or stage in the process of getting ready you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world, but a warmth spreads through his chest at the notion you’re wanting to look your best for him.
“Okay darling, they’re closed.” He plays along, knowing that when it comes down to it, he would do anything you ask him without contest because it’s for you.
Bucky hears the lock click as it opens and a small giggle, before the light pressure of a pair of lips on his.
“No peeking.” You request as you take his hand and lead him inside. Bucky knows your place like the back of his hand already and doesn’t need his eyes open to know that you take him towards the couch. “I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With each beat of Bucky’s heart his anticipation of seeing you only grows. He’s seen you in every way imaginable, naked and writhing for him, vulnerable with sickness, beaming with pride and joy, and yet every time he sees you he is continually flawed by how stunning you are in every scenario.
“Buck, you can open them.”
Bucky is simply lost for words. Never in all his life has he been in the presence of someone so utterly breathtaking. Looking at you now, practically radiating golden light, a brilliant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and your body looking downright heavenly in a form fitting dress which compliments the colour of your eyes, Bucky believes angels do actually exist.
“You are so beautiful.” He manages to stammer out once he’s picked his jaw up off the floor.
“Not as handsome as you in this suit.” You grip the lapels of his jacket to pull him even closer to you, straightening his tie in an action that overwhelms Bucky with a need to kiss you.
“What, this old thing?” He attempts to brush off your flattery, because next to you, there is positively no way anyone could compete with your beauty.
Bucky gulps the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth as his eyes roam your frame once again, because he can’t help but literally drool over how stunning you look - can’t believe that he gets to be the one who walks into the gala tonight with you on his arm.
The only other time he has felt this utterly floored by someone’s appearance was the first time he laid eyes on you as you strolled across the ER on that now historic day when he could not believe someone in scrubs and a lab coat could look so breathtakingly beautiful.
“You are genuinely the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
Bucky’s fearful that you won’t actually believe his statement, even though they are perhaps the most honest words that have ever left his lips. It’s no secret that before he met you, Bucky had enjoyed sleeping around - had entertained more than his fair share of attractive women in his bed, but after just one month officially as your boyfriend, becoming intimately familiar with your beautiful soul, he has zero doubts that you are the only woman he wants in that position for the remainder of his life.
You kiss him in the breath after he finishes speaking, in that luscious, sensual way that no one else has ever kissed him and evokes a warm, fuzzy, almost life-ruining devotion, dare he say love, in his chest.
“Let’s just stay here tonight.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, his hands finding the zipper on the back of your dress and slowly unzips to let the fabric fall from your décolletage.
He can feel you smile against his lips but then you bruise his heart by pulling away and saying “As much as I would prefer to spend the whole night naked here with you, I’ve already been told I cannot miss this event.”
However, they aren’t words which scare Bucky away from a challenge, he dives back into the kiss, the tip of his tongue tangling with yours. He thinks he has you convinced when your hands start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck - you know how much he likes it and do it constantly to turn him on, but then you pull back and Bucky sighs.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”
“Only when it comes to you.” He responds with a chuckle. You’re the only woman who’s ever had him whipped before, and Bucky’s not sure you realise how powerful the hold you have over him is.
“I promise, all we have to do is last an hour at this thing, and then you can take me home and have your way with me.”
* * *
You walk into the Gala, which is already packed with hospital staff dressed to the nines, hand in hand with Bucky who, in your opinion, looks magnitudes more handsome than any of the other men all dressed in black suits.
You turn to him and he’s already looking at you with that sparkle in his eye, like you’re absolutely perfect, just as you are, and there is nothing about you he would ever dream of changing.
“What?” You ask when those twinkling eyes don’t look away, but instead study your features as if there’s words left unsaid on the tip of his tongue.
“Just imagining pulling you into one of the on-call rooms, tearing this dress off you and tasting every inch of you.” Bucky shifts his hand to rest on the small of your back, his breath warm against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.
“Well, we have done some of our best work in there.” Bucky hums in agreement, both of you taking a second to remember the first of many visits to the on-call room which left you with shaking legs, but was also the first time either of you acknowledged that your feelings were deeper than simply hooking up. “I think you need to grab us both a drink to quench that thirst of yours, James.”
You playfully slap his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and then proceeding to rub your lipstick stain off, before pushing him along to get you a drink. He looks back at you as he walks away, almost bumping into the Chief of Surgery, apologising profusely with a guilty glance to you, before he shuffles off towards the bar.
While Bucky is busy with that task, you instead make your way over to the other side of the atrium to take a look at the items available for the hospital's silent auction. You have to chuckle to yourself looking at the prices listed on the bidding sheets - as if anyone with medical school debt could afford to pay for even one of the allusive holidays or artefacts they had obtained for the fundraiser.
But you suppose your job tonight isn’t to bid on the items themselves, but to shmooze the wealthy guests in attendance into bidding with their spare millions.
Searching out one of the items at the lower end of asking prices, you decide to put an almost embarrassing low bid on an all expenses paid weekend to Mexico, that you know someone will outbid you on, just to say you participated in the night without needing to lie through your teeth.
You stroll through the busy hall, keeping your eyes peeled for Bucky near the bar but it seems you’ve lost him in the packed crowd. It’s usually fairly easy to spot your tall, broad boyfriend, and your heart sinks a little that you’re forced to walk aimlessly around the event as everyone else is wrapped in conversation.
“Doctor, lovely to run into you like this.” You hear a voice you’ve heard before but cannot place from behind you. And though you can’t actually see their face, the tone of their voice contradicts their words - they don’t seem pleased to see you at all.
Turning around, a face that evokes prickly apprehension in your chest comes into view. She’s hauntingly beautiful, the type of beauty which artists spend hours trying to commit to canvas and which is just not attainable for regular people like yourself. She holds herself like she’s closing out a Victoria Secret fashion show and is fully aware of the enchanting effect she has on any man who sets eyes upon her.
“Jacqui… I didn’t know pharmacy staff were invited to this thing.” Even with her disagreeable inflection, you do your best to sound pleasant.
“Oh well you are when you’re heading up the department.” She boasts, with a little wobble of her head which you mostly think is to draw attention to her shiny, voluminous blonde hair.
So is she just here to rub her new job title in your face?
“Congratulations, I didn’t know you got promoted.” You try to sound genuine even though you really couldn’t give a shit.
“I saw you walk in with Barnes. Where did he scamper off to?” You are now actually very glad to not have found Bucky in the crowd earlier. Something about the way she is trying to control the curiosity in her voice, and that she was actively watching the two of you together, makes you cautious of her intentions.
“Not sure, I was just looking for him.”
There’s a long pause where both of you refuse to be the next one to speak. You just want this conversation to be over. But you aren’t that lucky.
“How long have you two been together now?” The inquiry is almost punctuated with sharp spite, and though you don’t want to indulge her line of questioning, there’s a voice in the back of your head that’s telling you you need to defend your Bucky from whatever that time is implying.
“A couple months.” Is the defensive response you retort - it’s technically correct, though you’ve only been official for a month of that.
“Months… how much can someone really change in a couple of months? There’s so many of us around the hospital he’s fucked. You really think he’s loyal to you?” You recoil at her words, not having expected the conversation to turn into whatever this was becoming, nor so soon into your small talk.
Where the fuck was this coming from?
“I trust him implicitly.” You attempt to control the absolute bewildered facial expression that’s trying it’s very best to overtake your features.
“Oh you poor, naive thing.” She says with a tone you use when delivering bad news to patients' families. “Men don’t change, they just hide their true nature from you. Wait a few months, he’ll be back to his fuckboy ways, guys like him can’t resist cheating. I guarantee it.”
Most men are like that, at least in your experience. But Bucky has never given you any cause to believe he would treat you like that. Just because he had a reputation of casually sleeping around before meeting you, doesn’t mean once he’s in a relationship he’ll be unfaithful.
You can’t imagine the sweet man who walked into your place tonight with his eyes closed, waiting for your consent to see you fully dolled up in your gown and then proceed to call you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, would ever cheat on you.
“You don’t know him like I do and have no right to speak about him like that.” You state firmly with a small humph. If you weren’t at an event packed with your colleagues, you’d slap her.
The look in her eyes appears like you’ve challenged her, but you don’t want to think about the connotations of that right now. Without saying goodbye, you turn on your heel, needing to get as far away from her as quickly as possible.
Rippling anxiety bubbles in your chest that in your experience only Bucky’s touch can soothe. You frantically search for him in the sea of black suits, trying to also keep half an eye out for Jacqui so you don’t accidentally run into her, but he is again nowhere to be found.
Where the hell is Bucky? Your mind practically screams as you bump into a strapping chest, but this one unfortunately belongs to the one and only Thor Odinson.
God, could he have worse timing?
You plaster on your best smile, trying your best to keep a calm facade as he introduces you to two older gentlemen he appears to be chaperoning for the night.
As wealthy and influential as they are, having made their billions from a tech empire started with a little trust fund from their families' generational wealth, you can’t find it in you to care at the minute. You just want to find Bucky. Need him to hold you until the tornado of anxiety dissipates in your chest.
But Thor doesn’t allow you to slip away unnoticed, instead he prompts you to talk up the work the team does in the emergency room, speaking about the people you save from all walks of life, from those without health insurance to the affluent who can afford the life saving medical procedures others fail to receive.
Knowing their donations tonight could mean the difference between many getting life saving medicine and not, you summon the will to engage in conversation, trying to push down the acidic bile bubbling in your stomach that had risen as result of your interaction with Jacqui.
The sharp taste remains on your tongue as you’re now caught in philanthropic discussion, silently cursing Thor who stands beside you for ever inviting you to this damn gala in the first place.
It’s at least fifteen minutes later when you finally excuse yourself from their presence, the two men having pulled out their cheque books, much to Thor’s delight, preparing to make generous contributions that would have the hospital naming wards after them.
You hate to think what trouble Jacqui could get up to in that time frame. But you don’t have to wait long to find out.
Finally, after searching near the whole hall for Bucky you find him. Goddess like Jacqui by his side.
She stands there, supermodel tall, blonde bouncy hair, beautiful, toned legs on display through the slit in her dress, a flirty smirk curving on her face, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears like a schoolgirl with a crush.
The nerve of her, approaching Bucky at all, but especially after the words spoken between you earlier.
Just seeing them together, the most exquisitely gorgeous woman flirting with the man whom you love and confirmed less than half an hour ago to her you are in a relationship with, makes your insides tightly twist with jealousy, as if someone were wringing out a wet towel.
Half of your mind is telling you to stalk over there and possessively claim your man in front of everybody, but the other half, the insecure side which believes Bucky could do so much better than you, who would want someone as beautiful as Jacqui by his side, and which is currently winning the battle in your mind, wants to run off crying into the furthest corner of the hospital.
Coming to a compromise, your brain instead decides that being frozen in place, unable to look away like an impending car crash, is the best place for you to be. But that is also pure torture.
Bucky smiles, not quite his signature cocky smirk that never leaves his face when the two of you are together, but it’s definitely a smile nonetheless and your heart sinks through the pit of your stomach.
Men don’t change. He’ll be back to his fuckboy ways.
You’re not sure why you’re letting Jacqui’s words penetrate your mind, burrow into the deepest crevices and allow them to make a home there. You suspect it’s because at one point in time Bucky thought she was desirable enough to take home and do unexplainably filthy things with. Does he still have that same attraction for her?
What if you are just Bucky’s practice run at being in a relationship, the one who fixes him up, teaches him all the valuable lessons, only for him to leave you and be the perfect partner to someone else?
Practically paralysed in place as you watch their interaction, it feels like your heart has stopped beating all together when Jacqui strokes his arm. But buoyant relief comes near milliseconds later when Bucky brushes her off. That’s your man.
You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you distinctly see him mouth the words ‘I have a girlfriend’, which relieves some of the tension in your tightly wound heart.
Bucky frantically searches around the room, and appears to have found what he is looking for as his eyes settle on your face.
There’s a split second where the whole world stands still, everyone at the gala other than the two of you disappear and it’s like you’re standing right in front of him, regardless of the space separating you.
But when your mind catches up to all the drowning emotions swirling in your chest, an uncontrollable sob bubbles up your throat and tears sting your eyes. You’re not even upset with him, but the fear of what Jacqui had been planning on trying with him still manifests as a choking lump in your throat.
The physical distance between you throughout tonight has let doubt and hesitancy creep into the only small space in your heart Bucky’s affection has not yet touched. Jacqui planted the seed and it’s already bloomed into a large tree, branches crowding space in your tightening chest.
The last thing you remember seeing is Bucky taking a large stride towards you, before your hands fly to cover your mouth and you take off, walking as quickly as you can in your heels, to where you know the nearest on-call room is.
* * *
Prickling panic fills Bucky’s lungs.
Has he inadvertently just ruined the best thing in his life?
Jacqueline’s voice calls his name as he chases after you, watching as you weave between guests and make your way to the nearest exit, which only takes you deeper into the hospital.
He was naive enough to think Jacqueline’s intentions were innocent when she approached him for conversation, just two colleagues catching up at an event that neither of them were fully participating in, but he was sadly mistaken.
He’ll never make that blunder again.
Watching you shuffle into the nearest on-call room, Bucky takes it as a positive sign that he’s not the one you’re upset with, at least not completely, when you don’t slam the door in his face but instead leave it open knowing he’ll follow you inside.
Bucky stays by the doorframe for a split second, watching as you work to steady your breathing, hands wiping the corners of your eyes, but the overwhelming urge and the need to comfort you wins out and he can’t help but hastily rush to your side.
“Darling…” He starts to say but when you look at him with big, wide eyes that are filled with tears, his mind goes blank and all he can think about is holding you.
You turn into his chest, face nuzzled into his lapel, and his arms instinctively close around you.
It’s the little sob which escapes your lips that does Bucky in completely. He hates to see you upset, but never in the months of knowing you has he been privy to this amount of genuine distress. He’s seen some not so great days, shaking frustration, even teary eyed with sadness, but never breaking down weeping.
He would move heaven and earth to ensure you never feel this way again.
He places a feather light kiss to your hairline whispering, “I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”
Though it was not his intention, his words provoke more sobs to escape your throat and Bucky pulls you ever closer. He’s practically holding up your entire body weight, and decides you’ll probably be much more comfortable on the bed this on-call room provides.
Even seated, you cling to him like he’s your lifeline, and Bucky can’t ever imagine letting go. He’d drown if it meant holding you safely out of the rough, relentless rapids currently flooding your mind.
As a paramedic, he’s so used to taking action, launching into a crisis with the equipment to be able to provide aid, to prevent further suffering. But right now all you need is his presence, to be the anchor grounding you to this world as a reminder that you have someone in your corner fighting for your happiness.
He hates not being able to do more for you.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Bucky asks after minutes of comforting you without words.
God, you feel so stupid. Crying at a work function because one of your boyfriend's ex-flings decided to flirt with him.
But it’s more than that - it’s the disrespect, the fact that she seems so entitled to Bucky’s affection simply because at some point in his history he slept with her, regardless of if she hurts you along the way to get to him. Do all the women at the hospital look at you like you’re an inconsequential ant they can step on to get what they want?
It doesn’t help that she's also the most stunning, physical personification of a man’s wet dream you’ve ever seen.
“It’s not you Buck, it’s her.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, just continues rubbing his large hand up and down your back, which tells you he’s confused by your statement. Perhaps you’re not making any sense in this outburst of emotion, you can barely keep your thoughts in a logical stream let alone expressing them eloquently.
“Jacqui, she… I told her we were together, she knew I was your girlfriend, and she still had the nerve to flirt with you.”
“I didn’t flirt back.” Bucky says defensively, and as much as you adore him, it’s making you frustrated having to spell it out for him how her actions have made you feel when your throat is aching from pure emotion.
You take a deep breath, allowing oxygen to diffuse into the deepest alveoli of your lungs, calming the constant stream of anxious thoughts, and letting you regain control of the tears falling from your eyes.
You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continues to rub your back. Why can’t the world just exist like this? Just the two of you in peaceful, quiet, solace. He kisses the top of your head and in that moment you know he’ll wait patiently, all night if that’s how long it takes, for you to explain how you’re feeling.
“I don’t know if it’s jealousy or insecurity. I genuinely don’t care how many women you were with before me Buck, it’s just a number, it doesn’t matter.” You sit up and look him in the eye, needing to convey just how vigorously you believe your statement. “It’s just… it's a soul crushing feeling that people in the hospital, people I have to work with every day, use the fact that you’ve slept with them to make me feel uncomfortable. That somehow because they know what you look like naked it diminishes our relationship and then they feel entitled to flirt with you and try and fuck you even though they know you’re dating me.”
The misery in Bucky’s eyes is almost tangible, and maybe it’s just an illusion from tears in your own, but seeing you hurting makes him start to cry too. His large hands engulf both of yours and his thumb strokes the backs of your hands resting comfortingly in your lap.
Previous partners have always brushed you off, gaslit you or raised their voice and called you crazy when you expressed an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity, but Bucky listens to each of your words with a determined focus, taking the weight of them on himself, as if they have just as much significance to him as they do to you.
“Darling, I’m so sorry Jaqueline made you feel that way. She had no right. But you need to know there is not a single woman on the face of this earth that could tempt me away from you, no matter how hard they try. No one has ever had me like you do.”
The panic beating of your heart starts to calm when Bucky places gentle kisses to your knuckles. His eyes brim with trepidation, as if he’s just realised how fragile relationships can be and he’s desperately trying to hold onto you, preventing you from ever letting go again.
“I can’t change my past, as much as I might want to, but all I know is you’re my future.” Tears trickle out of the corners of your eyes, but now the reason being due to happiness at Bucky’s sweet confession.
What did you ever do to deserve him?
“My life before I met you was dull, black and white reruns of the same shit each day. Since I met you, everything is in vivid colour. If I could go back in time and wait for you, I would. If I knew you were around the corner, there wouldn’t be any other women. But to me, you’re the only woman that matters. It’s so profoundly better with you because I-, because I care about you beyond comprehension. There were never any feelings with anyone else. You are the only person I have ever felt this way for. You have nothing to be insecure about or anyone to be jealous of, you’re the only woman in my eyes, and I-, you’re my everything.” For someone who constantly says he isn’t very good with words, Bucky always seems to know exactly what to say to make you fall even more in love with him. They are perfect words. Precisely what you need to hear from the man who has quickly become the reason for your being.
There’s a buoyancy in your chest as those familiar eyes, so blue you could drown in, examine your face for any non verbal cues of how you’ll react to his words.
“You really feel that way James?” You ready yourself, inadvertently grinding your teeth, waiting, hoping, wishing for him to say those three little words that will take your relationship to the next level.
But that hope pops like a bubble floating in the wind.
“Darling, I would never lie to you.” He punctuates with a kiss to your lips, slow and fervent, full of meaning. The look in his eye tells you he wants to reveal more, but it passes in a blink. “C’mon, let me take you home, and I’ll show you just how much I care.”
Bucky’s firm hold on your hand never leaves yours as he leads you back through the gala. You notice some glance at you, but all you’re focussed on is your boyfriend, his head held proudly high, not giving a damn what other hospital staff are whispering under their breaths.
* * *
Bucky slowly unzips the back of your dress, the material slowly falling away from your shoulders. A shiver runs down your spine as his lips kiss down the path of the zipper, starting between your shoulder blades, careful not to miss a single inch of skin as your dress bunches around your stomach and hips.
“You were the most beautiful woman there tonight. You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” He whispers against your skin, in such a sure tone you can’t help but believe him. His hands roaming over the base of your spine before gently pulling your dress over your hips. “Can’t believe I got to be the man who walked in with you as my partner.”
Bucky turns you around to kiss you once you’re bare for him. The passion, zealousness of his lips feels like you’re drowning in a tender devotion he could not articulate with just words themselves.
You don’t need to break away from the kiss to push his jacket off, unbutton his shirt, nor unbuckle his belt. He’s as hard as a rock, standing at attention ready for you as soon as his trousers hit the floor.
“My darling girl…” He practically growls in your ear when you cup his balls with one hand as the other starts stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pearly bead of precum over his tip whilst placing kisses to his chest. “This will be a very short, one act play if you keep doing that.”
“I’ve barely touched you Buck.”
“Mmm, I know. That’s just how much you turn me on.” The signature smirk he shoots you turns your stomach to mush, and makes you feel like you’re the dazzling sun at the centre of his universe.
Bucky’s large hands pull you down on the bed, on top of him. He sits you on his thick thighs, tongue sweeping into your mouth, hands exploring your every curve.
You wish you could live in this moment forever, relishing in how much care Bucky holds you with, but still manages to make you feel like you’re the sexiest woman in the solar system.
It hits you square in the chest when his soothing, wide blue eyes look up at you with a familiar tenderness that gives life to butterflies in your stomach, that you would do anything for the man underneath you, the man you love.
“What do you want, darling?” Bucky asks between breaths as he sucks on your hard nipple, his tongue swirling, doing magical things that could make you cum just like this. “What do you need?” He adds, switching to your other breast, which makes it hard to control your stream of thoughts - but there is one thing at the forefront of your mind that you don’t have to consider to know you need desperately.
“You.”
He lets out a groan around your nipple and you suspect thrusts his hips up involuntarily, just to feel closer to you.
“I need you Buck.” You repeat, tucking your finger under his chin and bringing his lips up to tenderly touch yours, as the urge to kiss him overcomes you. If it were up to you, the remainder of your life would be spent with your lips locked with his.
“How?” His stubble scratches the tips of your fingers as you cup his face. The desire brimming in his eyes, the hunger to ravish every part of you, the yearning to have you so close to him you can’t tell where you end and he begins, leaves you breathless.
“Just like this, please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but your imploring tone inspires Bucky on, not wanting to waste a single second more where the two of you are not joined.
Your forehead rests against his, his eyes boring into yours as he simultaneously uses one hand to assist you lifting yourself to hover over him, and the other to line his tip up to your dripping entrance.
An obscene sound from the back of your throat topples from your lips as you sink down on Bucky's cock. He doesn’t take his adoration filled eyes off you for a single second, even to blink, as he fills you up completely. A whine escapes his lips once you’re seated on his thighs, appreciating how your pussy is swallowing his entire, impressive length.
“You enjoy sitting on your throne?” You can tell he’s trying to tease, a mischievous twinkle in those deep blue eyes, but his voice quivers slightly, almost as if it’s strained, which you know him too well to realise is a dead giveaway for just how aroused he is.
How aroused he is by you.
That fact alone is enough for you to start grinding against him, hips moving back and forth, working up a rhythm that has you seeing stars and him groaning your name.
Both of his large, calloused hands are resting on your hips, helping you keep the tempo, making sure each rock of your hips results in your clit being stimulated against his pelvis. His lips find your collarbone, teeth scraping your delicate skin, the sensation of which clears your mind of any coherent teasing response you could have come up with.
“Fuck, look at you fucking yourself on me. You’re a fucking dream.” Bucky’s mouth is one of the most arousing parts of him, not only for what his lips and tongue can do to your body but also for the salacious words he speaks in that gravelly tone which turns you on just as much as his body does. “That’s it, fuck me darling, this cock is all yours.”
“Buck you’re so deep.” Is all you can think, all you can feel is how his length is nestled within you, how much he fills you up. You’re bursting because of how satiated you feel with him inside you, but Bucky’s musky, woody scent, as well as his warm, tender touch surrounds you from the outside, you feel like he’s everywhere all at once, and it brings you right to the brink of coming undone.
“Be a good girl and cum for me.” In this moment you want to give him everything you have, give him everything he’s asking for and more. His voice is gentle the next time he speaks, a murmur just for you, and matches the softness in his gaze. “It’s okay, I got you. Let go for me.”
Bucky sucks the pulse point on the side of your throat and it’s the complete end of you. You shudder, feeling safe caged in his arms as ecstasy fires up from the base of your spine through every neuron in your body, your toes curling, fingers scratching down Bucky's back - you can even taste it on the tip of your tongue as you scream his name.
Your legs shake uncontrollably, unable to continue your pattern of movement grinding down against him, but Bucky takes matters into his own hands by wrapping his arms around your waist and fucking up into you to prolong your high.
Once you’ve finally stopped seeing stars, your vision coming back into focus, all you can see is the adoration, pure captivation as he looks up at your sweaty form trying to catch your breath.
“That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
No one’s ever looked at you like this before, as if you’re the only girl in the world, the only person that matters to them, the one who holds their fragile heart in the palm of your hands and trusts you not to break it.
A dangerous thought flashes through your mind - do you dare tell Bucky that you love him for the first time right now, in the middle of the throes of passion. You have always wanted to let him set the pace of the relationship - he was the one who wanted to take it slow, not rushing into anything, but you can tell by the blooming warmth spreading through your chest, you have never loved someone more than you love him right now.
Bucky reaches up and affectionately brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and before you can think twice about if you truly want to confess your devotion in this moment, he’s kissing you again.
Before you can even recognise what he’s doing, his toned arms have engulfed you in a tight embrace, and without pulling out of you, he flips you onto your back, making sure your head rests gently on one of your pillows. His body weight presses you deliciously into the mattress, it feels like being tucked in securely with a weighted blanket that just so happens to look like a Greek god.
“Need to feel you cum on my cock again, it’s so fucking addicting.” Bucky practically growls in your ear, his breathing heavy. His long chestnut hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t prevent him from gazing at you with a tangible combination of awe and lust.
The thrust of his hips is downright sinful. You feel the longing absence of each inch of him as he pulls out, only for him to split you apart again as his hips snap forward. Bucky starts out slow, his fingers intertwine with yours, forcing your hands above your head, but when he starts placing open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw, his strokes pick up momentum.
James Barnes has you in a trance, caged in by the sheer size of him, each languid, sensual thrust into you tightens the knot twisting into shape at the bottom of your belly.
He’s so breathtakingly beautiful, the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. As his shining pupils fixate on the pleasure contorting your face you ponder if he is possibly thinking the exact same way about you.
The moans dripping from his lips, mixed with grunted curses, along with the telltale crease in his forehead, and the fact that his teasing mouth can’t come up with anything coherent is evidence of how close he is. But you know Bucky’s generous heart better than anyone, perhaps even himself, and you are sure he’ll be determined not to cum before you.
One of his large hands continues to pin your wrists down as the other moves to wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Then he has the fucking audacity to rub the pads of his fingers over your clit in tight circles. You’re so done for.
“Bucky, oh fuck… yes, just like that.” You manage to stammer out, barely able to move with his weight pinning you beneath him, knowing your body is hurtling towards an inescapable, forceful orgasm, and all you can do is feel as Bucky plays your body like a fiddle.
“Please, need you to… I can’t last like this.” You can feel the desperate, animalistic timbre of his deep voice in your chest and his hot breath against your neck. “Darling please.”
And then you shatter.
Fracture into a million pieces, the fabric of reality tearing apart at the seams around you as euphoria flows through you like wind on the surface of water. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s been lit on fire, burning bright like a shooting star soaring through a galaxy assembled by your love for him.
Bucky speaks your name as a prayer, a vow, a promise. Over and over again. A reminder that you are who he is coming apart for.
It almost makes you dizzy how lost he is in the feel of you, how his hands spread you open as far as your legs will flex, but then you hear the wanton whimper as he spills his orgasm inside you and it’s almost enough to make you cum again.
As your heart rates slowly return to normal, Bucky lays down beside you, cupping your face tenderly as his tongue slips once again into your mouth. You would have thought given the display of passion just produced he’d have had his fill of physical affection, but he continues to surprise you.
Who would have guessed that Bucky ‘doesn’t go on second dates’ Barnes would now be clinging to you like a koala, not being able to get enough of your touch.
* * *
“Sweet dreams Buck.” You whisper in that tired, yet sickly sweet tone that Bucky associates with the contentment of falling asleep beside you.
”They’ll all be about you.” He responds with a delicate kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing gentle lines up and down the expanse of your back.
“Then I wish you nothing but dirty dreams.”
He rarely dreams of anything else nowadays, but it makes him smile nevertheless that your minds think in such similar ways.
You really are the girl of his dreams.
Even more than that, if there was an expression which captured just how significant you had become intertwined in his life after a relatively short period of time. His brain could not have concocted someone as perfect as you, even in his wildest fantasies.
He holds you close to him in the total darkness as your breathing slows, but there are too many thoughts racing through Bucky’s brain for him to fall asleep.
Tonight was perfect. Complete, utter perfection. Not that he expects any less of a night spent with you.
So why, even after building the courage all week ahead of the gala, (and if he was honest with himself, since the week he swapped to be on the night shift with you), had he yet to utter those three magic words?
Steve would say there was one final wall around Bucky’s heart he had yet to pull down for you, to reveal his deepest darkest vulnerability that he could barely admit to himself, let alone the flawless woman who consumed his every waking thought.
The insecurity he had been plagued with since he was fourteen years old and his father had wished death upon him.
The fear that he is innately unloveable.
Just because he loves you in a way that influences his every decision, impacts every aspect of his existence, and alters the chemistry of his brain, doesn’t mean you are as hauntingly consumed by devotion as he is.
And even though the rational part of his brain tries reminding him you would not have shown such patience and stuck around as he clumsily attempted to manoeuvre being in a relationship for the first time if you truly did not want to be with him, that nagging insecurity is always at the back of his mind like a fog that won’t clear, doubting whether after everything he has endured, if he is deserving of being loved the same way he adores you.
But at some point Bucky knows he needs to find the bravery to take that leap, even if your possible rejection would be his ultimate downfall.
“Darling?” Bucky whispers as quietly as he can into the still night air. You don’t stir, nor do you respond, which is exactly what he’s hoping for. “Darling, are you awake?” He questions slightly louder so that you couldn’t help but hear him considering his proximity.
You continue to rest peacefully, lips slightly parted and breathing steadily, which is precisely how you always appear when sleeping beside him, but given the gravity of what he is about to reveal to you, Bucky has to be absolutely positive you’re in a deep slumber.
“Chicken butt.” He says randomly, hoping that if you are feigning sleep this will cause a crack in your rather convincing facade. But to his delight, your expression doesn’t change in the slightest, no muscle in your face so much as flinches, and Bucky is finally convinced.
He takes a deep breath, readying himself even though he knows you’re unable to hear him.
“I love you.” Bucky confesses with a shaky breath, even though he is assured in his affection. Though you’re not conscious to receive his words, something about disclosing his most closely guarded secret to your beautiful face, finally admitting his profound feelings aloud, feels like an enormous step for him. Never in a million years did he think he could open his heart up far enough to allow space for these types of feelings to nestle within. “You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m never going to compromise what we have, never going to take you for granted. I’m going to love you and only you for every day I have left in this life and even when I’m no longer here, my soul will forever be yours.”
You provide no response, features stay perfectly still, breathing rate doesn’t change. Which is of course exactly the reaction he’s hoping for while you rest, but he can’t stop his mind from wondering what your reply might be if you were awake; if you’d profess the words back to him, or if instead you’d recoil, shying away possibly because Bucky was moving too quickly.
Nevertheless, Bucky knows better than most that life can be painfully short, everyone has their expiration date, and you need to tell the people in your life how much you care about them before it’s too late.
“I love you.” He repeats with a smile and a kiss to your bare shoulder. Though he is navigating the all consuming, anxiety riddled, life ruining feeling of falling in love for the first time, Bucky knows with absolute certainty that he would go through it all again, one hundred times over, if it meant getting to spend his life with you.
But now for the difficult part - he has to say those three life changing words when you’re actually awake to hear them.
* * *
When the irritating ringing of your alarm wakes you up the following morning, a wave of disappointment washes over you. The night before with Bucky had been nothing short of memorable; complete with overflowing emotion, devotion, and no hint of apprehension from the man who had previously told you himself he wanted to take the relationship slow.
It was the most tangible display of pure love you have ever beheld.
But now, you lay alone in a web of cold sheets, Bucky’s place beside you unnaturally empty. When he has an early shift, typically he wakes you before he leaves, and at the very least gives you a kiss on the forehead, if not a much more intimate show of affection. But today, you have no recollection of being woken, no memory of his pillow soft lips on yours.
You find it takes a much more determined effort to get out of bed without an energising kiss from your Bucky.
The gala is the talk of the hospital, those who did not receive an invite interrogating everyone who attended for all the latest gossip. You hear your and Bucky’s names dropped a couple times in passing conversation, but all that does is remind you of the night before, and Bucky proclaiming his devotion to you while extracting a pleasure from your body no one else has been able to produce.
Tonight, you promise yourself, those three small words that have been tugging at your mind for the last month, tonight you’ll tell Bucky.
His declaration of wanting to take your relationship slowly was all the way back before your second date, before you officially became his girlfriend, before you held him as his mother underwent life saving surgery, before you knew of his traumatic past, before he switched to the night shift just so he could see you more often, before last night where he told you you are his everything.
Regardless of if he says the words back, you need to tell him. Need him to know that he is the love of your life, that synapses in your brain have reformed so your train of thought always comes back to him, that he has rewritten the molecular code inscribed in your cells so that they crave him like water, drawing him in like osmosis.
Your thoughts are interrupted by your pager going off, calling an all hands on deck emergency.
The ER is a frenzy of nurses clearing trauma rooms, doctors discharging patients who have already been seen to and Dr Strange shouting at surgical staff to prepare the operating rooms.
“There was a shooting at the mall. Police and paramedics are on scene, but it sounds bad.” Wanda fills you in as you both wash your hands and put gloves on, getting ready for the volume of blood and carnage that comes with gunshot wounds.
Dr Strange gathers the emergency medicine team together to brief you all on what you’re about to face. His face is stoic, having treated too many disasters to even seem phased by the decimation of so many lives.
You have not mastered that, but you also like having your humanity, caring about people is what you do best.
“So far we know of eight victims being routed here. There will most likely be more. All G.S.Ws, five women, two men and a child, about eight. One of the men was a paramedic on scene.” The last sentence out of his mouth gives you pause.
A male paramedic was shot.
“A paramedic? Did they say who? Give a description?” All eyes turn to you and no one needs to say it aloud to know exactly what you’re thinking.
“No, that’s all the information we have at this time. They should only be a few minutes out.” You’ve never known Dr Strange to be very sympathetic, but the look he shoots at you is what you assume to be the most compassion he is capable of.
The nagging part of your brain that always finds a route to the most devastating scenario, no matter how unlikely, is screaming so loudly you cannot ignore it.
What if that paramedic is Bucky?
There would have to be thousands of paramedics in a city of this size, what would the chances actually be that Bucky is the one paramedic in critical danger at this very moment.
But the universe has always found a way to be cruel to you, with the exception of when it brought devilishly handsome Bucky Barnes into your life. But what could be more cruel than introducing you to unconditional love and then destroying your heart by taking it away just as swiftly?
Wanda, sensing your paralysing worry beside her, comfortingly strokes her hand up and down your upper arm. “He was working the morning shift today, his shift will be well and truly over. He shouldn’t have been working when the shooting happened.”
“Yeah… he was on morning shift today.” Reminding yourself how you woke up in bed alone. Your lips tremble as you attempt to talk yourself down from the ledge of sheer panic. But your best friend can tell this fact doesn’t convince you.
“Call him.” Wanda instructs with a level voice, only a small glisten in her pupils gives away that she too is worried for his safety.
Your hands are shaking uncontrollably as you locate his contact in your favourites, accidentally dialling your mum first before you see the picture you have of the two of you together set as his contact pop up as it starts ringing.
Time stands perfectly still, the bustling hospital which is always full of movement, the constant beeping of patients pulse oximeters, announcements sounding over the PA, it all goes dead silent and all you hear is the ring tone of a phone call which Bucky isn’t answering.
Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.
It goes to voicemail, his voice filling your ears but it’s of no relief because it’s only a recording.
You press his contact again.
And again.
And again.
The fourth time you’re forced to listen to his infuriating voicemail, you leave a panicked message. “Bucky I’m so worried about you, please ring me back as soon as you get this. There’s been a shooting. Please, I need to hear your voice, hear that you’re alright. Please.”
You thought he’d pick up the phone and relieve you from this torment, but now knowing he hasn’t answered after multiple calls, you’re more convinced than ever it’s him that’s been shot.
“Wanda if it’s-”
“You can’t think like that.” But that's all you can think about. Your job, the duty you have to these patients who are en route to the hospital, none of that comes close to the need to know Bucky is unharmed.
The world starts moving in slow motion as the first of the patients arrives. Time runs like molasses, but the anxiety in your chest turns up one hundred fold, as if flashes of lightning strike your chest one after another.
A woman gets pushed in on a gurney, light brown hair stained with blood, and even from the sight of how the paramedic needs to hold her skull flap to her head to prevent her brain being exposed, you know she won’t make it as much as the surgeons will try to save her.
There’s a child, not much bigger than Sasha who you treated the day you first met Bucky, that gets pushed through next. In complete juxtaposition, she’s sitting up talking to paramedics, arm in a sling, but mostly looks unharmed.
And then you see it. The thing that flatlines your heart.
Chestnut hair and an EMT uniform.
You’d know those thick, wavy locks anywhere.
“Bucky!” You don’t even recognise your own voice with how much terror it is consumed with. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
In a flash you’re by his side, keeping pace as they wheel him deeper into the hospital, your lungs and throat scorching with distress.
You try not to break down seeing the sheer amount of blood, Bucky’s blood, soaking the gauze they are pressing into his shoulder wound, how pale and fragile he looks strapped down to the gurney. You’re an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve treated wounds like this before, confronted much more blood than this from a patient. But nothing in your training prepares you for observing your soulmate barely clinging to life, their claret staining your gloved fingers as you help maintain pressure, how cold his skin is to the touch, how his face looks almost serene even though these could be his final moments on earth, that he could be abandoning you for the warm embrace of death.
Not your Bucky. They can’t take your Bucky.
“Buck, can you hear me?” Your hand cups his cheek, and he’s as cold as ice. His eyes are shut so he can’t even look at you to give you one last chance to memorise the astonishingly blue irises which have been your source of solace since meeting him.
A mask covers his mouth and nose, delivering rescue breaths. You try to place a block in your mind to stop it from retrieving the medical knowledge you have spent years memorising - you don’t want to know how catastrophic a situation his body must be in to be needing rescue breaths.
“I love you, James. You hear me? I love you!” It almost ends your existence when he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even so much as flinch at your confession. You hope any part of him that is still alive inside the casing of his cold body manages to hear those words.
Dr Strange and Wanda have to physically restrain you from following the team treating Bucky and prevent you entering the operating theatre.
Dr Strange’s voice sounds like a hum, too far away to make sense of even though he’s pushing you away from the OR. All you’re focussed on is keeping your eyes on Bucky for as long as you can.
Is this the last time you will ever see him alive?
It’s only once he is out of sight, that your brain starts to catch up to the realisation of what has actually happened.
Bucky was shot. A bullet ripped through his skin, tearing muscle and fascia, lacerating his organs, possibly fatally wounding him.
Bullets are designed to kill. To end the life of the organism the gun barrel is aimed at. There is no mercy from a gunshot wound, you had seen too many to believe better.
A guttural cry forces its way out of your parched windpipe without you being able to prevent it, your kneecaps sting as you fall to the ground. Hot, large tears cascade onto your cheeks as Wanda’s arms engulf you.
Any second now, James Buchanan Barnes’ heart could be taking its final beat and you wouldn’t be any wiser. His lungs would stop breathing, preventing oxygen from binding to hemoglobin in his blood and reaching his brain. Everything else would shut down quickly from there.
One second he’d be here and the next he wouldn’t.
James Barnes simply wouldn’t exist anymore.
You had seen it too often, heard from bereaved family members time and time again how quickly it had all happened, but it wasn’t until this very moment that you understood the magnitude of that sentiment.
How could he go from telling you yesterday night that you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on to now possibly his cold, lifeless body laying on an operating table with his soul having crossed over to the afterlife?
You’d never hear his voice again. Or his laugh.
Never see his dazzling sapphire eyes as they regard you with overwhelming affection.
Never feel that warm rapture blooming in your chest when he’d proclaim himself as yours and kiss you in the same breath.
He’ll never get to know you love him.
It feels as though you are tumbling wildly down into an abyss, waiting for the inevitable crash at the bottom that would either end this eternal suffering or that sudden jerk, the lurch as you wake up from this cruel nightmare.
Neither comes. You are fated to live in excruciating limbo, your lungs burning, as if you can’t take a breath until Bucky’s destiny has been sealed.
Oxygen would be the gift you’d allow yourself once your love was awake and talking again; cracking stupid jokes with his signature cocky smirk and flirting with you like you were on your first date again.
And if he were to pass into the next life, taking your heart with him, then you would simply refuse to take another breath until you were reunited with him once again.
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Part 10 coming soon
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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 1 year ago
Text
would you give me your self or turn and run
part three of three.
A month after he returns home, Penelope reaches out. She doesn’t call but she does reply to his last email, and while it means he can’t hear her voice and the contents are quite terse, it feels so familiar that Colin nearly cries.
I will hear you out. Where would you like to meet? -Pen
Colin’s father was a hopeless romantic, his mother always said so. He remembers when he was younger and fresh flowers filled every vase in their home rather than lying at the base of a grave. He doubts his father ever screwed up quite so well but he thinks it’s a good first step. So with a bright bouquet of daisies in hand, Colin enters the cafe near Pen and Eloise’s flat on a bright Saturday afternoon with hope flowing through his veins and keeping his heart pumping.
She’s there already, sat at a small table against a brick wall reading a book. She glances up as the bell above the door announces his entrance and their eyes lock across the space, erasing the other people and objects separating them. At least on his part. Penelope breaks the connection after a few seconds, looking down to slip her book into her bag. Not once does the smile he’d so often taken for granted grace her features.
Colin approaches, the hope taking a chill and slowing his heart with each step. 
“Hi Pen,” he whispers at the edge of her table. He’d imagined this moment all week. How she would stand and give him a tentative hug, maybe allow him to boldly kiss her cheek. Instead, she stays seated, staring up at him with a mask of indifference dulling her features. Ice fills his veins. “These are for you,” he says, awkwardly handing her the daisies and still standing like a fool.
One eyebrow twitches upwards, a crack in the mask, as she reaches out to tentatively take them. “Thanks,” she says, a hint of confusion drawing the word out. “Sit,” she adds as she sets the bouquet on the table. 
An uncomfortable silence settles between them as Colin sits and continues to stare at her, taking in the sight of her after so long, wondering again how it is he went so long without her. Her hair is down and long again, brushing the middle of her back in soft waves. She’s dressed down but carefully so as if she’d chosen her outfit carefully to appear careless. She’s effortlessly beautiful. Poets would weep to witness her.
“Do you want to order something?” She nods toward the counter. He breaks his stare long to enough to glance down at the sandwich and cup in front of her before taking in the long line forming and shaking his head.
“Maybe later,” he says dismissively, not wanting to leave her side now that he’s here. “I missed you,” he adds before he can question whether it’s something she’d want to hear.
She frowns. “What is this, Colin?” she asks. Keeping her voice level she tilts her head and licks her lips, her frown growing. “You bring me flowers? You say you missed me? You ignored me for months, do you know how stupid I felt continuing to send those emails?” The whole time she doesn’t let her gaze go higher than his shoulder but now she meets his eyes and he can see the depths of pain there. “You hurt me. It might not have meant anything to you but it meant something to me.”
“Of course, it meant something to me.” He fists his hands in the pockets of his jacket to keep himself from reaching out to her, sensing that it would be unwelcome. “Pen, I am so sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
“Then why, Colin?” she nearly shouts. The rest of the cafe doesn’t pay any mind to them but still, she blushes and looks around nervously. “You said you’d explain yourself, so explain.”
He tells her about the napkin. He has to. He’s known since the moment he decided to move back to London that he would have to. The look of horror that crosses her face as he recites her words is enough to break his heart and his resolve. He reaches across the table and places a hand over one of hers. She flinches but doesn’t retreat. 
“Oh God,” she nearly chokes on the words. “Oh my God.” 
“Pen, I-”
“All of this time,” she interrupts, “I’ve thought that it wasn’t anything I’d done. Eloise assured me it wasn’t my fault. Wait,” she pauses, stealing her hand from beneath his, “does she know about the note? Do your brothers? Oh, God.”
“Of course not,” he swears, hurt she would ever assume he would do that to her. “I’d never break your trust like that.” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m glad I know, I just didn’t handle it well.” An understatement to end all others.
“You didn’t,” she agrees. She takes a deep breath and passes her fingers beneath her eyes though there are no tears he can see. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
He suddenly wishes he had taken the chance to order something just so he’d have something to do with his hands. Instead, they shake in his lap as he begins his confession. “Because I didn’t think I could return your feelings, and that killed me. That I had the power to hurt you like that.”
She opens her mouth to say something, probably something of comfort knowing her and it’s the last thing he deserves. He continues, “I spent those six months trying to forget and just let things go back to before I knew. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wrote you so many times but never had the guts to send them. I came to realize something though, the more time went by.”
Penelope stares at him from only a foot or two away, with big blue eyes shining with kindness and still a twinge of pain. He isn’t sure if what he has to say will make it better or worse.
“My feelings for you were never going to change, just as I’d expected, but the feelings I have for you, that I’ve had for so long now it’s like a comfortable friend I carry in my heart.”
“What are you saying?” she asks, confused more than hopeful, concerned more than angry. 
“I love you, Pen,” he says loud and clear, not caring if anyone around them hears, happy for them to in fact. He yearns to reach for her hands again, to touch the skin he’s spent half the year dreaming of, but unsure if he has any right to do so.
Penelope looks as if the world has turned on its axis and she’s trying to get her footing. She opens and closes her mouth several times, a world of thoughts swirling in her eyes that Colin wishes he could read but finds the handwriting illegible. 
“You’re serious,” she settles on. She knows him, knows he wouldn’t lie about something so serious, knows he wouldn’t say the words if he didn’t mean them. Still, he can tell she doesn’t believe him.
“I am.” He tries to fill his eyes with all of the love he feels, fill the depths of his soul with equal parts lifelong friendship and newly bloomed passion, and drop all of the walls he’s ever crafted around his heart. It must work because Penelope looks away, a sweet blush rising on her cheeks.
“This isn’t what I expected from today, Col.” Her expression is still unreadable. 
He’s suddenly struck by the thought that she might not feel the same way she once did. Was six months of silence enough to erase him from her heart? Had he lost that which he only recently discovered he can’t live without? His brain tells him he’s being melodramatic but his heart doesn’t listen and begins to bleed his feelings all over the cafe. 
“I know it’s a lot. I’ve had time,” he winces, “to come to understand my feelings but you haven’t. And you said you wanted to let the dream go, to stop loving me. Have you? Please, tell me if you have and I’ll-” He stops himself not knowing what it is he would do. 
“God knows I’ve tried, Colin.” She shakes her head. “But it seems that a lifetime worth of feelings, especially ones felt as deeply as mine, aren’t that easily thrown away.” 
The hope he’d lost since sitting down begins to thaw. His heart turns over in his chest. 
“I believe you, but,” she pauses, takes a sip of her long cold cuppa, gathering strength, “I don’t know if I can trust you not to run again.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” he promises, knowing it's the truth.
“I don’t mean physically, Col. Although, honestly we all have wondered how long this decision to come home will last. But I mean emotionally. How do I know you won’t shut me out again? I don’t think I could handle that.”
He wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s never been in a relationship, he isn’t sure how he’ll react to things. He wants to think he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her again but what if he does? Does he even deserve a chance with her?
“So where does that leave us?” he asks somewhat pathetically. 
“I don’t know. But I’ve missed you too. So maybe we start with getting our friendship back and then,” she pauses, not wanting to promise anything, “and then I guess we’ll see.”
Pen, I know we’ll see each other again in a few days. I know it’s only been a few hours since I saw you last. But you said we should rebuild our friendship, and this is the best way I know how to do that. We’ve been friends for a long time, but it all really started with these letters didn’t it? So I hope you’ll indulge me. You also said you wondered how long I’d stay in London. Well, I truly mean it when I say I’m done traveling. Maybe not forever but never for so long. I’ve missed far too much of all of your lives. I intend to be a more permanent part of them from here on out. xx Colin
The flat is too big for just him and his one bag of belongings. Kate and Sophie, who had helped him by recommending their shared realtor, assure him that once he furnishes the place and buys the essentials it will feel much more homely. For now, it takes him a little over half an hour to move in his duffle and the few boxes full of things he’s chosen to bring over from his childhood bedroom. The whole thing is sort of depressing, sat at his feet in the wide open space.
Penelope, having offered to help him shop, wanders between the rooms and Colin finds himself hoping she likes it even if he isn’t sure how he feels. 
“This view is amazing!” she calls from the bedroom. The knot in his chest loosens but stays entangled around his heart like a noose ready to tighten again at any given moment. Today is going to be exhausting. 
Her face, sporting a large grin, appears around the doorframe before the rest of her body follows. “It’s great, Colin. I can really imagine you here.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, honestly. Her smile turns shyer, more private, and he really wants to kiss her. Before he can say anything to distract from that urge, his phone starts ringing. A quick glance shows him Anthony’s name and so he excuses himself to the relative privacy of the hallway outside the front door. “Hey, Ant.”
“Do you know how many features prams have these days?” Anthony begins without preamble. 
“Can’t say that’s something I’m aware of, no,” Colin responds, amused. “I would think Kate would be on top of the research for that though.” Kate is the most organized person he knows, even more type A than Anthony. Truly a perfect match.
“She is,” Anthony grunts, “but she asked for my opinion and I can’t just wing it.” 
“No, of course not,” he says thoroughly amused at his eldest brother’s distress. He tries to conceal it from his voice. “Why don’t you start with the safety ratings and go from there?”
“Safety ratings.” Anthony sighs deeply. “Right, yes, I’ll do that.”
“When are you going to tell everyone else? Not that I mind these panicked new father phone calls,” he adds. Anthony had confided his and Kate’s happy news on a whim while trying to cheer Colin up before his reconciliation with Penelope. He’d been honored to keep their secret but it has been weeks now. 
“Soon, soon,” Anthony says, distracted, probably already reading up on prams again and forgetting he’s on the phone. “Thank you, Colin. And congratulations again on the new place,” he focuses back on the call, his words heartfelt. “Today’s the big day, eh?”
“Not that big.” Colin basks in the glowing feeling he is newly bathed in at his brother’s pride. The knot in his chest unravels further. “More anti-climactic than anything. Pen’s here though, we’re just about to head out and buy some things to fill the place up.”
“Ah, of course.” There is a teasing lilt to his words that Colin chooses to ignore. “Well, I’ll let you get back to Pen. Make sure she tests out the mattress too before you buy it.”
“Goodbye, Asshole.” Colin is blushing as he slips the phone back into his pocket. He brings his cold hands up to the burning skin before going back inside his new home. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” It takes a moment to take in what he’s seeing but when he does, his face burns for a whole new reason. His words echo through the cavernous apartment and startle Penelope into almost dropping the journal she is reading pressed against a window. 
Instead, Colin marches toward her and rips the notebook out of her hands. He closes it before he can see which volume she’s had her eyes all over. His voice gets louder as he continues, “you have no right to look through this! Did you go through my bag? Find anything else to your interest?”
Penelope pushes off the wall and steps up to him, seemingly even shorter than usual as she pokes her finger into his chest, trying to appear intimidating while her voice drips with guilt. “I’m sorry, but do not yell at me.” Her big blue eyes flash with warning. Colin swallows the words he wants to scream. 
“Your bag fell over and it fell out. I was just picking it up and then, yes, I read it. I’m sorry,” she repeats, crossing her arms across her chest. “I thought it was a journal at first, which of course I shouldn’t have been reading, but I had no idea you were a writer.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, confused yet still vexed. His whole body is tensed, pressure building as if he were a rocket about to launch.
“It’s a book, isn’t it?” Her confidence wanes and she deflates. “The prose is beautiful even if there are no real transitions, and some sections would need editing of course, but,” she pauses, biting her lip and staring up at his face. “It’s not a book?”
“It’s just a journal,” he says, sounding more like a question than a statement. The warm rush of anger is slowly draining out of him though it lurks nearby ready to strike again. “You thought it was a book?”
“I think it could be,” she confirms. “I’d bet that bag is full of these isn’t it?” He nods and she smiles, reaching out for him tentatively. Reluctantly, he takes her hand in his, the one not gripping his journal in a protective death grip. “I’ve always thought your writing was beautiful, your emails I mean. It was like I was there with you every time. I thought about suggesting you write a travel blog but this, this could be something so much more, Colin.”
He closes his eyes, trying to get a handle on the emotions at odds with each other in his mind. Residual irritation and confusion make way for pride and hope. This could be something. This could be his. If Penelope believes in him then, maybe, he can start to believe too.
…I reread that first email all of the time. Have I ever told you that? It meant so much to me that you would think of me let alone take time to write. But you have always been thoughtful and kind in that way. I miss my father sometimes. It’s odd how some memories don’t surface until after the person in them is gone. He used to buy me chocolates every time he traveled for work when I was younger. Switzerland, France, America, no matter where he went he always found the best chocolates and would slip them to me when my mother and sisters weren’t looking. Always with a cheeky wink. We never spoke about it but it was our little secret. Then he stopped. I don’t know whether he forgot or if my mother’s worries about my weight got to him but one day he came home empty-handed and didn’t even look my way. A good piece of chocolate makes me cry these days….
Colin falls into a routine: wake up, type up his old journals and edit along the way, have lunch with one of his siblings, more editing, and then, the best part, share that day’s progress with Pen when she comes over after work. She’s taken to bringing a bright red pen that she uses to make copious amounts of notes even as she speaks them all aloud, her critique at times harsh and others glowing. She’ll make a great editor one day. He tells her so.
He tells no one else about the memoir. He still can’t believe he’s done something worth writing a memoir about, never thought of his aimless wandering as a story someone might want to read, never thought of his mindless scribblings as real writing. He doesn’t think of himself as a writer, an author, most days. An imposter behind a computer screen seems a skin he fits better. 
It’s his father’s birthday and the first time in two years that he’s been present for the luncheon his mother puts on in his honor each year. It’s the event he’s felt the guiltiest about missing during his time away from home and this year it feels like mum has pulled out all the stops. 
All the usual suspects are present, but no one else seems to question Kate’s sister, Edwina’s, presence, except Pen who leans into his side on the couch and whispers her surprise in his ear. Colin doesn’t respond, simply wraps an arm around her shoulders and searches out a nervous Anthony to confirm his suspicions. Pen leans closer and lets it go, warm and happy at his side. He feels more than one pair of eyes on them but ignores his family’s nosiness this once and listens in on Pen and Pippa’s quiet conversation. 
A few minutes before lunch is set to be called, Anthony and Kate walk to the center of the room and call for the room’s attention. Colin faces his brother and sister-in-law but his eyes glance toward Edwina only to find her already looking at him, a mischievous grin on her face that he instantly mirrors. He should have known. A moment later everyone is on their feet, cheers ringing out across the room and the competition for who can reach the happy couple first begins. 
It strikes Colin that this is one of those moments he might have missed, a moment that would have been relayed to him over the phone later while he sat an ocean away, a well of longing in his gut. Being home is so much better.
…The first girl I ever kissed was Emma Baxter. It was terrible. Most likely my fault but I like to think she was just as nervous. Our lips were dry and our teeth were sharp where there shouldn’t have been any. Our noses didn’t brush tenderly so much as smash up against each other. It lasted maybe twenty seconds before she ran off and I don’t think we ever spoke again. You may wonder why I’m telling you this. I was just thinking that I could be called a scholar in Penelope Featherington. I like to think I know pretty much everything about you at this point, but what I love is that there are always more things to learn. One thing I don’t know is who was your first kiss. All I know is I hope that I’m your next….
Lady Danbury Publishing House, where Pen works, passes on his book. He’s not all that surprised but it still puts a pit of dread in his stomach that he falls into over and over again like a cartoon character as he wades through the rejections and waits to hear if anyone wants to publish his book or if he really is a charlatan.
Finally, nearly a year after he came home, nine months after he began this crazy journey, both a lifetime and no time at all, his agent calls with the news. A small up-and-coming indie house he’s never heard of has jumped on his manuscript. They say words like sensational and instant hit but all that Colin remembers is Penelope’s radiant and knowing smile across the booth in the dimly lit restaurant where he’d taken the call. He kisses her that night. 
“To the new darling of the publishing world,” Penelope says, lifting her champagne flute high in the air, already a little tipsy. They’re back at his flat, sitting on the couch she’d helped him select. 
Colin smiles, shaking his head. He clinks glasses with her even as he calls her ridiculous. His own buzz vibrates beneath his skin, gooseflesh rising on top as he watches her happily sip her drink. A loose curl has broken free from where her hair is pulled back and he’s reaching out to tuck it behind her ear not even wanting to stop himself. Pen’s smile softens and she sets her glass on the coffee table before curling up against his chest. 
He holds his breath, letting her listen to his heart as it plays a symphony just for her, cracking his ribs open to find its path to hers. Slowly, silently, he uses a finger under her chin to coax her until their faces are only inches apart. 
“Pen.” Forcing air back into his lungs, he releases her name on a sigh. He watches as realization blooms across her face, breathing color into her cheeks and a fire in her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she whispers, a longing that reflects his own in her voice. 
For all their waiting, neither rushes the moment. Penelope presses her lips together to wet them and Colin uses his thumb to tug her plump bottom lip back out, running the pad back and forth across it, feeling her breath hot against his skin. All of his senses are on high alert, catalouging every detail, committing every second to memory. Perhaps he’ll write about it later. 
Infintesimly slow, he leans down until their lips are touching but once he’s gotten a taste, desperation prevails. Like a fog dissipating in a fresh rain, everything inside of him becomes clear. He’s known he loves her. He believed that fact. But facts are nothing when faced with feeling and now he knows that he was meant for Penelope Featherington. He was put on this earth to love this woman and he would do so for as long as she will have him.
…When one dream comes true the human mind has the ability to dream another. I think that’s one of the most remarkable things about us. You were my dream for so long Col and I can’t wait to see what is next for us….
One Year Later
One thing about having a large family, you get used to being in a crowd. 
The bookstore is full to capacity, a large portion of that being his highly supportive family. Even Greg and Hyacinth are here, someone else is Facetiming Frannie, and Augie and Edmund are running amok much to their parents’ frustrations.  
After his reading, he is escorted to the signing table. The line, winding around the shelves, is intimidating and exhilarating in equal measure. He listens to his publicist as she reminds him for the millionth time on how to keep the line moving. 
“Colin,” his mum says, her hand placed on his shoulder. He turns to face her. “Gregory, Hyacinth, and I are going to leave. I just wanted to tell you again how proud I am of you.” Her eyes are watering now. “You’ve finally found your place.”
He leans down to kiss her on the cheek, blinking back his own emotions.“Thanks, Mum,” 
He speaks a little to everyone in line. It’s weird calling them fans, he prefers admirers or better yet, fellow wanderers. Yes, he’s missed meeting so many new people, each with their own story or questions. He’s doing a poor job at being efficient but he’s having too much fun to care.
As the signing progresses and the crowd dwindles, the rest of his family make their leave as well, always stopping by for a quick hug and another hurried ‘congratulations’ until only Pen remains. 
He finds her tucked away in the romance section buried in a new book, her feet pulled up on the chair beneath her. The harsh lighting of the bookstore bounces off of the ring on her finger and he stands there watching her for far longer than he probably ought to with a silly grin on his face. He’s the luckiest man in the world. It’s never lost on him that there would be no book without her. There would be no stories without her. He would have probably remained a lost eighteen year old boy without her. 
“Ready to go?” he asks, softly. She holds up a finger for him to wait as she finishes her page and he rolls his eyes fondly at the familiar gesture. Once she’s done, she looks at him with a tired smile and stands. He follows her to the checkout counter so she can buy her book and they exit the store arm in arm into the cold London night air.
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aphelionwrotes11 · 8 months ago
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MDNI 18+ (not edited)
Part 2
Trucker!simon, who finds himself a lovely bird at a local truck stop he often runs through on his usual routes.
Sits his massive self at the bar on one of the small stools, glaring at any of the blokes who stare at you a bit too long.
Gives you a blank look when you check up on him, asking if he’d like anything else.
“Just anotha’ cuppa, sweet’art” he always says, sliding his mug towards you, which looks microscopic compared to his massive hand.
You think he doesn’t like you, considering he doesn’t ever talk to you much when you try to make small talk, but he always leaves you a fat tip. You figure he’s just quiet. He can’t dislike you that much considering how many times you’ve glanced over your shoulder to see him gazing appreciatively at your ass.
It’s an especially rowdy night at the truck stop that finally breaks the camels back. A real gentleman decided he wanted a feel of you. So he didn’t hesitate to grab a handful of the fat on your backside, his table and him whooping and hollering as you squealed and slapped his hand away, glowering at him as you scampered away to the bar.
You held back tears as you started up another pot of coffee, never were the confrontational type. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken it upon himself to put his hands on you, but it would certainly be the last. Considering how Simon was sat at the end of the bar; shaking with rage, his knuckles white from being clenched tight as he stood.
It all happened so quick you didn’t even catch it, you back had been turned. The restaurant went from ruckus, laughter, and loud voices, to silence after the sound of a sickening crack rung through the room.
You turned just in time to see the asshole’s friends jump from their seats and go for your favorite regular; Simon. The handsy asshole laid flat on the ground, out cold.
It took no time at all for Simon to lay out the other three, he was twice each of their size in pure muscle, and obviously lacked nothing in skill. Once he was done he simply turned to you, pointed to the back room and said,
“Go get yer things.”
You didn’t think twice. Passing your manager who stood in the doorway, face solemn. You asked him quickly if it was okay for you to leave, he took one glance at Simon and nodded his head. You grabbed your things, throwing on your coat and met Simon at the door.
He takes your arm, surprisingly gentle for his huge form, he looked enraged. His shoulders tense, brows furrowed, you’re certain if he didn’t have a mask on the lower half of his face he would have a deep frown on his lips.
You thank him softly, following him as he leads you through the full parking lot. He says nothing, staring ahead. You tell him you don’t live far, you can just walk.
“No, you’re not doin tha’.” He says, and you don’t argue.
Helps you into the cab of his massive semi, getting into the drivers side and turning up the heat.
Offers to get you some food, “haven’t seen’ya eat a bite ol night, bird.”
You refuse, thanking him for the offer, telling him you’ll eat at home. You probably won’t, your stomach is still all twisted from earlier, if he can tell you’re shaken up he doesn’t show it. He just nods.
Takes you to the corner of your street, wouldn’t be able to drive his truck down the narrow road. You thank him again, asking him if there’s anything you can do to repay him.
“I know’a few things you can do for me, bird.” He says lowly, you feel your cheeks warm at the implication. You ask him what he wants. He grunts, glancing to the side as if he’s thinking.
“Gimme a kiss.” He says, tapping his cheek. Your eyes widen, is he serious? Out of all things he could ask for, he asks for just a kiss on the cheek? You shocked to realize you’re disappointed he didn’t ask for more.
He pulls his mask down to his chin, revealing his chiseled jaw and thin, scarred lips. You lay a trembling hand on his giant thigh for support as you lean over, and just as you are about to meet his cheek he tilts his head and has your mouth. Pressing a heated kiss to your lips.
It takes you a moment to catch up, but before you know it you’re in his lap, making out sloppily, mouths open and tongues swirling together. You sigh into his mouth, cupping his jaw as his hand cradles the back of your head.
When you start grinding yourself against him is when he stops.
“Not yet, bird. Gotta take you out first, do it the right way.” He says. The right way? What the hell.
“Take ya for dinner, treat ya real good, take ya home and fuck that sweet pussy halfway to heaven.”
He cups your ass as he whispers that nasty shit in your ear, one hand on your hip as he bucks up once against your wet heat. You let out a whimper and he just chuckles. Asshole.
Jumps out the truck and helps you down with two strong hands on your hips. Walks you all the way to your front door, smiling at your peeved expression. You were definitely gonna have to rub one out once you got inside.
Gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, gripping your chin with his thumb and finger.
“Be here tomorrow a’ seven. Wear something nice.” He says softly before turning and stalking off into the night. Leaving you flabbergasted on your front doorstep.
Note: I dunno if you guys can tell but im incapable of writing anything small. This was supposed to be just a short little thing about how sexy trucker!simon would be but i got so carried away 😭 he’s the ghost that haunts my nights, can’t get him outta my head
Simon Riley master list
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fairy-angel222 · 1 year ago
Text
𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.
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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader
cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching
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Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.
From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.
When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.
You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.
At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.
It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.
Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.
You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.
Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”
Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.
The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”
You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”
Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”
You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”
Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.
Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.
You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.
Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.
And it was unbearable.
Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.
It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.
You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”
His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.
“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“
You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”
“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”
Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”
You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”
Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.
Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.
You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”
“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”
You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”
Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”
You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”
You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.
“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.
“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”
“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.
“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”
You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”
“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.
“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.
“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”
Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.
It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.
Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.
“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”
You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.
A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.
He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”
You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.
Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.
The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.
He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.
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lyrefromthesea · 9 months ago
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Please can I request pre-relationship hashira x hashira!reader, where they are sparing together and it becomes a bit suggestive 💙💙
Male pillars x reader - Sparing with benefits
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pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu , reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: suggestiveness
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Tengen:
"you could just give up, there's no chance you could win against my flamboyant self!" he taunted, running around the courtyard with you.
you had been fighting for ten minutes and there was still no end in sight. you weren't a bad fighter, you've been promoted as a hashira some time ago, but Tengen was at advantage right now.
he was faster than you. he had been saving himself from your attacks by avoiding them every time. the smirk on his face only spurred you on more, wanting to win this fight and show him that you were a good fighter.
however, when you raised your bamboo sword for an attack and he turned around to dodge it, you felt yourself trip on a root. it had been sticking out of the ground, making you fall over.
surprised by what has happened, Tengen lost his own halt and fell backwards, landing in a sitting position. you felt yourself fall onto him, at least partly.
when you checked your surroundings, you found your head on his lap. your cheek pressed against his groin. meeting his gaze, you could see his cocky smirk.
"it was an accident! i didn't mean to.." you said, wanting to stand up instantly. this would definitely look wrong from an outsider's perspective.
when you tried to stand up, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pressing your cheek a bit more against his groin, only satisfied when you felt the bulge against your skin.
"just so you know, my wives had always found you cute enough for this.." he teased, his eyes staying on your widened eyes.
you pushed away, running away from his grip and off the training field.
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Obanai:
he was proud of you for becoming a hashira. when he took you in as his tsuguko, he wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he was sure now.
you were able to follow his movements, dodge his attacks and even make some of your own. your elegance captivated him and he found himself admiring your fighting style.
perhaps he had been diving in his thoughts too much, because when his attention was finally back on you, he was already on the ground.
your legs were on either side of him, straddling his body. heterochromic eyes were staring deeply into yours, surprised by the sudden turn of events.
"i win, Obanai." you said, looking down at the man. your hands were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly.
his heartbeat was increasing under your hands, cheeks flushing. it wasn't the first time he noticed how beautiful you were, but your allure only increased like this.
"you.. you do.." he muttered, not being able to turn his eyes away from you. yet again, neither were you. you leaned down further, remaining with your faces only a few inches apart.
it would've been so easy to kiss him right now. however, feeling your hips rub against his groin, he couldn't stop his body from reacting, his hands gripping your waist.
"[name], g- get down.."
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Rengoku:
"flame breathing. third form: blazing universe!" he called out, his bamboo sword coming at you with immense speed. you barely managed to block his attack - meaning you didn't do it.
your body flew a few feet away, landing on the ground. with a quiet grunt, you turned onto your back. "i give up.." you sighed.
however, there was no audible reaction from Rengoku. turning your head towards him, you wanted to know what's wrong, only to see his wide eyes staring.
he shook his head, running towards you and kneeling down. "are.. are you okay?" he asked, seeing you nod. he didn't respond, as if he knew something you didn't.
"just tell me, Rengoku!" you pleaded, feeling yourself enter a state of panic. did you lose a leg? it wasn't like him to behave this way.
he moved his hand closer, placing his hand against the side of your stomach. your eyes widened, looking down at yourself, staring at your torn uniform.
not only the right side of your shirt, but also the entirety of your right pant leg was missing. you instantly sat up, trying to cover up.
"i didn't know, i will-" you tried excusing yourself, but fell silent when he squeezed your waist slightly, attention moving back to him.
"i'll bring you back." he answered, taking off his haori and pulling it over your form. it didn't help covering your leg, but at least your upper body looked a bit more presentable.
he scooped you into his arms, both your legs around his waist. you rested your chin on his shoulder, wishing to disappear. the whole situation was embarrassing, and even worse, you had felt warm when he touched your skin unhindered.
his hand held you up by your thighs, his grip on your right thigh a bit stronger. you could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your leg, glancing up at him.
"you.. you're really soft." he quietly said, not able to hide his red face from you.
perhaps the whole situations had it's advantages.
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Sanemi:
"stop running! just admit defeat!" he shouted after you, determined to get this fight over with. the only problem: you were extremely fast. you managed to dodge his attacks every time.
"never!" you answered, seeing him try to attack again. you were ready to dodge his bamboo sword, but were shocked to see him drop it mid-attack.
his hand shot towards you instead, quite literally knocking you down with his harsh hit. your back made contact with the ground, Sanemi tackling you down immediately.
"i win." he said, smirking at your defeated form. you tried freeing yourself, not able to push up with his hand on your neck.
"i didn't give up yet." you huffed out, feeling him squeezing your throat lightly - he was warning you. only that his warning didn't work as intended.
a quiet whimper escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. he had heard the sound, you knew it.
"oh? didn't know you were into the rough treatment." he smirked - teased. your reaction was immediate, pressing your knee up and right against his crotch.
he groaned, letting go of you. he clearly hadn't expected you to do that, especially not after you pushed him away and freed yourself.
"didn't know you were into that, Shinazugawa."
"you-"
naturally, another fight started right after.
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Giyuu:
how did this happen? thirty minutes of fighting just for your bamboo sword to be kicked to the side by him. he had been too fast for you, leaving you unable to react.
your back was pressed against the wall, wide eyes staring into his. he had caged you between the wall and his body, his form towering over you.
ocean eyes were deeply staring into yours, his hand pressing against the wall behind you. he couldn't tear his gaze away from your body, not when you were presented right in front of him.
"you lost." he stated, as if it wasn't obvious to the both of you. his eyes narrowed, his other hand moving towards you.
"if this had been a fight with a demon, you would've died." he said, making you feel like prey under his eyes. he placed his hand on your chin, thumb nearly grazing your lips.
"don't lose focus." he uttered, but his eyes had long broken their contact with yours. he was watching your lips instead, as if he was debating on a kiss.
"i wont." you answered breathlessly, getting his attention back on you. he let go of your chin, stepping away and picking up your sword.
"let's try it out." he taunted, neither of you really focusing on winning or losing now.
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Gyomei:
this fight was unfair to begin with. without a doubt, you were one of the strongest swordsman in the corps. you've served as a hashira for three years now, but no one could win against Gyomei.
naturally, you admitted defeat when he threw you over half the lake, immediately asking whether you're fine or not.
your head broke through the water, gasping for air. the water was freezing cold, but you told him you're fine.
he still made the effort to help you out of the water, drenching his own clothes in the freezing liquid.
"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, big tears already rolling down his face again. you avoided your eyes from his form, not trying to appear inappropriate.
"i'm fine." you answered, looking at your own body. both of your clothes were quite see-through, giving you a greedy sight of his muscles and abs.
looking down at yourself, your clothes weren't any better. you thought of yourself as lucky, not wanting to live with the shame of letting him see so much of your body.
"come, it's freezing in here." he told you, pulling you into his arms and out of the water as he made his way out of it.
what you didn't know, was how his fingers could feel everything that you were seeing. your clothes stuck to your skin, not leaving much room for imagination.
he stepped out of the water, but instead of letting you down, his head tilted towards yours, foreheads nearly touching.
his hands squeezed your body, millions of thoughts running through his head. "you're.." he said, but he stopped, not wanting to do something he might regret later.
"you're still wet, we should get some dry clothes.." he told you instead, putting you down again, his hand sliding against your curves for a moment.
you watched him walk forward, your lips parted. was it wrong that you had hoped for him to continue?
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insanechayne · 1 year ago
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~ ~ ~
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gojoshooter · 8 months ago
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HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU
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tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies
Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.
Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.
Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.
Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.
“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.
Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”
At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.
“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”
Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”
Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”
Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”
Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.
As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”
Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.
Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.
“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”
Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.
Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.
“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.
an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33
tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts
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kooyabooya · 1 month ago
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ENTROPY
karina x m reader
14k words
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“It’s a stupid bet, Karina.” 
Karina lifts an eyebrow, only at certain points in conversation where she thinks your opinion is highly invalid. 
“No, it isn’t. You didn’t even let me properly explain,” she tells you, “All I want is a favor. Not a bet.” 
“It’s still asking a lot from me when I’m already dealing with your bullshit.” 
She sighs, leaning back on the counter. You’ve got a hand to your hip and an expression on your face that says: “fuck off six ways back to Sunday,” That’s how these usual briefings go, the quick dump or fill-in of whatever the fuck is worth sharing in each others’ lives. 
Instead, she raises her hands up in surrender, lips pulled inward. “Fine. Would it be better for me to come back to you on this sometime later?” 
“Can I suggest not having you bother me ever again?” 
A snort, then a cackle is what she gives. So, you roll your eyes because you know that it's always, always a tell-all for disaster. 
“Oh honey,” she says, patting your shoulder while you look over to see her running off to do her own thing, “You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time. You just haven’t seen it yet.” 
To bring things up to speed: you didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you brought Karina along as your roommate. 
At first, things were great. 
The living styles were well complimented. Separate rooms, similar schedules, the usual activities you’ve done together for fun. Even the chores were assigned (though by second nature and good habits). This small space was well put to be a slice of home away from home whilst going through the ranks of college. 
She invited some of her friends and classmates over from time to time; some of which you had a partial interest in. Sometimes you’re out with Karina’s setups, other times she’s the one that’s out and about while you were holding the fort down. For the most part, life was easy having your best friend since middle school hang around with you. 
Still, no issues to mention whatsoever. 
But then- 
“Do you have a minute?” 
It’s 8 pm on a Saturday and Karina’s coming to you for her regular yaps and endless rants since the girl just talks and talks and talks. 
You curse at yourself at times for always being the listener.
“Yeah,” you say, closing your laptop on the kitchen island when she rounds the corner, coming to your side. “I don’t have anything, so I’ve always got time.” 
You’re hoping that it isn’t anything out of the ordinary; from the looks of things, all signs seem to point that way. She’s in her sports shorts with one of your (stolen) t-shirts - the collar cut off highlighting her shoulder - hair tied up and in glasses, you automatically assume that she isn’t going anywhere. 
“Remember when I brought up that thing?” 
“What thing?” 
Then it hits you: that thing. 
You had your fingers crossed that she would forget about asking you for whatever she needed you for. Sucks that she had a good memory - not only that, you’ve made yourself reliable for her so many times before; turning her down was simply an impossibility. 
Not all heroes wear capes, sadly. 
Karina slaps your shoulder, easily seeing through your mask of sarcasm. 
“Don’t act dumb, genius. That ‘thing’ was just coming along with me for once.” 
Her brows furrowed, the corners of her lips tracking back across her cheeks. You can’t say no let alone ignore the poor girl. 
“You know me with outings,” you reason, sensible. In most cases like these, Karina comes to you out of others to bring up her issues, her dilemmas; her self-inquisitions, as she would like to call them from time to time. And usually, they’re straightforward. This should be an easy cakewalk. “I’m all for it, but what’s the point when you force me to be more sociable when you’re dragging me around?” 
“Because maybe you’re the biggest pussy I’ve had the misfortune of being with.” Karina huffs, arms crossed and face left in distress. She examines you so closely under her microscope that it’s borderline invasive - but you don’t tell her that. So you twine your fingers in between each other and return the laser-focused stare she’s giving you, taunting almost along the lines of - look, if you’re gonna be convincing, you gotta do better than that. 
All she does is throw a shoulder shrug, awkwardly -  dropping them so fast that you’re putting everything in your willpower to not notice the subtle bounce of her chest. 
Her palm faces up toward the ceiling, hoping for a response. You purse your lips out to spite her. She has to deal with your bullshit head-on, tragically. 
“It’s always the work, gym, eat, sleep, do more work at home, and repeat. All the fucking time. So bland and-” 
You tilt your head the more her insults fill your ears. 
“You disgustingly piss me off.” 
Her fingers press on your forehead when you give the subtle eye smile and smirk combination, finally pushed over the edge now she doesn’t want anything to do with you. She paces around the kitchen and you can see her eyes dart over at the corner. 
She won’t leave you alone. 
Not until she gets what she wants. 
Besides, you’ve learned that Karina isn’t very good at persuading people to do something. Though eventually- 
“Why didn’t you just say you’re inviting me to go out for a night?” You ask, knowing that the bluntness is one of the few ways to bring Karina back around once she’s done with her tantalizing tangents. “You wouldn’t be here going crazy if you just told me-” 
“Because you’re the one who can’t seem to get it through your thick-ass skull in the first place!” She exclaims, first underneath her shirt that reveals some of the skin on her waist, the ends of her panties now apparent the more her boxer shorts keep slacking off her hips. You can’t afford to stare. You know you can’t. 
The recurring cycle of interest: keeps coming back to haunt you. 
You concluded or accepted the fact years ago that Karina was never meant to be yours. Yet- she would always come to you whenever she had boy problems or wanted your opinion on what she should wear or do with every single one of her crushes she ever had throughout her life, hiding the fact that you wanted to be one of them at some point. 
All those wet dreams, fantasies, the fake situations of romance you’ve deluded yourself into - those kinds of things had to be channeled into something else to fill the space. 
You’ve kept it cool. Sometimes, in between the bleeding weeks, where she’s roaming around the house in the shortest pair of shorts, the tightest of tank tops, the curves way more present when she’s light on the balls of her feet, you eventually broke and resorted to that trusty old lotion and sock combo behind the door to your room. 
With a girl dressed like that, and those tits filling up your brain- 
(You’d be committing perjury holding yourself back for as long as you did.) 
“Okay, for the last time,” says Karina, hands stacked and her feet crossed. “All I ask is for you to just get out of the apartment for once, and have some fun. Is that hard?” 
You shake your head. “No, of course it isn’t.” 
Karina nods, content. She takes off her glasses and puts it on the marble counter, her pretty lashes batting with those violet-black eyes of hers. “There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” 
And there she goes, tapping your forearm while you nod in agreement; does a little hop in place like some cute bunny, her shirt loose and flowing and moving everywhere. She’s such a fucking bitch. So shameless. This girl’s attitude will be the death of you. 
She’s shaking her fists up in the air, doing some cha-cha move. The shirt isn’t doing her justice for her fucking breasts. 
Then she leans in, close. Her breath grazes your face and neck. She scrunches her nose while you’re ‘shooing’ her away; aware of the message and her point. Karina then steps back, tying a knot to her shirt, making her figure a lot more apparent. By some crazy form of timing, you turn your body towards her, freezing in place while the shirt molds around her chest, her waist - you’re clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth behind your lips since you wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. 
The imagination. The possibilities. 
“C’mon,” Karina says, reaching for your hand and tugging it, tilting her head up and angrily pouting. For fucks sake, the slightest resistance of pull makes those mounds bounce in place. You’re sick and twisted; she’s the sole reason to blame. “I want you to be my plus one.” 
“Had I not already said yes?” You’re asking, swearing under your breath. The ‘plus one’ role is a direct translation to ‘hey, i’m going to get fucked up tonight, and i want you to be there on standby to carry me home or even dd, okay?’. You remember from past experiences that it also means that being with her is a dice roll of what kind of Karina you have to deal with: the kissy Karina, the pissed-off Karina, the Karina with the ‘carry me home with the eyes that say fuck me until I can’t walk’ attitude. 
Sigh and roll your eyes back, it’s burned into your memory anyway. 
Putting it in layman’s terms wasn’t gonna cut it. Being honest isn’t gonna change her mind. You could get the King of England to threaten her for a price on her head and she’ll still find a way to get it overturned. 
As nicely as you’d want to be, it can only hold for so long. 
Karina isn’t the kind of person to throw you into the fire right away -no, she’s smarter than that. 
“You did,” she says, shaking her head side to side, moving her shoulders along since you’ve put her in a good mood. You’re trying to decode the action to the expression, connecting the dots possible if she’s fucking around or being genuine. Give into the preaching and encouragement that if you did go with her you’d have your fun with someone like her carrying half her energy - okay, you have a type; nothing wrong with that, but still. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already?” 
You have a hand up along with your mouth open; Karina’s a bit dense to think pragmatically. 
“What’s it gonna take with you to get off of your lazy ass and live life? When was the last time you and I went out together and did some dumb shit? That was when you had that thing with- who was that one girl? Winter? Or was it Giselle?” Karina carries on, trailing off with you walking not far from her. 
She pulls the hair tie out of her head - after what it seems to be five minutes since putting it on - her head moves to let the messy locks flow and pool behind her back, stretching her arms out before turning left and into her room. You stop at the doorway when she turns around, arms braced to the frame, smirking. 
“You said you weren’t doing anything, right? And you don’t have work until next week, right? So that automatically means that you’re free for the weekend?” 
“Well, yeah. Don’t forget that you went out with me and Ningning for that boring ass movie. So please, if you stop giving me shit for this, can I at least get ready before we head out?” 
Karina groans. “Ugh, why are you so fucking difficult to work with? I’ve set you up with three of my friends so far and only one of them has gotten close to getting in bed with you.” 
“Maybe I’m complicated,” you say back, turning the other cheek and thinking about that specific time not that long ago when she gave you the double thumbs up before being dragged by Winter onto the dance floor at that club near the school. 
“Complicated people don’t put their hands behind their back and let the girl get all touchy with them,” she teases, stopping in the middle of your doorway, shirt off and all she’s got is that jet black bra with the thinnest straps you’ve ever seen on her collarbones, but she doesn’t stop there: “Might I add that you wanted to try your luck into dating again and- hey. I know that kiss with Winter was the best one you’ve had in a while.” 
Karina smiles at your confused expression, hitting a pressure point. You’ve folded for girls before. She was there for some part of the fun. It’s a weakness; playing to your ideal characteristics and all she has to do is play the matchmaker and watch the magic happen. She got close. Almost. The support was unwavering, but you’re still searching. 
You don’t take long to get yourself situated, putting on whatever essentials you felt was right. Karina took a little bit more time to get ready. You know how she is: every part of her outfit has to be thought-out and well-layered if means of raising the ‘down to get fucked’ meter up past the 100-point scale. Sometimes it takes five minutes, other times it takes hours. 
She walks out of the hallway in a simple outfit. A grey tank top and baggy jeans that nearly cover her feet. Her brown leather jacket was the finishing touch draped around her arm, wrist, and fingers shining in her typical jewelry. 
The makeup was light too, a soft blush applied but the main culprit was her lips - and man, they have no right being that plump. 
“You’re staring.” 
A blink and a smirk here. An eyebrow raised soon after: “Are you saying I’m being rude?” 
“No.” 
It doesn’t register in your mind that she’s all up in your space the next second, holding your breath when she looks up to your chin. 
“Is there something that you want to tell me?” 
“Karina-” 
“C’mon, you’ve thought about me that way at least once-” 
“Fucks sake Karina, you’re delusional. I would never. ” 
She nods with a devilish grin, tilting her chin up, humming. You’re breathing out of your nostrils when she backs away, heading over to the door to put on her shoes. Everything that this woman does makes you reconsider the consequences (but hey, you’ve imagined what it would be like for her to wake up in your bed, wear your clothes she won’t think of returning unless you fuck that bratty attitude off her tongue.) A woman like her who can do it all, and you’re holding her jacket once you and her step out of the apartment and close the door. 
Most people would give their praise and high regard for putting up with her for this long because you’ve held out longer than anyone would have imagined. 
You’ve dealt with her energy all these years, the countless shenanigans that you have gone through with her since high school, and occasions where she shouldn’t have dragged you in but still did anyway. There’s a tolerance that one can only take so much of with Karina, and you always fail at that. (Always.) 
She’s too good to be real. 
Later, she’s on the phone, calling and texting her other friends that she planned on meeting up with, waiting out in the front yard while you’re keeping her close - like what a natural bodyguard would do with their assignment. 
“Are you wearing my jacket?” asks Karina, pinching at the pelt. “I was gonna use that for later.” 
“I look better in it,” you muse. “But I’ll give it back to you later when it gets colder.” 
“I’m gonna need it later for my look.” 
“That look you have right now is gonna get you fucked.” 
Karina gives you the same tilt of her head; this time, there’s a slight twinkle in her eyes that looks like the lightbulb just went off in her head. You’ve lit the match within her or signed someone off to their demise waiting for them in the next hour or so. 
She bites down her smile, her ego inflated. “Guess we can put that as a separate bet between us, then.” 
Well. 
Fuck.
You realize right away that going out didn’t seem to be a bad idea after all. 
Plus, it’s only been roughly two hours since Karina convinced you to help her out and tag along so now you’re here: a half-full cup of her go-to and watching the sight of everyone having their fun with one other person or in a group. She, on the other hand, has a guy with her - breaking down the awkward wall and playing the act of softening up with the blaring music. 
It’s a steady groove, music flows in her body so elegantly. 
The ambiance alone pounds your eardrums, eyes occasionally getting blinded by the flashing lights coming from the DJ’s stage, dancing her heart away and letting loose because it’s the weekend. She’s not the only one, too. Her little entourage surrounds her, dancing along and giving their attention to Karina - each one of them attractive and dazzling to look at. Karina was never one for the limelight, but once she’s got something going, it never leaves her. 
You can catch yourself getting sucked in the moment you laid your eyes back on her. 
The law of attraction: embodied by Karina. A phenomenon that you’ve learned happens on a weekend basis. Everyone that knows or has met her for the first time, is automatically influenced by her which doesn’t take much for that to happen. Some are joining in for the vibe, while others are trying to lean into her ear and get her attention that way, let their bodies do the talking, and see if she’s willing. 
Bad news, this girl is. You’re treading dangerous waters carefully. 
Moment by moment, every single guy who tries to approach Karina retreat in dejection and defeat. You can see it in their heads hanging in shame, the slanted lips, some make a last-ditch effort to bring her back to the bar for another drink, only to be stopped with the simple raised hand of hers, friends coming along as reinforcements to stop the inquisitions. 
Her eyes lock on to you, watching from afar. Like a lighthouse; a signal and a haven for her to find comfort in. She motions you to come to the dance floor; and to that, you raise your glass in earnest, insisting that where you are right now is fine. 
You keep staring, sipping. 
She’s fixed up her top again to where the curves are much more present than usual. 
So you decide to down your bearings, hoping that the thought of Karina could be swallowed down with ease; her damned smile, head tilts,  the swaying of her body (along with bouncing in some places without a care in the world) to the upbeat tunes until she’ll decide she can’t do it anymore. 
At some point, she’ll have to come get you to join. 
And you’ve accepted that it will happen sooner or later. 
Your shoulder gets bumped by one of the people making their way through on accident, diverting your attention for a second. Then- 
Karina’s out of your line of sight. 
Next thing you know- 
She taps your shoulder, tugging on your shirt. 
“Hey-” 
The words you were going to say were: ‘hey, what gives?’ or ‘something wrong?’; but for some reason, you’re left in a stun lock - a trance. There’s also another thing that you realize right away when she has her arms slithering around your middle and up your shoulders. 
She looks around as you track her head movements, checking for something - ensuring that the coast is clear - you can start to get an idea of what she’s trying to do. Your brows furrow, thrown off by Karina’s stoic expression. It’s impossible to see or understand what’s going through her head, but she nicks her head back towards the dance floor, and you instantly get the message. 
“Need you in here, now,” she mouths, but you tilt your head down to hear her repeat it. She then pulls onto the floor while you’re also surveying the crowd, seeing if there was anything fishy. 
Karina guides your hands around her waist, noticing her fingers twitch as they graze your forearm, hinting that something was off. You’ve been near her before, but not like this. She then bumps into a few people standing behind her, prompting you to pull her back towards you - pressing her body, hand now to your neck, chin resting on top of her head- 
You can deduce that this is not her usual self - the reverberating bass pounding into your bodies and hers serving as this sort of proxy to dance more and think less. 
She scratches the ends of your hair right above the nape, irises burning into your face. You assume that this was the favor that she was talking about: going to the club with her and having a good time? Why the fuck did she have to make it sound so complicated in the first place?
“Stay close to me, okay? There’s this guy that’s been trailing us since we got here. I just need some time - help me out, please.” 
You look over your shoulder, Karina centers herself with her hands cupped around your neck, peering over as well. The strobe light blinds your vision for a second before turning back. “Wait, how can you be sure?” 
“Trust me,” she tells you, expression flat, serious. “You’ve got a good sixth sense about these kinds of things anyway, you’ll know.” 
“But-” 
“Isn’t that the guy you mentioned just now-” 
Karina’s quick to get a finger between your lips, darts her eyes out then onto you. The indication alone confirms all of your suspicions. You can’t even see the poor guy, not when the flashing lights are giving you nothing but snapshots amongst the silhouettes and shapes in the dark. “Look, be cool. You’re safe with me. If he gets close I’ll get in–” 
“No wait- it’s fine. Just leave him alone,” she butts in, leaning her head against your chest so she can hide her face. “This is already good, okay? You did great.” 
You cradle the side of her head when she looks up, tongue caught between her teeth slightly. “No, I want to see what was his deal-” 
“Can you shut the fuck up already?” 
“Karina, I-” 
She pulls your head into hers: locking lips, derailing your train of thought. 
You make a sound in her mouth in response to the confusion, but it stops the bickering you two were doing a few seconds ago. She could feel you pull away, but leans her head up back for more, claiming your lips through the kiss; you swear that you and her aren’t that drunk yet. 
It shuts you up, alright. A moment of reprieve that doesn’t give you any time to think because fuck, this girl is making you second guess every single choice you’ve made in your life up till this point, wondering if you’re ever going to take your golden chance or give Karina an earful when you and her get back home later. 
Your fingers dig into the dips of her lower back, her hands on your cheeks, overloading your senses with her lips, giving you hard teeth and a swiping tongue - no time to think or catch up. 
The rest of the world fades out from your head, nothing between you and Karina putting everything on the line in terms of her feelings - almost like the roles had been reversed with her struggling to believe you had a thing for her and you letting your actions do all the talking.
You’re not thinking about the amount of regret you’ll have once all of this is over. Friends just don’t kiss each other out of the blue. No. Karina fed you the false belief that you’d do anything she’d ask you to do, which is why you’re doing this with her. You think this is all a dream, but you sense everything; that diminishes the present thought right away. 
You’ll give as much passion back to Karina, because it’s what you would do for her regardless:
Follow her lead, and listen to what she says; there’s always something with her that you’re blindly agreeing to. 
Karina pulls away for a moment to breathe, next thing you know her tongue slips past against yours, and your grip on her body becomes a lot less pleasant since she’s unleashed that craving hidden within. 
You touch her teeth, smiling. Her forehead gently rubs against yours, breaking the kiss, when you notice it in your peripheral: 
A girl with a hand to her mouth.
One girl next to her with her hand wound up in her hair, in complete shock. 
The third girl behind the two nodded in approval with a sly smirk. 
Yeji, Ryujin, and Yujin: Karina’s other cute little trio, watching their lovely friends finally have their moment together. 
You look back at Karina, rubbing her bottom lip with her finger, internalizing the taste of you. 
Then the realization settles in. 
“That guy backed away from us,” she tells you, “but I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself.” 
You glance over to see Karina’s trio watch as said guy turns his back into the crowd, retreating away. 
“What’s the matter? Speechless?” she asks again, finger happily dancing along your skin, and your hands aren’t moving off her body. You’ve never been shy with her, except this one time: right now. 
“Never with you,” you answer, matching her smug expression. “Never.” 
Karina hides her true intention again for a second, knowing that it’ll wither away the more she acts like this. Right, she can say one thing, though her actions are so easy to read from the minute she’s invaded your personal space. 
This girl is bad news in everything.
So you hold your gaze with her, wondering, connecting the dots. Speculating how long she’s been planning for this to happen, to be like every other guy that’s ever tried to get her in their bed or between those legs. Even so, she knows you’re not simple to break, and that’s where she’s got you. “I knew you had to be sure somehow, just didn’t think you’d go this far.” 
“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Karina eyes cross slightly as she stares at you, thumb grazing along your chin. “You were taking too long for my liking.” 
Liking? Surely not. 
There’s no possible way she could-
“What the hell does that mean?” You ask, staring back, tongue tip between your teeth. Your breathing starts to shallow. 
Karina leans into the side of your head, amidst the noise of the speakers and funneling her voice well in your ear canal. “It doesn’t make sense to me, you know. How we’ve known each other for this long, and we haven’t thought of even trying it at least once.” 
She knows where she’s going with this - all those times you’ve ogled at her hoping that she wouldn’t notice - or all of those times where you’ve talked about everything that had to involve life at any given point. You’d hoped that you dodge the question for a little longer. 
Karina’s friends managed to crack it out of you a while back, remembering it well. Her touch on your body has gone gentler, never breaking her gaze on you.
“How come you and I have never hooked up with each other?” 
You freeze. Feel the warmth spread across your cheeks; it’s an immediate catch, and you were praying silently that this was a dream. 
Exposed. Is what you are. 
Though Karina doesn’t falter here. Her eyes shimmer in the dim lighting. Wistful. You’re giving her enough time to figure out where your head was leveled at; like she would understand whether you wanted this or not. 
“Honestly, we could’ve.” You admit, with a sharp inhale. Hoping that the answer alone is enough for her sake. “Like- god, it would’ve been so easy. I wanted-” 
“Is it because you and I are just friends? That’s complete bullshit if that’s what you’re sticking with. I’ve seen you look at me that way before, or with my back turned; goes to show that you don’t have what it takes to get what you want, but I do.” 
You pull her close, and that gets her flustered. 
Both of your hands are on her face, leaning on her, stopping right at the lips, watch her eyelids flutter in anticipation. The thrumming of your heartbeat pounds between your eardrums, until she looks at you dead in the eyes, sliding her hand lower and lower, quirks her eyebrows once her fingers lay land over your pants. 
Your throat bobs, swallowing on nothing. The lightbulb sets off in her head. 
“Would you look at that? Oh my. Honey, you’re just like the rest of them. Try to deny it all you want, but you can’t get the thought of using my body to get yourself off. And guess what? I’d let you.” 
She’s got a key charm in being forward. And you find it to be so fucking sexy; saying things like that with no care for who hears, keeping it blunt and straight to the point; she could talk her way out of a speeding ticket and she really could. Karina was simply being herself, you could point the culprit in the alcohol or maybe her friends, but you’re still caught in her crosshairs and the window of escape is closing fast. 
You don’t do anything to resist the pair of hands at your neck and the seat of your pants - or the fact that she’s yanking your head back to meet hers and you hear all her friends squeal at the mere sight of Karina getting her chance. Everything about this is sensational, a new thing to adapt and learn by the minute. 
Here, when she lets you pull away: “You can do better than that, sweetie. Tell. Me.”
You’ll tell her everything that she wants to hear: how you’ve had a crush on her since high school, how you’ve managed to stay by her side after all these years, the fact that you couldn’t jeopardize what you already had. Besides, the risk of losing her as a lover and a friend was too much to bear, that she isn’t the kind of girl to have sex with because you love her and that will be the end of it all. 
Sooner than later, you’ll tell her that. So to suffice, you say: “I could’ve, believe me. We just never did.” 
From that alone, Karina shakes her head, neither rejecting nor accepting. Her wrists slack behind your neck, bring her waist closer until you’re able to lace your fingers around your arm. You’re nervous at what might be going through her head right now, gnawing your inner lip to keep your mind occupied. 
She looks you dead in the eyes, a twinkle behind them: full of inspiration, desire, hunger, want. 
You kiss her again, because you believe that’s the only thing right to do. “How bout this,” she says, giddy and sultry, “Why don’t we find this out for ourselves?” 
This wasn’t the first time you’ve been in this position. 
And certainly, it won’t be the last, either. 
You’ve put up with Karina’s bullshit for as long as you could remember: from carrying her on your back after a long night out to those times of sleeping on the couch since she complained her bed was too stiff and decided to use yours. You can think of one instance of every emotion she has, nothing but fun memories in those moments. 
However, you’ve never been like this with her. 
Until tonight. 
You catch yourself failing miserably in keeping your guard up with Karina. Not when she’s taking every red light as her chance to kiss you in the car, her hand sliding under your shirt and grazing your pants shamelessly. Not when you’ve pressed her tits up against the elevator door and flipped her around kissing you once more so that the camera guy can see, hear her giggle and hum at this new and improved version of you that she’s created. 
It’s all a rush for her, the way you can’t let go of her past the door, pin her hips against the kitchen counter, peel off the layers of clothes starting with her jacket, grasp her breast held captive by the tight holds of her tank top. You raise her on the marble so that she can match your height - make her feel taller, build that ego up, give her the false impression that she’s the one having fun.
Most definitely on the fact that you’ve got her tank top off in record time, gawking at the immeasurable amount of skin along those luscious valleys you’ve classified as her breasts. 
Karina’s head goes sideways, inquisitive. She sees you have your sights set on the prize, all within arms reach. “That’s cute, you’ve been eyeing these babies ever since I moved in, god you’re not that hard to whirl around.” You have your fun at her neck while her fingers are working fast at your pants, sliding her hand underneath the elastic of your boxers- 
“Jesus baby,” she husks, appalled with the curl of your fingers along the length. She thought the bulge earlier was already apparent enough - oh how wrong she was, looking down at the newly claimed prize. “Since when the fuck were you hiding this from me? This is not the same cock I hear you jerk yourself off with now and then-” 
“Just one of my few surprises,” you cut her off, jolting your hips forward when the grip around your girth gets a tad bit tighter. “Believe me when I say this, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 
Karina wets her lip, biting. 
She’s getting used to the new feeling of this. Of you. Her small hand holds you in place, trying to find the right words to describe or end with. You’re trying to see how far she would go - how much could she take; then, she drives another nail into the coffin: “Fuck. You’re like- really big.” 
You grin, since that’s got enough weight in the words to inflate your confidence through the roof. She twists her hand around while you’re peppering her face with your lips, over and over and over, until she’s completely broken you down and all signs seem to be pointing in that direction. 
You hear her hum in approval, sighing in relief, whisper these praises laced with your name. And when she says your name, genuinely, it comes off in a moment of seriousness - hallowed even. 
She’ll make you plummet into the depths of hell, or raise you to the golden pearly gates above; no matter the difference, you’re falling for one of two ways with her. 
It’s also putting you in a bad position because you know her experiences, what she wants, the mere basics of it. You pull her hips as she twists her hand by reflex, like it has a mind of its own, pumping your length. 
You hate how good she is at working you up. The wonders in sleight of hand: where to curl her fingers, how fast she should handle the strokes, the press of her thumb down on your tip, studying it while trying to figure out where to even start. 
“It’s not even fair at this point,” she tells you, sly smirking while you see her eyes fall halfway, softly laughing as she sees your knees buckle and hit the cabinet beneath her because you can’t respond properly. “You’re gonna take care of me so well. Using this to fuck my brains out.” 
Her smile goes even wider when your head falls back involuntarily, giving Karina the window to leave some marks of her own across your chest. 
Her ankles rest at the back of your thighs, leaning forward to get her other hand on your throbbing shaft, paying attention to your balls, weaving them between her fingers, dividing and conquering to no avail, to turn your mind into a puddle. 
“It’s gonna look so pretty in my ass,” Karina whispers into your ear, leaving more kisses behind, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “I bet I could make you cum with just my mouth, my hands. Maybe I’ll give you a tease, spread my legs and let you slip inside right here, since you’re so fucking hard that you could knock me out with this cock, hm?” 
Oh, what in the actual fuck- 
Right out of the gates, this girl is forcing you to be head over heels - to submit and bend to her will; she knows what to preach, her words alone fulfilling every single fantasy you have in the book, to take what’s hers and feed you that overpowering urge above all: to simply ruin her.
Unpredictability is something that Karina takes pride in: going slow at one point, then faster the next, dragging and shortening your breath in every stroke until the pressure becomes too much. 
She nods at her handiwork, sliding off the counter and pulling you by the dick across the apartment. That alone makes you snap and pin her - grab her by the arm and spin her around - press and bend her body over on the couch for a quick second. 
You pull her by the hair and shift her head; forcing her to lean up for a kiss. Flush your hips with hers where the weight of you might make her crumble right away. 
You almost feel bad about it, but that thought gets quickly diminished, because Karina knows how much she can handle. She wants to be taken rough, split apart, worship her body like it's some new testament you’ll reflect on in adoration, have her cunt fucked so thoroughly by you that she’ll come crawling back craving for more. 
“How long have you been waiting for this?” Karina grins into your cheek, running her hand up over yours greedily grasping at her tit. “All those slutty things I kept telling you, seems like you wanted some of the fun as well, huh?” 
Okay, she’s not wrong at all. You’ll bank that on the fact that she has most definitely heard you jerk yourself off at night, or the fact you’ve seen her walk out the shower naked but pretend to look the other way. With all those stories of her escapades, part of you wanted to join along now and then. 
So you give her mercy and lift yourself off from her, watch her glance over her shoulder when you’re following her to your room, fingers to the latch of her bra, the garment slipping off and falling to the floor. Her back is hypnotic to look at, and you find yourself chasing after her for another go. 
“This is gonna be bad for you,” she giggles, holding her by the door frame while your hands have a mind of their own, freely roaming across the canvas of her perfect body, sliding up and down and feeling the untouched territory yet to be claimed. “Can’t even stay away from me even for two seconds.” 
She sticks her ass out, dips her head down when you get a hold of her mound, the flesh alone having its little weight to it, graze your thumb over her nipples, pinch it, kiss the back of her neck, and leave another mark. You are going to take your sweet time with her; use your teeth, your mouth, your cock. Anything and everything in your arsenal to make Karina yours. 
It starts with the letdown. Now, we’re at a shuffle - a waltz, a sloppy waltz - until Karina spins herself around while you settle at the edge of your bed, hike up to your hips, rest them there, forearms on shoulders, kissing you once more. 
A gentle moan slips out of her mouth when you finally start indulging yourself in her fabulous tits. Seeing out the amount of fun you are going to have: licking, kissing, biting along the perfect skin. Your mind can’t seem to register the fact that your hands were made for holding them; the fit alone, it feels so nice. 
Fuck, it’s even better once you realize she’s so responsive to the touch. That alone prompts you to add oil to the fire and drop the intimate act for something more primal, hungrier. She does this little shimmy with her upper body, moving her breasts around for your mouth to be caught in between them like two mushy pillows molding around your face. 
Her hand slips under and grips around you again, the friction causing you to bite down on her skin. A fair trade at least - a two-way system - you touch her, she touches you. 
“God, I think I know why you held yourself back with me for this long,” her words heavy and just coherent enough to understand, “maybe I convinced myself that I couldn’t handle you.” 
You laugh into her breasts, her hand on the back of your head, tugging while she hears the hums. 
She sighs, relieved. Like there’s a weight finally off her shoulders. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” One second later, she pushes your head away, jaw slack, eyes clouded with lust, drunk on the taste of her skin, your hand sliding lower and lower from her waist, the warm surface getting even hotter when you reach her panties, grazing the lace. 
“It’s unreal, I don’t even have to tell you to say anything-” she sucks in a breath at the feeling of your fingers soaking up her slick, swipe your thumb upwards across her clit. “You win baby. I’ll let you have your way. I promise.” She tilts your head up for a kiss, grining her hips down, forcing the groan from you down her throat. “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of having.” 
You don’t even know where to fucking start. 
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you say, hitting the tip of your nose against hers; get a light-hearted laugh out. “I’ll make you regret them.” 
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me what’s going through your head right now? With me on top? I’m all ears.” 
It’s even worse when you see her hand slithering down from her tits. Lower. Lower. The influence already affects you when she brings your hand around your cock, slowly tugging along as she treats herself to such a sight. 
That said sight of Karina playing with herself; sighing, murmuring, tilting her head slightly as her breath shudders at the sound of you groaning whilst doing the same thing with yourself. You see the damage, the marks, the places where you’ll leave more bruises than before. 
You just have to- fucking- look. You have her in such a state that you have never imagined yourself being in, and now that’s realized right in front of your eyes. 
So you tell her exactly how you’ll fuck her. What position she likes the most, where does she want you to take her, how much you’ll twist her mind into becoming more desperate for you and your cock, when you’ll make her cum, rail that poor cunt of hers until she’s sobbing in the filthiest fucking mess possible. 
“I’d be sinning,” you tell her, admittedly. “If I didn’t say that you’ve never imagined me fucking your tits unlike now. Better yet-” 
“And let me guess, you were hoping to God that there was at least somebody out there who could fulfill that desire for you, right?” Karina interrupts, hand still in between her legs, watching you shamelessly jerk yourself off. She sighs, “So original. I think you deserve more than that.” 
Uhm- well- okay, yeah. 
“What, too weird?” You ask right after, breathless, your shaft throbbing around your fingers a tad early for your taste. “Ouch. I get it. It’s fine.” 
“No, no, no,” Karina sighs, licking her lips. Her eyes shine through yours, a supernova unraveling. “I think we can settle with this. You fix me, I fix you. Deal?” 
Who’s to say that there was a chance Karina had the same vision as you? 
It’s a freeze-frame moment when the realization hits you for the first time. 
You’re seeing, but still having a tough time believing:
The sight of your cock being swallowed up by her tits, tongue laving at the tip, her hands compressing her chest inwards so that she can hold you there - focus on her lips and listen to the soft moans all lovely and adoring. Your poor cock: leaking with precum mixed with spit and when it’s all slicked up, you’ll put her on her back and make her press her breasts together, slip right back inside the heat and press into the friction. A gift from the heavens, you think. God, you’ll praise and worship them for as long as you live. 
“Shit,” you barely manage, rasping, like it’s some epiphany, as if this was new for her. “Karina, that’s incredible.” 
Her eyes dart at you, lashes flickering. The subtlety alone is near cute, even when her fingers dig into the skin of her tits, pinching at the nipples, tongue hanging out as some of the spit starts to drip over into the cleavage. 
She lowers her mouth right above the tip, seals it around your thick cockhead lightly. “Really?” 
You clench your jaw a little tighter, “God,” you huff, tensing up your hips for the thrust, fucking into the pressure, stare as she moves her tits downward to meet in the middle. “Fuck, yes.” 
“Don’t you suppose that this is good for me as well?” She then asks, dazed. 
“Why- fuck. Why the fuck are you asking me?” You rasp, tone gentle the next second. “Judging how hard you’re pressing, I hope that you won’t let that go to your head.” Karina’s face lights up with excitement, tilts her head down into your hand, smirking as she hears the stable breathing. Her brown eyes - like her tits - are soft, easy; her plump bottom lip sweeps the head of your cock once again. 
She hums as she stares. Chuckles at the mere buck of your hips. Cute. 
“Hmmm, maybe I will,” she accepts. 
You scoff, mixed with relief and with disbelief because Karina’s tits are fucking unreal and to top it all off she’s sucking you off while your cock is held captive between them; though you’re stuck in a hypnosis and that’s the only sensible reaction of Karina that you could give her. “Karina,” you’re seething, “Jesus, Karina-” 
She moves her chest in this side-to-side motion, wiggling her tits like it’s some shameless dance move, proposing. “What’s the matter, baby? All that waiting and you can’t hold it together?” She asks, arms moving inward with her elbows at the bottom line - her drool dribbling down her tongue and into her cleavage in this messy waterfall. “You wanna cum in between my fucking tits, hm? Right in the middle? Paint them white over these red marks you kissed all over-” 
The sound ripping from your throat is an indication of the first layer of your inner wall being broken down. It’s just for show, but she’s taking it literally. She has a knack for talking filthy. Here you are losing it. Her hand holds you by the base and pumps you - rubs your balls for good measure, pushing, soothing, encouraging - and Karina’s eyes shimmer while her mouth shifts, something more shrewd, vicious. 
“You fit so well here,” she gasps, “God, I wonder how it’ll feel when you stuff up my tiny pussy-” 
Your head falls back and you’re swearing. Clenching your fists while your elbows start to slide back. 
“Karina,” you say again, because it’s easier to speak than think. “I’m- I’m,” 
Her lips pout, shaking her head, disappointed. “No. Don’t,” she sighs, “Don’t you dare,” she says next, “please, I want it inside, inside me - in my pretty little pussy, make me feel good, so full, want your - mmm,” you see her eyes close, biting her lip at the idea, whining, “you’ve dreamt of cumming inside me - breeding me, knocking me up for fun-” 
This girl is something else - good on you to match up to her craziness - and you’re biting your lip along with her as well, watching her hand slip under to her clit while she holds your dick between her tits, thighs shaking as she spreads - it’s ingrained into your head, the sight of it. She wants you to breed her, or whatever is remotely close to cumming on her - and Karina will keep on asking for your input of all these things she’s projecting, leave it up to interpretation before acting on it. You’ve never thought you’d see yourself be like this, let alone have Karina act this way all for you. You’ll keep pondering about it long after you’ve had your fill - or her having her fill - it could go both ways for all you know. 
Still. The girl keeps moving. 
“Oh my fuck,” you slip out, different sayings all preaching the same message, “that feels so fucking incredible,” which isn’t enough to describe the present state of things nor does it fulfill the bare minimum of everything either but for Karina’s ego and with her smirk - because that’s how it always was, just feels right. 
“You’ve never said anything about it, but you’re obsessed,” Karina taunts. “This mouth, these tits, they’re all for you - you could have me any way you want,” she keeps her hands moving while her head sways from one end to the other, sighing as her tongue stops at her teeth. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you so desperate to fuck a slut like me and claim her like she’s yours.” 
She presses inward with her tits. You feel your shaft swell even harder. A lift up, then a drop. Repeat. You’re tensing every muscle in your waist as hard as you can. 
“So?” You ask weakly, huffing. “So what, okay- shit. You-” 
Next thing you do is pick up right where you left off. Thrusting into her tits and feel your pace fluctuate to the point that it’s gotten so dirty as you’d imagine fucking her cunt could get, hips smacking skin on skin, into the softness of her breasts, wet sounds and gasps let out through every slap. 
“Right there, cum,” she mutters, irises foggy, straight out of your wet dreams, leaning her neck forward with her jaw hung open so that you can fuck yourself straight into her mouth, look down at your wobbling hips - throbbing and twitching as she drinks in the sight of you nearing that edge. “Fuck my tits like that, cum all over them, wanna feel, wanna hear how much you want me.” 
You say her name, or at least try to. The sound incoherent, broken, and apologetic; just downright humbling. The best thing you can do is make good on your part. Your cock is so deep in between her tits, the messy slick and warmth enveloping you wholly; fingers doing the little adjustments, a rough measure of how her pussy will wreck your dick later - dragging her breasts across the sensitive edges, the lightest touch of her fingers at the top, flicking the underside. It’s too much, too fast, too- 
“God, Karina-” 
“Oooh,” she beams, ecstatic. “Oh my god.” 
Soon you feel yourself spilling everything in the tightest spot of her breasts, mouth slacking as she watches in awe of your cock tensing and erupting your release all over the skin of her chest, her throat. Her chest heaves along with the pulsing, shaking her tits soon after, gently pumping out the remnants of white, squeezing. It’s unholy what she’s doing, eyes glassy and spit slathered across the space, face flushed and chin dripping with your cum; and she lowers herself to where your shaft is in line with her face, pursing her lips - like some money shot - full and getting an appetizer of what’s to come. You ghost your hand to the back of her head, cautiously - the hand between her legs treats to her clit, the other wrapped around your shaft and smacking your dick on her cheek, so it’s a definite premonition come to life: her on her knees and dreamily staring at your dick while she’s soaking up your white hot mess. 
“Aww, well that’s too bad. Couldn’t hold it at the first go. Shame on you,” mutters Karina, grinning and letting out a soft pitiful laugh. 
“You’re fucking insane.” 
“And what are you gonna do about it?” she asks, patting your ass in comfort. She massages her tits right in front of you, the webbing of cum spread across the inner parts of her mounds, in the gap of the heavy curves. “I can’t believe you- God, you came so fucking much.” 
You keep on staring while you’re fighting for the last bits of consciousness left - like if you hit the canvas in a boxing match, and your coach helped you up with counting: one, two, three, four, up, up, up, up; you’ll try to focus on the breathing, take your time, continue to blink while the rest of the world fades out from your vision and all that’s there in the middle is Karina’s sluttiest form fully culminated. That’s all you see: the right angles and curves of her breasts, well sculpted and detailed that you’ll keep observing in reverence. It’s so much to process, the first glance at the scene of the crime, all over Karina, unreal and cute and just- perfect. You’re not dreaming, the nerves in your body overloaded with stimulation to properly conclude that Karina was purely made as a vessel to take limitless loads of cum in and all over her outright beautiful body. 
“Well-” You sigh heavily, a weight lifted off your shoulders. “I’m kinda- ugh. Yeah.” 
But Karina still has you on the palms of her hands, deciding what’s enough on her terms. 
Because one second later, she spreads your legs more and slides her tongue up from your balls and upwards against the underside, then to the tip. She giggles at the feeling of you snapping to attention from the contact, and you sharply inhale at the sensation, ready for more. 
“You should know that you have to deal with me the right way,” adds Karina. “This was just the start.” She then glances down to her fingertips, picking up the cum smeared all over her chest and licks it up, eyes fixated on you with interest while alternating the treatment of her lips to her fingers, to your cock. “Still speechless about my performance?” 
You roll your eyes, flaring your nostrils. “Do you do this with every guy you get in bed with?” 
Karina laughs at that, batting her lashes. “Not really. But if you’re gonna shut me up, make sure it’s with your cock.” 
Her brows light up in excitement when rake your fingers into her hair, pull her back, at the point where she surprisingly gasps. You flick her hand away from your cock, notice her mouth drop lower, expecting you to do as she says: plug one hole up for the time being. 
You don’t do that, though. Your mouth finds hers and it fills the space for the moment. 
A moment where the intimacy reaches the sweetest. In all the right ways, you’re defying her wishes through actions rather than words. Karina forces a high-pitched hum down your throat, clashing her teeth into your face, catching your lip in the midst, pulling. You’re sure she wants to see you hurt - she’s already done that - two can play at that game. 
Your hands slot themselves at the slides of her face, gripping, eager mouth keeping you focused on the task at hand, and it’s second nature when her arms wrap around your neck, lifting her up from the floor. She won’t stop giggling, laughing; the noises a spell of their own, cursing you - an unsaid promise that you’ll give to her even when you’re flipping her around back on the mattress. 
The weight of you two creaks the springs when Karina rolls herself over and finds herself on top of you. You feel her slick folds glide up your leg, the stickiness mixing in with your skin and tainting. Her conquest doesn’t stop there, until she settles the heat over your cock, grinding, the ache alone enough to make you writhe in wanting. 
She flips her head over to one side, breaking the kiss, falling back down for more. Her eyes and yours are both out of focus, panting heavily. She’s fucking unbelievable, a red herring that you had all the wrong ideas for, finally seeing the truest form of her nature being awakened. 
You say something remotely close to your thoughts. 
She looks at you, astounded. 
Sighs. 
You feel her hand cradle your head tenderly. 
Meets your forehead with hers and smiles. 
Tracing a finger to your jaw, pinching the skin soothingly. 
“You’re going to ruin me,” Karina whispers, kissing your cheek. “I hoped it was you to be the last one I try my luck with.” 
You close your eyes because it’s the truth.
Your hand shoots up for the headboard behind you, gripping. She helps grab the other arm and pins them together, captures your lips once more and it’s too intoxicating to fight against. She continues to grind her hips against yours, feel the heat of her cunt and her folds glide above you.
The teasing is insufferable, feeling her warmth wash you over. 
“I’ve waited long enough.” 
The words are at the tip of your tongue, but they won’t come out. 
“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” she carries on, softly laughing as you’re crumbling underneath her weight. “And now, you- and this cock, is mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.” 
She dips your cock in, sinking, slowly, the inches getting swallowed up in increments. You moan in response, kissing her collarbone. You’ve imagined what it would be like, prayed that one day you’d get the glorious chance to be inside this wonderful heat. It’s something else, like a long reward that you’ve sought out for but it's the fact that Karina’s tight cunt is practically making you choke where you could die and be happy with it. 
“Jesus fuck,” you groan, the fibers in your body tensing. She just sighs, hoists her hips up, and sinks back down again. 
She does it again - and again, and again. The movement alone; painstakingly slow and increasing with every passing second. Her hips seizing yours in place and fucking you like that’s all she’s meant for; like this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime moment and she’s going to take every advantage of it. As if she feared you telling her to forget everything about tonight and move on like it’s normal. 
“It’s not even fair, the way you make me feel,” sighs Karina, yielding to the pleasure, head dipping down. “I should’ve known - fuck, I really should’ve known. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 
Your hips match hers in a dance, unable to answer. Unwilling to, actually. 
Because you’d rather save the words for later and live in the present, her body consuming you at a rate that shouldn’t be humanly possible. The way she rides on top of you, head and shoulders and arms invading every corner of your being, reigning fire. It’s so fucking good - her cunt, the warmth, the feeling, it’s impossible to think straight and there’s a part of you in the corner of your mind that’s jumping for joy. Walls tearing down from within, freeing you. 
If you’re not careful, it’ll be even worse when you’re guzzling your cum into her tight pussy before she even has had the chance to fuck your cock properly. She’s holding you hostage, bounding your hands with hers - a beautiful punishment to undertake. The moans and sighs alternate, complimenting one another as she continues to jut her hips forward and back - back and forward. “I hate you,” she’s saying, “I hate how you had the fucking guts to not let me try.” 
God, it really is pathetic for you. Karina figuratively digging her fingers into every nook and cranny of your brain, making you want - want to lose it, to be desperate, to be the version of you that’s capable enough to go beat-for-beat with her. The groove of your index and thumb settle at her waist, picking up the pace, use the drag of her cunt across your cock, but Karina grasps your jaw, mouthing an ‘ah, ah, ah’ as a consequence for your eagerness. 
Slamming her ass back down, she chokes an utterance out of you, “Fucking- Karina-” 
And Karina hums, letting her lower half do the work. “What’s wrong?” she asks, all innocent and sweet that doesn’t cover her sinful act. Perfectly calculated in her head of how she’s working you up. “What are you gonna do? Fuck me?” 
She took the words right out of your mouth. 
She finally managed to break you. 
You’re not nice about it, either: breaking the little restraint from her hands, hooking your arms underneath her shoulders, turn her over and yank her hips back to yours. 
The gasps. You want more. 
Karina tests the waters again when she breaks free from your grasp, forcing you to push her down on the mattress by the head, claw your fingers into her scalp, raise her up to flush her waist and hold her mouth open, taking account of the newly formed arch in her back - the perfect fucking bell curve. 
She sighs again. Not in shock, no. In relief. Satisfied, ecstatic, excited, as if she’s finally getting what she wants - for you to have enough and put her in her place. “God, yes. Fuck yes. Fucking do it. Do it! C’mon-” 
You slip yourself inside and shut her up for a second, feel her walls clamp around your throbbing member. “Like this?” You ask, snarling into her ear cuff, pulling her by the hair where she won’t even complain about the pain. “Want me to be like this with you from now on?” 
“You have no idea,” Karina says, nodding frantically, the arch of her hips moving backward against you. “How much I needed this from you.” 
Pushing your buttons and limits is what she does best. 
So you grab her by the throat, give a sloppy placement of your mouth at the corner of her lips, forcing her to look up and back. The angle where your cock is embedded rips her apart at the first slam. You’re going to fuck her. You’re going to fuck her ruthlessly. Fuck her cunt so bad like you’ve always wanted to the day she accidentally flashed herself at you and the image of her figure burned into your memory. 
She keens when you bottom out completely, filling her up to the brim with your cock. Stokes coming along easier and easier as the claps of skin start to reverberate around the walls of your bedroom -  thrusting up into her cunt and not giving a fuck about the rest. 
Karina tugs at your hair, finding a place to hold herself together, hips stilling and moving and eventually freezing. You’re up to the plate now, dishing out the real work far better than her. 
You are going to break her. Pound her ass. Bounce her cunt all over your dick, listen to how her breaths shudder and choke in the stale air with every upstroke. Your mind is working double time - trying to figure out how much she can take, where are her sensitive spots and capitalize on the weak points. 
The hints are in her body, you take that into account. She takes in every inch with her cunt, eyes fluttering shut, sighing in complete adoration. Willing to let you pour every ounce of your being onto her; these feelings, these frustrations. A place where you can let your imaginations run wild, her body a sacred temple built to ruin, in all of the harmonious sounds that come out of her mouth, occasional screams to let you know what you’re doing is right. 
When she cradles the side of your head again, staring forward at the mirror placed behind your bed along the wall, she grins, watching you place a kiss along her throat, leaning her head back to deepen the angle, runs a hand over yours, treating itself to one of her tits. “Baby, you can never have enough of me.” 
That earns her a firm grasp of your arms, pulling her closer. She shouldn’t even be able to speak, let alone have this much fun. You push her down back on the bed, hands sliding down her waist, stopping at the indent of her hips, dragging your cock out and yanking her ass back in. “Do you ever fuck your girls like this?” 
“Are you always this talkative during sex?” 
“Not exactly,” her breath hitches when you bend over the swell of her ass, swipe your finger above her clit to tease. “I’m eager- ah, eager to see,” she bites down her moan when you spread her sopping pussy lips apart, feel her leak even more on your cock, “how far you’d go-” 
You’re getting there, that’s for sure. 
Now you’re wondering what else you can do with her hips up and knees spread wide. 
“Stay right there,” you say, pressing a hand down her spine to deepen the arch, her ass getting bigger at your waist, palm full of fine skin, “and let’s see.” 
Her fast shriek registers a second after you smack the surface, the sound mimicking the crack of lightning. 
You slap her ass, impale yourself back in, watch as your cock disappears from your view. 
Karina’s face dives into the sheets, muffling her scream. 
“Big mistake,” you growl, seeking your fingers into the roots of her hair, snatching. You spank her again. 
And again. 
And again. 
The punishment and reward: you smack her ass, fuck into her, feel her body blossom with heat and flushed with crimson; handfuls of sheets or pillows or anything that’s within reach. Her cunt gushes even more, the throaty moans hiccuping as her body convulses more because of the blowback, and she’s still smiling.
“God- oh my God,” Karina pants, fingers back between her legs as she throws her ass back now, completing the motion. “So forceful.” 
You cup the sides of her waist, press your fingers over the blotches of red, skin rippling each passing second your hips flush with hers. The sounds of the smacks and the gentle creaks of the bed are already erotic enough that the spanking in between is just the cherry on top. 
All that Karina has to do in this situation is to simply ride out the wave of pleasure, body slightly jaded through every firm impact of your cock weaving itself inside her cunt, the vice closing in every millisecond. 
“-so good. You’re so good,” spits Karina, eyes cinched shut; a sharp inhale when you reach that spot, body seizing. “K-keep using my cunt, just like that- wanna feel your dick ruck up inside-” 
You’re grasping at her neck, deepening the angle. You want to melt into her, to feel everything. To fill her mind up with nothing but just you. 
“You did this to me,” you grit, pulling her back on your cock; listen to her stutters for an answer. “This is all on you.” 
But she giggles, head swiveling forward and face first into the pillows, but her wailing still breaks through. She comes back up for air soon after. Whatever she can get, “The plan, baby,” she’s telling you, “It was all part of the plan. Always.” 
That twists your mind in more ways than one. Her mouth, her hands, her body, all within arm's reach. You grasp at her tit again, drive your cock back into her cunt, her moans inching up an octave, and the shimmer coming out of the corner of Karina’s eye gives you all the more reason to keep going. 
“I’ll break you until you’ve had enough,” she breathes out, and her face contorts to something remotely pained, “please, for the love of fuck- don’t stop bouncing my pussy on your- fuck!” 
It hits you when you’ve finally worked Karina to stop talking. Breathless. Heaving. You sigh out of rapture, the feeling washing over you like you got dunked in water. A new enlightenment fully realized - the full manifestation of her creation, and now she’s on the receiving end of it.  
You give her two more firm strokes inside her; drag yourself out and rub your tip over her folds. She wiggles her ass in response, tempting you. Having another fill as her cunt clenches your cock once more, slick soaking up your skin until the friction is almost seamless, siphoning every part of your being just for her. 
This angle is dangerous: the way her stomach is nearly flat, you find your bearings above her, pushing in, too deep, holding her by the hips, anchoring, knees apart and at an angle where they would be if she was kneeling on a pew. Instead, you grab one leg, then the other - get your palms full of her waist in supplication as the undersides of the peak of her thighs meet yours, curves rippling on impact, thrust your cock into her open cunt where you’re rubbing all of the spots at once, gliding in so easily where the pace alone really sets itself into place. Her hand tends to one of her tits, hopelessly keeping it in place while you’re hooking her back for that arch and cementing the motion as your own. The time of teasing and playfulness is over, as you’re chasing to make the aches in her body a problem and sever all the nerves in her system until you can visibly see her limbs shudder - fuck out a complaint from her lips to make you stop and not act so greedy about it; but then your mouth is back on her again, hoping to sedate her thoughts as you let your lower half keep up the work. 
Then you sigh something between the space of the lips, an undertone: “You like this, love?” 
A nod is the only response she can give you, mouth parted and unable to coherently say anything in particular, so grab her chin. 
She’s getting there. You know. You can tell. 
“This pretty little cunt, all for me, no?” 
Karina mouths a ‘fuck’, biting her lip immediately after. 
“I’ll use you in whatever way I want.” 
Her hand swoops over and presses your forehead against hers, whining in pure euphoria.
“Let me hear you,” you urge, hand moving up so you can close her mouth, lighten up on the pressure so that she speaks a bit more freely. “I want you to say it.” 
Karina locks onto your eyes, searching for the right words in your head, and you know she will- 
Because Karina knows that she’ll be good for you. Your perfect little fucktoy. A personal slut who’ll always let you have and you know this well enough since it’s taken you this long to finally see it. “Oh baby it’s all yours, it’s all yours, it’s all yours. I promise- I promise that it’s all yours and it’s no one else’s- I promise it’s only yours just keep fucking-” 
To say that your ego was inflated would be an understatement. But man, words can not describe how much you wanted her to scream it out at the top of her lungs. 
Your groaning matches hers in volume, the bedframe not too far off to scrape across the hardwood. You’re pretty sure that the springs will bounce along with your bodies as well. 
“So pretty,” you praise, kissing her. “I’m gonna have this cunt all to myself. Whenever. Wherever-” 
Karina’s head lolls back and up, clutching onto your neck for added support. Heaving as you’re fucking the air out of her and makes her voice have this raspy tone attached to it: “That’s cute. You won’t have to look very far now that there’ll be one room for us to share.” 
You pause, blinking. Your finger moves a wisp of her hair away from her face, her eyes widening and fulll with sparkles. Never in a million years, you’d find yourself to be in this position - inside of Karina - but here we are. No need to move fast when you’ve done the hard stuff already. 
“So what,” you say, picking up a stable pace in her cunt, saving the dissipating control where you can. What’s there to be left said when it’s already shown? “It’s bad news for you because I’m gonna have you every chance I can get.” 
“You wanna let the whole world know how rough you’re fucking me? Be my guest,” she tells you, palm braced to your waist and moving her hips in this body-roll motion, biting her lip as the entity of sin returns in her mind, taking over. 
“I’m too good for you,” continues Karina, light-hearted and giddy, as if she’s not trying to milk every bit of you into her fucking pussy. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” 
She’s right about that. Fortunately, this is more than just a dream. This is reality. You have endless memories with her as it is, and you’re positive that you’re excited to create more of them with her. 
“I guess you could say this is one more secret kept away.” 
A hand to your face, gentle. Loving. “My handsome boy.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“You are.” Karina breathes with an airy laugh, voice getting hazier. Cock drunk and fucked out of her mind. It’s working. “So hot.” 
“Gonna talk?” 
“Fuck-” she then sighs, hissing, and the smirk fades from her face, something more warm, languid, laid back. Her mind is gone. “Fuck.” 
You nod and give her a smirk of approval. Proud of your latest curation. The girl that everyone wants, only wants you. The beauty in that exclusivity lifts a weight off your head, and you’re far inclined to accept it head-on. 
“How bad do you want me?” You ask, biting down a kiss to push some life into her. Tears welled up at the corners, letting her feel every inch where you could take it. 
“I should be asking you, how far are you gonna hold out for me?” Karina purrs. “I’ll give you what you want if you let go first.” She tells you, pulling her body upwards and shifting the limbs around before you find yourself sliding back into her where the angle is at her cunt’s hottest point. A spot where you’d never turn back on. 
The pressing of the crease at her knees, legs pushed up high. Your cock is so embedded and consumed by her pussy that you’re having trouble staying upright. 
She then says this mantra - a phrase said differently but its message is very clear: “I’m all yours,” she wails, “I’ll always be yours if you let me- fuck! Only let me have this cock all to myself.” 
It’s happened multiple times before in your life: being wrapped around her finger. But this- this takes the meaning to a whole new level. Her body claims you as its own and you’ll surrender to that discovery for as long as you walk on this earth. 
The strokes keep going, the mindnumbing sensation coming to its fated end - that blissful release and last bits of pent-up feelings of Karina; her cunt a glove, sheathing your cock perfectly with every thrust, clenching around your girth to pump you out. 
You’ve already laid the cards on the table a long time ago or- even now, when she’s seen you in the most vulnerable state, fucking into the mattress so deeply and loudly that you’re not even worried about the potential noise complaint coming from the neighbors. 
She’s calling out your name. Just your name. Nobody else’s. Telling you how to keep fucking her. Hard. Fuck her poor little cunt until you’ve dumped every last bit of your load in her and fill her until she’s leaking out white between her legs. 
“Baby, I can feel you throbbing. Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum so fucking much- Please, I want it. I need it. Just- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 
She loses first. 
And my lord, she’s fucking wrecked. 
You bottom her out and hold her hips in place, cunt quivering and her toes curl and feet in the air, moving with what little mobility they have left because you’re pressing down the underside of her thighs, yelping and wailing and screaming to the point she might break the fucking glass on mirror and windows. 
“Baby. Baby, I can’t fucking move- you son of a bi-” 
Karina’s pussy squelches around your cock, a new layer of slick added to the mix of spit and precum. You pull out halfway and rub her clit at an inhuman rate, feel her liquid sputter out, hit some parts of your body, squirting. 
She’s squirting even more when you’re slapping the head of your cock across her pussy lips, watch her body spazz out and tense up almost like she’s having a seizure or going into shock, blabbering complete nonsense and you’re kissing her harshly on the fine column of her throat. 
You could care less, because all you just want to do is fuck Karina, feel the glide of her cunt become even smoother than before. Read into how her body responds to yours and the mess just gets even more filthier. The sounds- God, the fucking sounds. It’s a perfect harmony. 
The pace steadies with the beat of your heart, thrusting your cock into her cunt and keep her figure moving until she’s able to gather her thoughts, finding the right words along the teeth to where she says: “cum in me, fuck your cum into me,” and the sobs compliments her heaving. “Please, I want it. Give it to me. I wanna be full-” 
It lights a fire under your ass, every ounce of your being finally collapsing. 
You’re managing where you can; burying yourself in the deepest depth of Karina’s pussy, cumming in the hottest point - and the senses and nerves in your body are contracting and expanding in all the right places- 
Your body and Karina’s: finally becoming one. 
Your cock and lips are the sole sources of connection to her as she coos at the multitudes of cum filling her pussy up. 
The embodiment of perfection. The tightness. So snug. You can feel it. Every fiber of your being let out through your release and her small little hole - holding your cock through the pulsing, legs frozen as your arms slither to Karina’s back, exhaling so hard that you’re certain one of your lungs might break. 
“That’s fucking amazing, baby. Oh, baby, keep giving me your cum - I need- I need it, ah. God-” 
You could feel your vision start to blur in and out of blackness, her whimpers and soft moans a gentle sonata, soothing through your high as her fingers grazing across your skin is enough contact to course electricity through you. And you rest your head against hers, taking asylum in the space above her shoulder, hips slowing and breath racked with exhaustion. Her hand rubs against your lower back, massaging the last bits of cum deep while the rest of her body goes limp, sweat glistening all over her skin as if she got baptized, finally blessed with the afterglow. 
“So much cum,” she’s saying, over and over, a prayer in itself, “There’s so much cum in me.” 
You release the restraints of your hands from her body, pulling on her side until her legs start to tangle with yours, cock still wrapped around her pussy, unable to leave or pull out. Her thumb swipes across your eyebrow, tapping the temple. Internalizing the events that occurred just now, reeling away from the pure emotions and the mere point of it all. 
At last, you and her are both drained. Like you’ve gone twelve rounds with her. You’re willing to go one more, because she’ll want that too. 
You’re then combing Karina’s hair down, patting the back of her head while she leans into your chest cavity and showers your collarbones with kisses. She nestles her face deeper when you bring her closer, swooping the sheets from beneath until it covers both of you. 
It’s comforting. This new home. 
It’s everything. 
“Don’t sleep yet,” you whisper to her, kissing her forehead while her eyelids flutter lazily. 
Her head tilts. There’s a slight shake on the ends of her fingertips; she brings them close to her face. You gaze down to see her mouth try to form a few letters - a word - only say nothing at the end of it. 
“It was always you,” she breathes, the projection alone a new belief to instill. Your face shifts to something confused, thrown off. But you’ve repeated and reciprocated the same thing even though most of it was unrequited. “Part of me was worried for like- the longest time, and now-” 
You hush her, her body sinking more into your touch, the warmth encapsulating her like a cocoon. The aches soon settle in and you let the pillowed conversations flow to a more interesting topic. 
When the next morning comes around, your mind is doing its best job to make you succumb to the inner machinations of your visions. The effects of the alcohol still present - which explains the partial dizziness, though your memory is kept intact. Most of it feels a bit smudged, like the faint image of a mirage of some haven out in the blistering heat of the desert. Soon your eyes are filled with the endless plane of the ceiling above, and you feel a whole lot lighter- 
The weight pressing down on your arm was no more. 
You arch your back, feel the limited mobility in your lower half, and inhale deeply. 
A prop of your elbow betters your view; realizing the sheets were off your body, your legs slightly spread apart, feel the shocking tingle of nails scratch along your skin, crotch surprisingly warm - not to mention wet. 
Karina looks up with a neat pop off the head of your cock, an airy laugh passing through her lips, slides her tongue up the length before she carries on with bobbing her head between your legs, cock hardening in the heat of her mouth. 
“Jesus fuck-” 
You feel her hand wrap around you, grinning, biting down a patch of skin near the base. She pumps you once, maybe twice, and tilts her face sideways when she sees your jaw slack and lips salivating. 
Well. It's one hell of a way to say good morning. 
“Aw, did I scare you? Well, you better enjoy this because I won’t be waking you up like this unless I feel like it.” 
That’s how all things go, unfortunately. The ways Karina wants you to do these favors of hers.
Except now-
You can bet your ass that you’ll love every fucking second of it. 
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kaidatheghostdragon · 9 months ago
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Found this while going through my fanfic files, and i absolutely had to share.
Danny: i want in
Red robin: …what?
Danny: your bat family. I want in.
Red robin, blinking in surprise: i dont know what you think you know about my associates, but we're not-
Danny: dont be obtuse. I know youre the smart one. And i also know that your all one big relatively happy family. I want in.
Red robin: …why?
Danny: because you guys are the first people ive found that are wealthy, intelligent and powerful enough to take on my fruitloop godfather and win AND are decent enough human beings that i can be assured that when all is said and done, my well-being will remain a top priority.
Orphan, appearing out of nowhere: new brother!
Danny: *stares in shock*
Danny: *sudden uncanny grin* well that's one convinced. How do i win over the rest?
Orphan: no need. New brother!
Red robin: *pointed glance of betrayal* fine. Who is your godfather?
Danny: vlad masters. He's a fruitloop.
Red robin: for real? B's been investigating him for years! Tell me everything! *genuinely excited for a new lead*
Danny: well, he's tried to murder my dad and marry my mom, gained his wealth illegally, committed voting fraud to become the mayor of my hometown, has a secret underground lab where he does unethical experiments, and he's abducted me more than a dozen times even before my parents disowned me to make me his evil apprentice or whatever. Now that im homeless, he's literally out to get me. Oh! And he's cloned me too! She's cool though, we're buddies now.
Batman, who just arrived but heard everything over comms: hn. (Translation: who are you?)
Danny: my name is Danny. No last name anymore, but im hoping itll soon be Wayne! *winking suggestively*
Batman: hn? (how much do you know?)
Danny: enough to know that youre a much better alternative to vlad.
Batman: …hn (i dont know anything about you. What if youre a spy for vlad?)
Danny, giving his salesman pitch: i was a teen vigilante in amity park before i had to run away from home for my own safety. Vlad is one of my rogues. I know how to fight and defend myself, how to minimize collateral damage in a fight, and ive gotten really good and escaping kidnapping attempts. Ive also managed to reform and/or make allies out of approximately half of my rogues and can talk down about 30% of all rogue confrontations before they turn into a messy fight. The other things i can bring to the table are: one, i can teach all of you guys proper liminality self care; two, i can probably minimize and possibly cure red hood's anger issues; three, i can get along with stabby robin because i consider fighting a friendly social interaction - he can even stab me and i wont be injured by it; four, i can be your go-to guy for supernatural cases so you no longer have to deal with that sad trenchcoat man; five-
Red robin: *blurting* youre hired.
Batman: hn (i am deeply concerned)
Danny: if youre concerned now, wait until i tell you about the anti ecto control act
Nightwing, who showed up in the middle of the sales pitch: ive never seen anyone crack B's grunt language so quickly
Danny: grunt language? He's just using ghost speak - which will be covered by the liminality self care lessons
Robin, who arrived with batman: what is a liminal?
Danny: all of you, of course! Otherwise you wouldnt need to learn about it, obviously
Robin: and why would we trust you?
Danny: did i mention i have a pet ghost dog?
Robin: …you drive a hard bargain
Danny, fist pumping: yes! That's three!
Nightwing: four, you got me when you could understand B's grunting
Red Hood, arrived with nightwing: five, assuming you arent lying about the pit rage
Danny, hand to his chest: i would never!
Orphan: honesty. Earnest. New brother.
Oracle, over comms: six. The anti ecto acts are legit and im terrified for his safety, assuming he's phantom, who is the vigilante of amity park
Spoiler, arrived with orphan: seven, as long as youre down for a few pranks
Batman: hn (ive been outvoted)
Batman: hnn (i dont wanna hear any jokes about adoption habits when you all forced my hand)
Batman: hn (that said)
Batman: welcome to the family
Duke, the next day: man, i miss out on everything exciting.
Duke, blinded by danny: and who the fuck told bruce he could adopt the fucking sun?!
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roturo · 1 year ago
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ SHE'S BACK!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.
A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.
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It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.
He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.
“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”
Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.
“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.
“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”
“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”
“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”
Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 
Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.
You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 
That made you blush. 
Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.
“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’
Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.
Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 
When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”
His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.
“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”
“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 
He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.
“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.
“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.
A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.
“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.
His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.
His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 
“Shit. Can you walk?”
PART 2
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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 8 months ago
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where can i find this modern polin au with an every letter-inspired title???
here you go! https://archiveofourown.org/works/38728119
and if you don’t have ao3, i posted them here on tumblr too. i’ve tagged this post with the fic tag.
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confused-wanderer · 2 years ago
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It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.
Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.
The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.
No one fucks with Gothamites.
Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*
Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.
Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE
Or
Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*
Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*
Thief: .. what the actual fuck
Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D
Thief:
Dick: I’m from Gotham
Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones
OR
Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*
Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.
Shooter:
Dick:
Shooter:
Dick: .. Hi :)
Shooter: Are you Satan?
AND
In interrogation room
Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection
Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you
Murderer: .. what
Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-
Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you
Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.
Murderer:
Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.
Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.
But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.
Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.
Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven
Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.
Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?
Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!
Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?
Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.
Red Robin: Wait what did he do?
Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.
Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop
Red Hood: Well even I could do that-
Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.
Red robin *growing concerned*
Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!
Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.
*all nodding in agreement*
Red hood:
Red Robin:
Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick
Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.
*villains’ sobbing intensifies*
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