#barely any of them from tv shows

[robbyykeene]

why do you think the writers never bothered to develop the relationship between johnny and robby? and if they were never going to develop it, they could have at least kept robby and daniel's dynamic, but they dropped it like it was nothing

I think it’s for the same reason a lot of the big moments in this show are “resolved” off screen—they don’t know how to do it, and they don’t care enough to try. These guys constantly write themselves into corners and then can’t figure out how to write themselves out if it, so they pretend like the walls were just never there to begin with. It’s bad, lazy writing and I don’t say that lightly.

[gf2bellamy]

drunk — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer is drunk and is spilling things about your relationship content warnings: established relationship, drunk spencer, the team mocking them a/n: i've never had a sip of alcohol so if i made any mistake i'm very sorry honestly i just went of what i've seen in tv shows, movies and books

You sat nestled in the corner booth of the bar, sipping your soda. The ice clinked softly against the glass as you absentmindedly swirled the straw, half-listening to Garcia and Emily’s gossip.

Their conversation faded into the background, however, as your attention drifted elsewhere, specifically, to the two men across the room. Spencer, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, was talking at a rapid pace, gesturing wildly with his hands as Derek grinned at him, clearly entertained. Your brows furrowed as Derek slid another drink into Spencer’s hands. You sighed, not bothering to hide your disapproval. 

“What’s up with you?” Emily asked, her head tilting slightly as she sipped from her drink. 

“That.” You nodded toward the scene unfolding across the room. 

Emily followed your gaze just in time to see Spencer take another eager gulp of whatever Derek had handed him. A second later, Derek’s mouth dropped open before he burst into laughter, clapping Spencer on the back like a proud older brother. 

“Yeah… Morgan’s having way too much fun with drunk Spencer,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at them. 

Spencer, completely unaware of your scrutiny, continued rambling, his hands moving faster than his words. Meanwhile, Derek's smile just grew bigger and bigger.

Garcia snorted. “Oh, come on, it’s adorable.” 

You weren’t sure if you’d call it adorable. More like mildly concerning. Because if history had taught you anything, drunk Spencer Reid was unpredictable, and God help anyone who had to deal with him when the alcohol finally hit its peak. And from the looks of it, the moment was about to happen or based on Derek's grin , has happened already.

“What is he doing?” you mumbled, eyes narrowing as you watched the two of them. You had a bad feeling about this. 

Garcia glanced at you with a smirk. “Sweetheart, we are at a bar. That’s what people do. You know… drink?” She gestured pointedly at your own glass. 

You scoffed, lifting your soda in mock acknowledgment. “Yeah, well, some of us have to drive,” you muttered before taking another sip. 

Before Garcia could quip back, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Derek had turned toward you, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face.

Oh no. 

Your stomach dropped. “Oh god,” you muttered. 

Oblivious to what was happening around him, Spencer continued rambling, hands flailing dramatically. You watched, unamused, as Derek made his way over to you, his smirk growing wider with every step. Trailing beside him, Spencer was entirely oblivious. He barely paid attention to where he was walking, nearly stumbling into Derek at one point, but that didn’t stop him. 

When they finally reached your booth, Derek didn’t even bother with pleasantries. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on you, his grin downright devious. 

“You don’t say?” he mused, clearly continuing whatever conversation Spencer had been having, though it was obvious his real focus was on you.  Spencer finally seemed to register where he was, his hazy eyes flickering to you. He blinked, as if surprised to see you there. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice slightly softer than before. 

Before you could respond, he slid into the booth beside you, well, more like half on top of you. He scooted in so close that his thigh was practically draped over yours. 

You stared at him. “Hi.” 

He grinned, leaning in ever so slightly, the scent of alcohol and something distinctly Spencer clinging to him. His eyes, glassy but bright, studied your face with open admiration, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. His curls were a mess, strands falling over his face, making him look even more disheveled than usual. You reached up instinctively, tucking a stray lock behind his ear, but he barely seemed to notice. 

“Seems like you’re having fun,” you murmured, shifting your gaze to Derek, who was watching the interaction with barely contained amusement. 

Derek simply shrugged. “Guess so.” 

You turned back to Spencer, who was still staring at you, completely dazed, his hazel eyes glassy and unfocused, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. With a chuckle, Derek turned his attention to Garcia and Emily, leaving you to deal with your very drunk boyfriend. 

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you brushed more of his hair out of his face. 

Spencer hummed in response, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he blinked them open again. “Mhm.” 

You let your fingers linger in his curls, absentmindedly threading through them, and Spencer melted under your touch. 

“What were you telling Derek back there?” you asked, keeping your voice gentle, watching as his eyelids drooped slightly. 

He mumbled something incoherent before finally managing, “M’don’t remember.” 

Before you could press further, he sighed contently and let his head drop onto your shoulder, his body going slack against yours. Your hand was still tangled in his hair and you felt his breath fan against your neck as he let out another sleepy hum. 

Now Garcia and Emily were both staring at you, matching grins on their faces. You frowned. 

“What?” you asked warily. 

Emily’s smile widened. “Oh, nothing. It’s just… Spencer had a lot to say about you.” 

On cue, Spencer lifted his head from your shoulder at the sound of his name, his movements slow and a little clumsy. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. 

His brows furrowed in concentration, as if trying to grasp onto a fleeting thought. “I remember now,” he said, dragging out the words, squeezing his eyes shut like that might help jog his memory. “I think.” 

You waited, not sure if you wanted to hear whatever was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I told them… about how much you like touching my hair,” he finally said, his voice a little too loud, like he was completely unaware of the fact that everyone was now hanging onto his every word. 

Your mouth fell open. “What?” 

You whipped your head toward Emily, Garcia, and Derek, who were all watching you with knowing smirks, looking way too amused for your liking. 

“Oh, and I told them about how you—” he paused, blinking a few times, “—always trace patterns on my back when you think I’m asleep.” 

Your face burned. 

Spencer, oblivious to your horror, continued, his voice dreamy and soft. “And how you always steal my cardigans, even though you claim they drown you and make you look ridiculous. But I know you secretly love wearing them.”

Derek let out a full laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, this is gold.” 

Garcia sighed dramatically, clutching her chest. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Spencer, why—” 

He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered, though it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, given his current state—“And I told them that you—” 

You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else. Spencer blinked at you, wide-eyed, and you felt his lips curl into a grin against your palm. 

“Okay, Spence, I need you to stop talking now,” you said firmly, your hand still covering his mouth. 

Spencer blinked at you, his hazel eyes glassy with amusement. Slowly , hesitantly , you removed your hand, watching him like he was a ticking time bomb. 

Then you turned to your friends. 

“Don’t,” you warned, narrowing your eyes as Derek parted his lips, no doubt ready to deliver some smart remark. 

Derek smirked. “But—” 

“Don’t say anything,” you groaned, already exhausted, cutting him off with a pointed look. 

Emily took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, her expression entirely unreadable as she observed the chaos unfolding in front of her. Penelope, however, was a different story. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, placing a hand over her heart as she looked between you and Spencer like you were her new favorite romance novel come to life. “This is adorable. I mean, we knew you were soft for our resident genius, but this?” She gestured at Spencer, who was still pressed against you, his head once again finding its way to your shoulder. “This is next-level domesticity.” 

You sighed, “I am never letting him drink around you guys again.” 

Spencer hummed sleepily against your shoulder. “M’not even that drunk.” 

Derek let out a loud laugh. “Oh, you so are.” 

Spencer attempted to lift his head in protest but gave up halfway and settled deeper into your side. “M’just happy,” he mumbled, and if your heart didn’t squeeze at that, you’d be lying. 

Emily set down her drink, eyes glinting with mischief. “So, what else does our drunk genius have to say about you?” 

You shot her a glare. “Emily.” 

Spencer, on the other hand, perked up slightly, as if the question had unlocked another memory. 

“Oh!” he said suddenly, lifting his head, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. “I also told Derek about how you always fall asleep on my chest when we watch movies, even though you swear you never fall asleep during movies.” 

Derek actually clapped at that one. “Man, you are so whipped.” 

You buried your face in your hands as Garcia gasped dramatically, reaching for Emily’s arm like she might faint. “They’re so disgustingly cute! .” 

Spencer, now clearly on a roll, turned his dopey, love-struck gaze back to you. “And I told them—” 

You groaned. “Spencer!” 

He grinned, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Love you,” he mumbled sleepily. 

You patted Spencer’s thigh three times, a silent I love you, too, acting as if you weren't melting completely on the inside. You weren’t about to give your friends any more teasing material. 

“We’re going home,” you announced, realizing how sleepy Spencer was getting. 

Derek groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on. We wanna hear more.” His grin was absolutely wicked. 

At that, Spencer lifted his head slightly, as if he was about to continue his drunken confessions. You shot him a look, a playful but very clear don’t even think about it kind of look. “Spence.” 

His lips parted like he was going to argue, but instead, he let out a soft hum and dropped his head back onto your shoulder, completely surrendering. 

Derek laughed. "Man, he's totally wrapped around your finger."

You ignored him, instead rubbing soothing circles into Spencer’s back. His eyes fluttered closed, and he was half-asleep, his weight pressing into you completely. 

“One word about this at work,” you warned, shifting your gaze between the three of them, “and I’m never talking to you guys again.” 

Emily smirked over the rim of her glass. “Oh, sure. No words at work. Can’t promise about the PowerPoint presentation Garcia is definitely going to make, though.” 

Garcia gasped, scandalized. “Emily, you know me so well.” 

You groaned. “I hate all of you.” Derek chuckled, waving you off. “Nah, you love us.” 

Spencer hummed sleepily. “Mhm. Love them.” 

You sighed, adjusting him slightly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, Dr. Love-Confessions.” 

“Okay, come on,” you sighed, scooting Spencer out of the booth. He stood, well, wobbled, barely managing to keep himself upright. You steadied him with a hand on his arm as he instinctively laced his fingers through yours, clearly unwilling to let go. His drunken state had made him extra clingy, but you weren’t exactly complaining. 

Turning back to your friends, you gave them a pointed look. “I’ll see you all at work,” you said, voice laced with warning. “Where we’re only going to have professional conversations. Got it?” 

Emily smirked, raising her glass in mock agreement. “Oh, sure. Definitely professional.” 

Garcia let out a dramatic sigh. “No gossip whatsoever,” she said, not even trying to sound convincing. 

Derek just grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck with that.” 

Meanwhile, Spencer was barely paying attention to any of this. His eyes had glazed over, staring blankly into the distance as if lost in thought, or maybe just lost in general. You exhaled, already exhausted and thinking of calling in sick. 

“You,” you said, pointing a finger at Derek, “you get to pay for both our drinks.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, realization dawning on him. “Whoa, hold up—” 

“Nope,” you cut him off immediately, shaking your head. “Not happening. You let him get like this, you pay for it.” 

Derek let out a laugh, looking at Spencer, who was still in his own little world. “Man, I didn’t force him to drink.” 

You shrugged. “Don’t care. Enjoy the bill.” You tugged Spencer’s hand, leading him toward the exit. 

“Bye,” he mumbled sleepily, barely loud enough to be heard. His steps were slow, and his body felt heavier against yours.

You pushed open the door with your free hand, the cool night air rushing past you. Spencer let out a quiet sigh at the change in temperature, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. Without thinking, you started tracing slow, comforting circles with your thumb over his skin. 

Spencer hummed softly, leaning into you as you walked toward the car. “Feels nice,” he mumbled. 

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded lazily, his curls falling into his face again. “You always do that.” 

“I guess I do,” you smiled softly at your boyfriend, your heart warm as he squeezed your hand tighter. Spencer didn’t seem to notice how tightly he was holding onto you as you arrived next to your car. But when you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, he made a small noise of protest, a soft whimper that almost made you stop in your tracks. 

“Spence,” you said gently, “I need to look for my keys.” 

His hand reluctantly loosened, but his gaze never left you. You opened your bag, rummaging through the contents, your eyes scanning for the keys. 

“You usually keep them in your front pocket,” Spencer mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You froze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, right.” 

Without missing a beat, you reached into your front pocket, feeling the familiar jingle of your keys. “Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, as you unlocked the car. You quickly moved to open the passenger door, holding it wide. “Okay, come on. Sit down.” 

Spencer gave you a sleepy, lazy look but you gently tugged him towards the car, your touch soft yet insistent. His steps were slow, and as he started to get into the car, you reached up to guide his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the top of the doorframe. 

“Head down,” you instructed, your voice a little more authoritative than usual, though the affection in your tone made it clear you were only looking out for him.  Spencer let out a soft, obedient hum as he finally slumped into the passenger seat. His body collapsed back into the seat like a ragdoll, eyes heavy. 

“Good,” you said, closing the door behind him, watching as he settled into the seat, already half-asleep. As you slid into the driver's seat and closed the door behind you, you glanced over at Spencer. His head was resting against the seat, eyes shut, his expression soft and peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for disturbing his rest. 

“Do you want to go to your apartment?” you asked quietly, glancing at him as you started the car. 

Spencer’s voice was barely above a whisper when he replied, “I wanna stay with you.” 

You paused, looking at him, his face relaxed, eyes still closed as if he were half in a dream. Your fingers itched to reach out, and you gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. He hummed contentedly at the contact, leaning into your touch without even realizing it. You smiled softly, your heart melting at how utterly endearing he was. “Okay. We’ll go to my apartment, then.” 

You drove in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the soft hum of the engine and Spencer’s breathing. It wasn’t long before you arrived, and as you parked in your spot, you glanced over at him.

He hadn’t moved, still in the same sleepy position, his head leaning against the seat. 

“Spence,” you said gently, turning off the car. “We’re here.” All he did was hum in response, barely acknowledging you. 

You sighed softly, knowing this was going to take a little effort. Stepping out of the car, you closed your door quietly before making your way to the passenger side.  When you opened the door, Spencer was practically asleep, his head resting against the seat, lips slightly parted. He looked so peaceful, you almost felt bad for waking him. 

“Spence,” you muttered, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. He didn’t budge. 

You frowned, leaning in slightly, careful not to hit your head on the car frame, as you gave his shoulder a firmer shake. Still nothing. 

“Spencer,” you said a little louder, this time with a touch of amusement in your voice. Finally, he stirred, cracking one eye open lazily. 

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile, watching as he blinked sluggishly. 

He let out a slow breath, rubbing his face with one hand. “We’re here?” he mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” 

Spencer groaned lightly, shifting in his seat as if even the thought of moving was too much effort. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ll help you, but you have to stand up, Spence.” 

With a deep sigh, he finally nodded and let you pull him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and you immediately steadied him, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Whoa there, genius,” you murmured, adjusting your grip. “Let’s not face-plant in the parking lot.” 

Spencer huffed out a sleepy chuckle, leaning into you more than he probably realized. “You’re warm,” he muttered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded. “Yeah, well, let’s get you inside where it’s actually warm, okay?” 

“Okay,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as you guided him inside the building. He leaned into you slightly, his steps slow and heavy. As you waited in front of the elevator, you tapped your foot lightly against the tile, watching the numbers slowly descend.  Then, out of nowhere, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft but certain. 

“I like you a lot, you know that?” 

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden confession, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes made your heart melt. His gaze was a little unfocused, heavy with sleep and alcohol, but the emotion behind his words was crystal clear. 

“I know, Spence,” you said, smiling warmly as you reached up and brushed his curls away from his face again. It was something so simple, yet something you always found yourself doing. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his body seeking out your warmth. 

The elevator doors finally slid open with a ding, and you gently tugged his hand to lead him inside. As soon as the doors shut, Spencer sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, his body completely relaxed against yours. 

“You smell nice,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your jacket. 

You let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around him for support. “Thanks, Spence. You smell like alcohol and bad decisions.” 

He chuckled sleepily, barely lifting his head. “Bad decisions? No, no. Liking you is the best decision.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you just stared at him, warmth spreading through your chest. Even drunk and barely coherent, Spencer Reid somehow managed to be the sweetest person alive. 

The elevator doors opened, and you shook your head fondly, guiding him toward your apartment. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s get you to bed before you pass out in the hallway.” 

Spencer let out a hum of agreement, still clinging onto your hand like he never wanted to let go. 

You let go of him just long enough to unlock the door, pushing it open before guiding him inside. As soon as you shut it behind you, Spencer immediately reached for you again, clinging onto you like he had no intention of letting go. 

You sighed fondly, helping him shrug off his jacket while he clumsily toed off his shoes.

“Okay, Spencer, just a couple more steps,” you encouraged, wrapping an arm around his waist as you led him toward your bedroom. 

When you reached the bed, he sat down heavily, sighing as his body sunk into the mattress. His eyes scanned the room, though they were hazy with sleep. “I like your room,” he mumbled, as if just realizing where he was. You smiled softly, watching as he flopped back against the pillows, his head sinking into the plush fabric. 

“Me too,” you murmured, standing by the edge of the bed as you watched him. 

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but then, with a small, sleepy smile, he peeked up at you again. 

“You know… I think my favorite thing about your room is that you live in it,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion but filled with sincerity. Your heart swelled at the unexpected sweetness of his words. 

You shook your head with a soft laugh, brushing his curls out of his face once more. “You’re such a sap when you’re drunk, Spence.” 

His smile grew just a little. “M’not drunk,” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep. “Just in love.” 

You felt warmth spread through your chest as you pulled the blanket over him, watching as he relaxed further into the bed. 

“Go to sleep, Spencer,” you whispered, but the smile on your lips never faded. 

[charlotteking27]

Pursuing the Journalist

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Max makes his intentions clear, that he wants to pursue you, so much so that he's already planning your future with him.

Warning: This is part two of The pretty Interviewer.

The next morning in Monaco, the paddock buzzes with energy. You barely reach the Sky Sports tent before your producer rushes up to you, smiling like she just won the constructors’ championship.

“Don’t look now,” she says, “but there’s already a crowd outside. They want to see if Max will charm you on live TV again.”

You bury your face in your notes, trying not to blush. “He’s just playing with the media. He loves stirring things up.”

Your producer laughs. “Right, and I’m really Toto Wolff. You two broke the internet last night. Even the official F1 account is in on it.” She holds up her phone, showing you a meme: Max in his race suit, captioned, “Find someone who looks at you the way Max looks at the Sky Sports reporter.”

Suddenly, the crowd outside parts with excitement. Max appears at the paddock entrance, scanning the area until he spots you. Before anyone can react, he jogs over—helmet in hand, a big grin on his face.

Reporters and fans begin to murmur, cameras turning your way. Max doesn't care. He reaches you in an instant, taking your hand, warm and confident. The world seems to pause as he pulls you beside him, walking through the paddock together, fingers intertwined as if it’s perfectly normal.

Cheers and whistles follow you like confetti. Someone shouts, “Go on, Max!” He just squeezes your hand, glancing down with that charming, lovestruck smile that makes your heart skip.

“You didn’t think I’d let you handle this chaos alone, did you?” he whispers, just for you.

Your producer’s jaw drops. The Sky cameras are rolling. It’s Monaco, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is watching Max Verstappen stroll hand-in-hand with you to the biggest race of the year.

You’re still groaning when Max shows up, surprisingly relaxed for someone about to race in Monaco. He flashes you a grin that promises trouble—except this time, there’s a softness to it, one that doesn’t fade when the cameras are on.

“Ready for your exclusive?” he asks, keeping his eyes on yours, ignoring the crowd of reporters pretending not to listen.

You try to remain professional. “Max, you’re starting on pole for the Monaco Grand Prix. Any nerves?”

He leans in close enough for you to catch a hint of his cologne. His eyes linger on your face just a beat too long. “Only if you’re nervous. I think that’s the only thing that could throw me off today.”

Your producer, clearly done with professionalism, whispers in your ear, “He’s got it bad for you.”

You push on. “What’s the plan for turn one? It’s usually chaos.”

“Stay ahead, avoid chaos, and maybe—” he pauses, giving you a slow look that makes your cheeks flush, “convince you to have dinner with me again after I win. Monaco’s stunning, but you make it unforgettable.”

You choke, and Max’s grin spreads wider. He leans in, his voice dropping, “Honestly, I’d race here every weekend just for a chance to see you.”

“I’m trying to do my job,” you hiss, covering your mic.

He shrugs, completely unruffled. “So am I. Just… my job’s a lot more fun when you’re around.”

The interview becomes a blur—a mix of technical talk and playful flirting, with Max teasing hints about post-race plans and you doing your best to act like you haven’t already agreed to a late-night stroll by the harbor. When it ends, Max lingers as if he’s forgotten there’s a race to win.

“You know,” he says, lowering his voice, “I used to hate interviews. Now I look forward to them. You’re the only one who makes me nervous.”

Your stomach turns. “Because you enjoy being the center of attention?”

He shakes his head. “Because when you look at me, I feel like I’ve already won.”

Before you can say anything, he strides back toward the garage, leaving you flustered and the entire F1 Twitterverse moments away from a meltdown.

The race is pure Monaco: tight, intense, impossible to predict. Max leads from the start, but a late safety car changes everything. You watch, holding your breath, as he navigates through the turmoil, the world focused on him.

He wins. Of course he does.

As the Red Bull zooms past the checkered flag, Max’s radio crackles with his engineer's euphoric shouts. He barely catches his breath before grabbing the radio, his voice filled with adrenaline.

“Max, you legend! Monaco winner! That’s how you do it!” his race engineer exclaims.

Max’s laughter is full of disbelief, almost boyish. But then he shifts his tone, warmer and more thoughtful. He knows everyone is listening—his team, the fans, the world.

“This one’s for someone special,” he says, steady as can be. “I want to dedicate this win to the Sky Sports reporter who survived my flirting all weekend. You know who you are. Thanks for making Monaco unforgettable.”

The team erupts with cheers and laughter. The crowd, hearing the dedication over the loudspeakers, goes wild.

Max grins into the radio, barely hiding his mischief. “Honestly, the car’s quick, but not as quick as my heart every time you ask me questions.”

His engineer groans, half-laughing, “Max, mate, you’re killing us.”

Max just laughs, a bit smug. “What can I say? She’s my lucky charm. That dinner offer still stands, by the way. Monaco’s beautiful at night—almost as beautiful as her smile.”

The paddock buzzes with chatter. Social media is already going crazy.

When he finally walks into parc fermé, covered in champagne and smiling, he looks right at you. The world’s cameras may be on him, but he finds your eyes first.

Later, the post-race interview turns into a frenzy. Reporters jostle, microphones wave, but Max waits, arms crossed, until you stand in front of him. Everything else fades away.

“Congratulations, Max,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Thank you.” He gives you that look that has sparked countless tweets. He leans in close enough that only you—and possibly millions of viewers—can hear. “You know, if I’d known winning Monaco would get me this interview, I would’ve tried even harder.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You just won Monaco. Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your team?”

Max shrugs, still only focused on you. “I’d rather celebrate with you. Maybe you’ll finally say yes to that dinner. Or do I need to win another race?”

He leans in, whispering in your ear with that grin. “Careful, or I’ll have to dedicate every win to you. Might make the other drivers jealous.”

The cameras capture it all—your laughter, his easy smile, the way he leans in as if he’s about to share a secret. The clip is already being shared, meme’d, and picked apart by the time you both slip away from the paddock, hearts racing, the world watching.

By midnight, Monaco’s streets have quieted down. You and Max stroll along the harbor, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of the sea. This time, there are no cameras, no microphones—just two people trying to figure out what happens next.

He stops, gazing out at the yachts bobbing on the dark water. “You know, everyone’s going to have an opinion about this.”

You nudge his shoulder. “Since when do you care about everyone?”

He laughs, soft and genuine. “I don’t. I only care about you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s already leaning in, gentle and certain. For once, you forget about the world watching, the noise, the chaos, and the next race.

What began as just another paddock interview now feels like the start of something entirely new.

And you wouldn’t trade it for pole position—not even on a street circuit.

Taglist: @bowielovesyou and @lilypat

[luvyeni]

WHAT’S IS YOUR DESIRE ๑. ( 이희승 )

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ─── you’re so lonely , your parents pretend you don’t exist , no friends , you’re so desperate for love … heeseung can give you that if that’s what you truly desire…

( 対 ) lee heeseung + fem. reader wc. 4k genre smut · contains! vampire!heeseung , mentions of loneliness , oral ( f ) , biting , blood drinking , unprotected sex , mentions of murder mature content. / back to library

you were used to being alone; living in a small town , your parents often left for long periods of time to look for work in other churches; your dad was a pastor and your mother a housewife — not that it mattered , when they were here they hardly paid attention to you , and when they did it was often to comment on something you did wrong or to drill quotes from the bible into your head.

when your mother came into your room that afternoon you already knew what was coming. “your father has work in the town over.” you nodded. “i assume you’ll be going with him?” barely looking up from the computer that sat on your desk — your parents hated it , claimed ‘it was the work of the devil’ but they allowed it because it was needed for your studies in university. “of course you know your father has such a wandering eye, i have to keep and eye on the jezabels trying to seduce him.” you wanted to scoff , knowing that it was surely the other way around and your mom was too delusional to notice , but you didn’t do anything, you just nodded. “there’s food to last three days when we will be back , the robert’s are right down the road if you need anything.”

her hands were on your shoulders. “make sure to read your bible before bed , to keep the demons out while you sleep.” she said , you sighed. “i know mama.” she just nodded before exiting quietly. you closed the laptop , not like you could do much on it — your parents only allowed the wifi because of your studies , they turned it off when you were done with school , claiming you didn’t need it , they didn’t want the internet to “corrupt” you.

you stared out the window as you watched them get in their car , driving down the road — leaving you even more alone.

there was nothing to do except read; that’s all you were allowed to do , not like you had any friends , or a phone to keep up with those friends — you didn’t have a tv to watch the latest shows , all you had was those books , the books the library in the town allows you to take by the dozen because she knows you well — you don’t tell your parents about these book , they’d be deemed “books of the damned” by your dad. tales of dragons and witches — werewolves and vampires. especially vampires.

your father had an irrational fear of vampires; the people of the night is what he called them. you thought he was ridiculous they way he would constantly talk about them , how you should never let them in because once you welcome them in they steal your soul. he spoke like they were real , he had such a fearful look in your eyes — kinda made you smile seeing such a normally put together and fearless man shudder at the sight of a mythical creature.

so here you were laying across your stuffie filled bed , reading a book about a vampire ; it was a love story , a vampire falls in love with a girl human girl , but he can’t be with her because of her parents , so he turns her and they live happily together — without a few challenges , it’s cute and cliche. the rain outside started hours ago , the branches from the trees slapping against your window as the rain poured from the sky , you could hear the wind from outside , strong but calming — soothing … until you felt it , the overwhelming feeling of being watched.

you got up from your book; walking over to window , there was nothing — literally nothing , the robert’s house just down the road , but not close enough you could see anything , so all you saw was the sad and lonely darkness. sighing as you made your way back to your bed to get ready to sleep … but before you could sit down there was a knock on the door.

who could that be? it was almost 11 pm , it couldn’t have been the robert’s , they were a elderly couple and their only son was away in college — so who could be at your door at this time? you slowly made your way down the steps , jumping when thunder shook the house adding on to your fear as you made it to the front door. “he-hello.” you spoke through the door. “um hello - this is so embarrassing , but i need your help.” the voice spoke softly through the door — a males voice. “well im really not allowed to open the door for anyone.” you said. “well are your parents home? may i speak to them?”

“they aren’t here either.” good going now he’s gonna rob you now that he knows you’re alone. you shrieked as thunder rumbled once again. “i guess it’s fine.” it’s a small town , everyone knows everyone; so whoever it is must know your parents. you slowly unlocked all the locks , slowly opening the door , peaking your head out at the stranger. “can i help you?”

his hair was bright red , it was the first thing you noticed about the man — second thing you noticed about him was he was extremely attractive , his eyes were alluring as he stood before you , dripping wet from the rain. “my car broke down and i don’t have service , i was wondering if you had a phone i could use to call a service?” his voice deep , but soft. “oh well i don’t have a smart phone.” he didn’t seem shock much like anyone else would be when you gave them this news. “no? — but we do have a house phone.” you said , opening the door a little wider. “it’s pretty old but it’s the best i can do.”

the man before you smiled , it was a warm and welcoming smile ; this man didn’t look like he would harm you. “thank you so much , you’re very kind.” and maybe you were just lonely , the silence that filled your house along with the loneliness that clouded your heart , you just wanted to be in the presence of someone. “um excuse me miss.” he asked , you realized you both were standing at the door , instead he was standing out in the pouring rain. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry.” you said. “come in , you must be so cold from the rain.” you moved to the side letting him in. “thank you.” his body towered over yours as he walked into your quiet little lonely home.

“you have a nice home.” he said. “th-thank you, my mom decorated herself , she loves doing things like that.” you said , he nodded. “well she’s a good designer.” he turned to you. “you must be so cold , let me light a fire so you can get warm before you call someone to come help , follow me.” you guide him to the living room. “just a second.” he watched you intently as you bent down to the fire place , putting a bunch of firewood your father chopped himself into the fire place , lighting it. “there , now you can get warm.” you said. “the phone is right there.” you pointed to the small table. “can i offer you something to drink while you call? some tea? coffee , i may have some hot chocolate left.”

he chuckled as your spoke fast. “tea is fine , thank you — i haven’t gotten your name.” he said. “oh me?” “i’m yn.” he tilted his head to the side. “what a beautiful name.” your cheeks heated up. “im heeseung.” he introduced. “you-you have a nice name too.” you spat out quickly , he was almost too beautiful to look at for long. “i’ll leave you to make your call.” you quickly shuffled away , to the kitchen.

“don’t be so embarrassing , you’ve seen men before.” you spoke to yourself while you waited for the water the heat. “of course not men as beautiful as him but you know what father would say , control your lust or spend eternity in hell.” you repeat to yourself as you continue to make the tea , unaware of heeseungs presence behind you , just watching you. “do you like sug- oh!” you jumped realizing he was standing right behind you. “did i scare you?” you hissed feeling some of the hot water spill on your hand. “did you hurt yourself?” he grabbed your hand , it was a bit red. “i-i’m okay.” your body began to heat up , but his hands were crazily cold. “but are you? you’re so cold.” he stepped back a bit. “let’s get you back to the fireplace.”

you sat the drink down , along with some of your mothers cookies that she spent all day baking. “enjoy.” you sat down on the couch beside him. “did you get in touch with someone?” he sat the cup down. “i couldn’t a signal , i guess the storm , guess i’ll have to wait in my car until morning when the storm is supposed to pass.” he said , you felt bad for him. “we-well where are you going?” you asked, taking a bite of the cookie. “well i was heading home , but as i was driving my car broke down and then my phone died , your house was the closest.” he frowned. “my brothers must be so worried , we only have each other so we’re really over protective .”

he had people that cared about him; you couldn’t help but be jealous — soon that was replaced with sympathy , he couldn’t sleep out in his car , he’d freeze to death. “my parents won’t be home for another three days.” you said , he was looking you right in the eyes. “an-and i would feel terrible knowing i let you sleep in a cold car alone in the storm , god would never turn someone away.” his eye brow furrowed but you didn’t notice it. “i guess you can stay the night , in the living room though.” you said. “just until the morning , maybe the phone will be working and then we can call someone and you can call your brothers to check in so they won’t be too worried.”

“really?” he said. “i don’t really want to bother you, you’ve already been so sweet to me.” you lowered your head with a shy smile at the praise. “it’s the least i can do.” you said. “maybe i’ll get some good karma.” you finished up the cookie you were nursing. “thank you.” he said. “maybe i can find you something to wear and you can wash up , i’m an only child and my father is not as buff and tall as you , so it might be hard.” you said , he smirked. “anything you give me is fine , your kindness has already stretched farther than anyone would ever go.”

while he showered , you sifted through everything trying to find him something to wear; also gathering a bunch of pillows and blankets for him to sleep on. you were able to find a pair of pajama pants that were too big for father , your mother was supposed to hem them but now it’s one less project off her hand — maybe she’ll spend time with you now. you laughed bitterly to yourself as laid the pillows and blankets out. you took the clothes in your hand , making your way to the bathroom.

you were about to knock on the door ; when it opened up, the boy stood there , a towel around his waist. “oh.” your eyes widened , but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. “i-i w-was coming to bring you some clothes , i put your other ones in the dryer.” you held your hand out. “it’s th-the best i could do i’m sorry.” you didn’t know why you were apologizing and you couldn’t help it. “it’s fine.” you finally looked up , he was staring down at you with a soft smile. “he-here.” he took it from your hands , his fingertips touching yours … still cold. “something wrong?” he asked , you shook your head. “well it’s just your ha-” your eyes landed on something behind him , the mirror. “that’s so weird your reflec— oh you have something right here.” his fingers found your chin , moving your head to look at him; you felt a shiver run down your spine. “you’re really beautiful you know that.” he said , your breath hitched. “o-oh th-thank you so much.”

you turn to quickly walk to your room , your body was hot. “pull yourself together yn.” you said to yourself. “just because you’re a virgin doesn’t mean you have to act like one.” you scold yourself , hearing a chuckle behind you , making you jump. “that’s cute.” heeseung said. “wh-what?” you said. “you’re trying to calm yourself down , even though i can hear your heart beating , it’s pounding out of your chest right now.” he picked up a picture of your family. “what a nice family.” he starts , and you slowly start to feel the fear creeping in your stomach , like you’ve might’ve made a mistake letting this man in. “th-thank you.”

his eye brow lifted in amusement. “you must really love your family.” he said. “so many pictures of them in your room.” he said. “i-i do.” hopefully you’d get to see them again. “that’s funny because if you look out in the front you wouldn’t believe they have a daughter , there’s no pictures of you out there.” that was true , your parents often said you were a accident , they were supposed to have children until later in life , wanting to spend time together without children — but you came and they had to give that up , your dad committed to the church ( and other women ) and your mother her “wifely duties”.

though they never specifically said that you were a mistake , they didn’t show any signs of that not being true. “my parents don’t really like me.” you frowned. “i ruined their life.” you chuckled , but heeseung could see the sadness in your eyes. “what about your other family?” he said. “i don’t have any, my parents cut them off because they weren’t “in tune with god like we are” , whatever that means.” here you were spilling your guts to this stranger who was standing in your room in only a towel — you still weren’t sure he didn’t want to kill you. “i wish i had a family , maybe like you and your brothers , at least they care enough to be worried.”

your bottom lip quivered a bit , you didn’t hear him walking over to you , until you felt his cold hand touch your skin , lifting your head. “is that what you wish?” he asked. “is that what you desire?” you finally look the man in the eyes — and what you saw frightened you; his eyes red , like his hair. “i can give you that.” fear flooded your body , your brain was screaming for you to run , but you couldn't, you were too scared ; until your brain finally got in contact with your feet and you basically pushed past him , trying to run out the room. “yn!” he grabbed your wrist. “i’m not gonna — let me go!” you screamed. “i’m not gonna harm you.” he said. “i swear.”

“wh-what are you? wh-what do you want?” you stuttered still fighting , trying to free yourself from his grip. “you know what i am.” he smiled. “you let me in.” then it hit you , the reflection , the cold hands — the red eyes … he was a vampire. “bu-but you aren’t supposed to be real. he chuckled. “i’m pretty sure i am real , i am holding you right now.”

“pl-please don’t hurt me.” you stuttered , he frowned. “i told you i didn’t want to hurt you.” he said. “we-well what do you want?” you stuttered. “whatever it is that you desire.” he said. “you desire family , you’re lonely.” he said. “i’ve been watching you for a while , you spend most of the time in the library , you stroll this boring small town all alone , no friends , no access to the world.” he said. “i can give you that , family… a love that last eternity.” he finally let your hands go. “please don’t run.”

you stood in silence for a second , his eyes were trained on you in case you tried to run. “my-my family — your family that ignores you , leaves you here to waste your youth.” his eyes looked towards your bed , where the book you were reading sat still open , he smirked. “what happens when they die? you spend your days in this house , no one else to spend it with until you pass on as well?” he was now backing you against the wall. “that’s no way for a girl like you to live , you deserve a life of happiness.” he said. “i can give you that.”

“wh-why me?” you asked. “why were you watching me?” he breathed in your scent , closing his eyes ; opening them , they were bright red again. “because you made it so easy for me.” he said. “you let me in.” there was nowhere for you to go , he trapped you against him and the wall. “you let me in because you crave me.” he whispered in your ear. “you crave to be loved , for someone to show you attention.” his nose brushed against your neck; you whimpered , biting your lip. “to be touched.” his hands found your waist. “tell me i’m wrong.”

you couldn’t , because he was right. “listen to your body.” he said. “is it gonna hurt?” you asked , his eyes darkened. “in the best way possible.” you felt his lips on your neck , you gasped , this was a new feeling. “you smell so good.” he licked your neck. “fu-fuck you taste good too.” he groaned , your legs were about to give up. “don’t fall on me now love.” he smiled. “let’s go lay down.”

he guided you to your bed , laying you down , climbing on to the bed; picking up the book with a smirk. “this book is full of false facts,” he said , tossing it ; it fell to the floor with a thud. “don’t read things like that.” his hands were on the side of your head. “i’ll teach you everything.” he went back to kissing your neck. “hee-heeseung.” your body twitched involuntarily. “teach you to hunt , to feed.” kissing down your chest and stomach , pushing your legs open. “to fuck.” kissing in between your thighs. “you’re so soaked.” he inhaled your scent as he pulled your shorts down along with your panties. “fuck you smell so good, so tiny.” you felt a little sting ; he'd just cut you. “ow.” he kissed the cut , blood getting on his lips , which he licked off, looking you in the eyes. “does that taste good?”

“so fucking good.” his voice was much deeper , full of hunger. “but i bet this pussy tastes even better.” his words were so crude , but you didn’t even get a chance to register it before he was licking your folds. “ah!” you moaned out as he ate you out. “heeseung , oh my god.” gasping out trying to sit up , but he pushed you down by your stomach. “be still princess , let me eat your pretty pussy.” sucking on your clit , your hips move upwards. “it-it feels like—” you felt his finger at your entrance. “so tiny , you can barely take my finger.”

“you’re about to cum.” his fingers ghosted your neck. “you wanna feel true ecstasy?” you nodded , he smirked. “good girl.” his fingers pierced your skin , you let out a scream , just as he curled his fingers inside you , triggering your orgasm , it was so overwhelming. “fuck.” he groaned , licking at your neck , feeding on your neck. “heeseung!” the metallic smell flooded your nostrils , his fingers still stringing against your clit — then you felt it , the venom entering your bloodstream , your body felt like it was moving in slow motion. “heeseung.” he pulled away , his fangs were fully on display , teeth and mouth dripping with blood.

heeseung could feel your blood coursing through his veins , you gave him a fill no other human gave him – he’d never find anything as close to this. “look at me.” he grabbed your face. “drink this.” bringing his forearm to his mouth , biting down on it. “open pretty.” opening your mouth , allowing his blood to drink into your mouth. “that’s it good girl , drink it.” he bit down on his lip , this was turning him on. “yeah- fuck.” his cock twitching against the towel , he was so quick to rip it off , letting his cock free; he was big , and thick. “gonna mold you into my perfect slut.”

you stared at the cross hanging in front of your bed as you felt him enter you. “he can’t help you anymore.” he whispered in your ear. “you’ve given yourself to me already.” he started moving. “heeseung.” you moaned. “and i don’t plan on ever letting you go.” if felt like you were on cloud nine , you faint taste of blood in your mouth , heeseung still lapping at the blood on your neck as he pounded into you. “fu-fucking mine.” he growled. “you gave me everything.” the bed was moving , your headboard slamming against the walls. “your mind.” *thrust* “your body” *thrust* “your soul.”

he began to thrust harder , bringing his forearm back to your mouth allowing you to take more of his blood , you clenched around him. “that’s fuck- fucking it -ngh- so tiny.” he grunted. “you’ll never need man to fill you up like this , gonna keep this pussy stuffed with my cock.” you stole his blood from him , but this just egged him on. “fuck i’m gonna cum.” bringing his thumb to your clit. “want you to cum with me , was cum inside your pussy.” he growled. “cum for me.”

your body starts to convulse, legs shaking; screaming. “that’s it cum all over my -ngh- my cock , fuck i’m gonna cum.” he held your hips stilled as he pushed his cock as deep as he could , shooting his load into your cunt. “ah shit!” he threw his head back. “heeseung.” you sighed , the room felt like it was spinning. “it’s okay , you’re gonna sleep for a while.” he said. “don’t be scared okay , i’ll be here when you wake up , you’ll be okay.” he kissed the side of your temples before you drifted off the sleep.

there was a bang on the door as he was dressing himself , he sighed picking up your now dressed body, sleeping body , making his way down in the front door opening it. “could you have knocked any fucking louder.” sunghoon looked down at your sleeping body back at him. “sorry i didn’t want to sit in the fucking car anymore while you turn the girl you’ve stalked for the past 2 months.” he said. “you ready , jay is blowing my phone up like crazy.”

“yeah , let’s go , the sun will be up soon.” heeseung said. “and she’ll be out for at least a few days.” he walked out closing the door behind him. “and what about her parents , are we just gonna leave them here wondering about their daughter?” heeseung put you in the back seat , before climbing in the drivers seat. “in two days we’re set to leave for a new town , they’ll just be getting home.” he said driving off. “we’ll stop by here , pick up a few things she’d might want to keep.”

“and then what?” sunghoon said. “we kill them , send ni-ki and jungwon in there.” he said. “you never said anything about killing them , let alone letting ni-ki and jungwon in there , they go over board and we don’t need that following us. heeseung turned to his friend while a smirk. “burn the house down then , these people are so stupid they’ll believe the bodies burned solely because of the fire , they won’t even look for anything else , and if they do , they’ll think it was a animal.” sunghoon shook his head. “you’re crazy.” he laughed. “they’ll probably think it was the damn devil or something.” they both laughed , heeseung looking in the mirror at your sleeping figure. “maybe we should let her in and do it , she’ll be too hungry to even realize who they are anyway.”

“jesus dude these townspeople aren’t too far off about the devil thing.”

yea , maybe ….

©️LUVYENI

[rawjutsu]

chapter one.

pairing: snow leopard hybrid!gojo x bunny hybrid!femreader

keep up here

you’re settling into the apartment, realizing just how hard this is going to be. everything smells like him—warm, musky, deep—and it takes a couple rounds of chlorine, vinegar, and scent-neutralizing sprays to finally scrub out the worst of it from your bedroom at least.

satoru—whose name you learned when he gripped your hand like he was shaking hands with a bunny plushie and not an actual person—watched from the doorway with a smirk.

"it’s a small place. bet it’ll reek of me again by the end of the week."

you glare at him weakly. there’s not much you can say. without this apartment, you'd be homeless. plus… he doesn’t seem that bad. most predator hybrids would’ve made fifty sleazy comments by now. satoru hasn’t.

whether that means he’s respectful or just hiding the sleazy, you're not sure yet.

that doesn’t mean your guard’s down. far from it. every time he’s near, he’s just a little too loud, a little too fangy with his smiles, a little too comfortable standing too close.

he frightens you. but maybe that’s just your body doing what prey bodies are built to do: recognize danger.

he offers you dinner when he cooks. granted, it’s always aggressively meaty—the kind of protein-heavy meals that make your molars hurt just smelling them. you remember the look he gave you when you passed on eggs and bacon in favor of a celery stick and hummus.

"that’s why you’re so tiny, lil bun. you don’t eat any protein," he says, smirking as he crosses his arms. "good thing i’m strong enough for the both of us. i’ll fend off any bad guys."

ironic, coming from him.

it’s been a week now. your family bet you’d come crawling back to the farm in two days. joke’s on them. you’ve got a job—minimum wage hostess gig at a sushi place with sticky floors —and a basic understanding of the city’s train lines. so far, you're winning.

you’re curled up on the couch now, still in your work clothes, a scent-blocker gum tucked into your cheek. the shitty tv is playing a rerun of some equally shitty dating show, and you're letting your brain rot happily.

the door slams open.

"maaaan, it’s hot!" gojo groans, already kicking off his sneakers.

you nod at him, slow. "it is a little warm."

standard tokyo summer heatwave. your hair stuck to your forehead on the walk home, even with a chilled melon soda can pressed against your neck.

gojo messes with the wall unit, setting it to barely-above-freezing. he plants himself in front of the vent, sighing as the cold air blasts his face. his snowy hair flutters. his spotted tail sways lazily.

you sigh too, thankful when the cool air hits you.

"by the way," he says, pulling something out of a plastic bag. "got us a calendar. for, y’know. tracking stuff."

it’s a digimon-themed calendar. hideous. bright. kind of cute.

"tracking what?" you ask, tilting your head. your ears twitch slightly.

he gives you a look. the kind that says c’mon now. then he grins, sharp and wicked.

"heats and ruts, obviously."

your body locks up like a rabbit under a hawk’s shadow. the remote in your hand slips between your fingers and clatters on the couch.

oh. shit. you completely forgot about that.

in all the chaos of city life and moving in with a stranger—a goddamn leopard—you forgot to plan for your heat cycle.

back when you thought shoko (neutral hybrid, unbothered) was gonna be your roommate, you’d done research, figured it was safe, thought maybe you could ride it out alone. but now? now you were going to be in a confined space, with him.

gojo’s still grinning. "don’t tell me you forgot about that, bunnygirl. unless…" his voice drops. his pupils dilate. "you wanted to go through them together."

you hurl a pillow at his face. he catches it with one hand, laughing.

"no, i did not!"

"relax, relax," he says, tossing it back beside you. "i’m joking. sort of. anyway, just give me a heads up when it’s coming and i’ll crash at nanamin’s."

you roll your eyes, you doubt your neighbor would be pleased with that idea.

"you don’t have to. this is your place."

he shrugs. "you pay rent, this place is yours too. and no offense, but i doubt you want me anywhere near you when you’re all soft and squirmy and smelling like—"

you shoot a glare his way that makes him shut up.

then you nod slowly. that… makes sense. you chew your lip and glance toward the calendar.

"okay. thanks. i’ll look at it in a bit."

there’s a pause. the sound of the tv fills the room.

then, slowly, you realize he’s still staring at you.

"what?"

he raises a brow, smirking. "well, we figured out what you’re doing for your heat, but what about me, huh? you think nanami wants to babysit a snow leopard that’s trying to fuck his couch?"

you bristle. "i’ve been around ruts before."

"yeahhh," he drawls, eyes half-lidded. "pretty sure rodent ruts don’t hit the same as mine. i get a little… intense."

you scoff. your fingers tremble around the tv remote.

"okay. then i’ll leave."

“yeah? where?”

you pause. crap. where?

he smirks. "exactly."

"pff, nah. we’ll figure it out. mine just passed, anyway. right before you moved in."

"is that why it stank so bad in here?" you say, not thinking.

he doesn’t answer.

you turn to look at him—and find his eyes locked on your chest. your nipples are hard, pressing against your thin tee from the cold.

your face burns.

you cross your arms. "you made it too cold in here, creep."

he hums a laugh and stands, stretching his arms behind his head. his muscles ripple, and it’s so annoying how effortlessly good-looking he is.

"get used to it, bunny. i love the cold."

he wanders into the kitchen.

you try to focus on the tv, but the image creeps in anyway—his face, twisted by his rut, eyes wild, claws flexing. the thought of what his version of a rut would look like crawls down your spine like ice.

you press the gum deeper into your cheek.

this is not going to be easy.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

taglist: @satorupied, @mashtura, @auucz, @littlemissfix-itfic, @luv3nti, @sukunawhores, @nx-0w, @rh-tg1, @sugacor3, @victoria1676, @arabellasolstice, @qardasngan

[littlelamy]

the tv was blaring some stupid fight from summer house again, but rafe barely even glanced at it, just lounging deeper into the couch, one hand lazily rolling a pink lollipop over his tongue.

you were curled up next to him, knees bent, wearing the tiniest sleep shorts you owned—not that they stayed on for long. without even a warning, rafe just hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged them down, like it was no big deal.

"what are you doing," you laughed, already kicking a little at him, but it was playful, no real fight in it. you were giggling too much, already buzzing from how casual he made it feel, like he’d done this a hundred times before.

"just tryna make the show more interesting," he said around the stick of the lollipop, words muffled, all cocky and amused.

before you could wriggle away, he popped the candy out of his mouth, glossy with spit, and without a second thought, dragged it between your thighs, running it right over your folds, sticky and cold.

you squealed, slapped at his arm, squirming, giggling so hard you could barely breathe. "rafe! that's—that’s so gross!"

he just laughed, the lollipop already sliding between your lips, just nudging inside you, making you jolt and kick at him again, breathless with half-hearted protests that didn’t even sound convincing.

then he pulled it back, gave it a lazy little twirl, and popped it right back into his mouth, sucking it slow, his eyes half-lidded and smug as hell.

"mmm," he said around the stick, grinning sideways at you. "better than the candy store."

you were practically crying from laughing, hiding your face in your hands, thighs clamping shut instinctively like that would stop him. but it didn’t. he just reached over, pried one of your knees apart with a casual nudge, and slid the lollipop back again, teasing, lazy little taps against your clit that had you gasping and squealing all over again.

"you're such an asshole," you giggled, trying and failing to sound mad. it came out all breathy and high-pitched, especially when he pulled the lollipop free again and sucked it like he had all the time in the world, humming in fake contemplation like he was taste-testing you.

"nah," he said, voice all lazy and amused, "i think i’m a fuckin’ genius."

the fight on tv got louder—someone throwing a drink—but neither of you even payed any attention to it. it was all laughter and squirming and the wet little noises of rafe casually dragging the candy over you, tasting you every few minutes like it was just something normal.

he didn’t even look that worked up about it. he was just smirking, stretched out like a king on the couch, lollipop tucked back in his cheek, his free hand lazily draped across your bare thigh.

"you’re so giggly," he teased, tapping your hip with the back of his fingers, "all over a little candy."

you laughed harder, totally helpless against him, cheeks hot, stomach aching from how much you were grinning.

and he just kept going, dipping the sucker between your folds and back to his mouth, like he had nowhere to be.

ᡴꪫ tags below

taglist𑄽𑄺: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafedaddy01 @rafesangelita @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @bevstofu @wintercrows @st8rkey

[ravenslvt]

hii can i please request bucky coming back home after a long mission and him and reader are just enjoying each other? thank you!

☆bf!bucky barnes x f!reader fluff and smut!☆

☆ bucky comes back after a three week mission, and all he wants is you.

content: super short! mainly fluff and some smut at the end!! kissing, fluff, bucky in love, bucky eats pussy, fingering, grinding, both of them are pent up, bucky loves his girlfriend.

a/n: wasn’t sure if you wanted fluff or smut so i did both! first time writing in a year sorry if i’m a little rusty.

masterlist

its only been three weeks since bucky left for his mission with sam. yet you felt like its been years.

you two spoke on the phone a few times, he spends any free time he has talking to you. all you know is that it's important and probably very dangerous.

you lay on your soft couch in your apartment, watching a random show you had been binging. the ambient lighting setting a more comfortable tone over the room.

your eyes can barely stay open, letting them close for a few seconds before forcing them back open, trying your hardest not to fall asleep. it was late, almost 1am, but you were determined to finish this episode before falling asleep.

suddenly, your phone lights up from beside you, forcing you to snap out of your trance on the show.

you reach to flip the screen, but before you could even pick it up there was a familiar knock at your door. you perk up from your comfortable spot on the couch, pausing the show and quickly walking over to the front door.

you open the door, and there he stood. his hair a little bit longer than when he had left. in his black compression shirt and black tactical pants. he came straight from the plane.

bucky stands in the hallway, a weary expression on his face. he offers a small smile as you open the door, bags under his eyes, looking exhausted.

for a moment, he stands there, simply taking you in. he didn't realise how much he missed you until this very moment.

“hey.” he lights up seeing your suprised expression.

“hi” you respond, not wanting to waste another second apart.

you both smile, he immediately wraps his arms around you, bringing you into a crushing hug as he closes the door behind you guys.

he nuzzles his head into your neck, breathing you in. “missed you.”

your arms quickly find placement around his shoulders. he notices the fact that you’re wearing a pair of his boxers and his t shirt that magically went missing a few months into your relationship.

as you wrap yourself around him, you notice he still smells the same, the second you reckognize his familiar scent, your eyes shut. the warmth of his arms embracing you making you greatful for having a boyfriend in the winter.

you pull back and he brings his hand up to cup your face, his thumb gently running over your cheek.

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he leans in and kisses you. you’d never get bored of the way his lips felt against yours, even after over two years of being together.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to him. you smile into the kiss. “i can tell” you giggle.

he looks around at the familiar setting of your apartment. looking to the living room and taking notice of the paused tv show and snacks on the coffee table.

“you were just soo bored without me, huh?” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.

“no…” you playfully slap his real arm, noticing the way he slightly winces as if he was in pain.

“bucky…” you look up at him.

“yes…” he responds, avoiding eye contact.

“did you not go to medical after the mission?” you ask, feeling his arm.

“i-no” he lowers his head in defeat. you groan.

“i told you to stop doing that after last time you showed up borderline bleeding out, buck!” you immediately start inspecting him, making sure there’s nothing else wrong.

“i know, but i promise i’m okay.” he assures you, gently holding onto your hands and kissing your cheek. you held back a giggle at the tickle of his beard against your skin.

“i couldn’t wait to see you, medics would have taken over an hour to check me out-“

“you couldn’t wait an hour?” you ask, seriously. “what if there was something wrong?” you frown.

he shakes his head, his blue eyes searching your own.

“no, baby, i couldn’t.”

you weren’t really mad at him, you were just worried, rightfully so.

you lift yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him again, your hands moving to behind his neck as he grasps your waist.

he gratefully accepts the kiss, your lips moving at a perfect pace. just when he pulled you flush against him, his grip tightening on your waist, you pulled away from him. both of you heavily breathing from the make out sesh.

“but you have to at least let me see your injuries. no arguing.” you turn around to walk to the bathroom, him groaning as he follows behind you like a lost puppy.

he knows not to say no to you at this point in your relationship.

you flip up the switch to the obnoxiously bright light of your bathroom, bucky sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“take your shirt off.” you tell him, hiding a smile. you lightly tug on his shirt that fit his form way too well. he smiles back.

“whatever you say, beautiful.” he grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it off over his head.

your eyes are immediately drawn to the decent sized cut on his arm, and the gnarly bruise on his rib. you frown, finger hovering over the bruise.

“buck…”

“it doesn’t hurt.” he grabs your hand that hovered over his rib, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.

you look at him, unsure. he notices.

“i promise.” he reassures you.

you lean down, giving him a peck on his cheek.

“okay, you’re letting me clean the cut at least. i don’t want anymore blood on my carpet, please.” you fake pout, reaching under the bathroom sink for the bandages and anti bacterial spray.

“i apologized. purposely for that.” bucky says, watching you bend over to grab the supplies, eyeing you as you walk back over to him.

“that you did.” you giggle, spraying his cut with the aid spray, thankfully it was the one that didn’t burn. not like it would have hurt him anyways.

you take a second to stare at your hot super soldier boyfriend's arms for a moment.

not a second went by when he was gone that you didn't miss them.

and him too of course.

“and i made it up to you, remember?” he smirks, giving you a knowing look. you roll your eyes, ignoring his comment. he speaks again.

“you came four times that ni-“

“okay all done here!” you cut him off, taking the sticky part off of the large bandage, carefully but quickly placing it over his wound, thankful it wasn’t bleeding.

he chuckles at how shy you get when talking about sex, you were so cute.

“c’mere.” he whispers, standing up. you oblige, wrapping your arms lazily around his neck. his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips to your neck.

you watch his hungry stare, not missing the way you feel yourself getting more turned on by the second. the tired and rugged look on bucky making him somehow seem even more attractive.

your boyfriend was practically obsessed with you. his pure admiration and devotion to you almost shine through his eyes whenever he looks at you.

“bucky…” you practically whine. his eyes snap back to yours.

“yeah, baby?

“kiss m-“ before you could even finish your words, his lips were on yours. you missed being this close to him, but you both needed more.

his hands go lower on your back, pulling you against him so he could feel more of you. you gasp into his mouth when he unconsciously grinds against you.

“bed.” you say in between kisses. he smirks, picking you up bridal style with complete ease and walking to your bedroom. “you’re bossy today.” he jokes.

“i just missed you.” you say as he gently places you down at the edge of your mattress, legs spread as he stands between them.

he gives you another kiss.

“lay back, gorgeous.” he commands, you scoot back and do as he says, watching his shirtless form as he crawls up to you. you do the favor of taking your (well, his) own shirt off, leaving your upper half exposed.

you are about to complain to him to take off his pants, but before you can protest, his mouth is on yours again. the both of you having had no form of relief for almost a month making you both more needy and impatient.

he grinds himself against your clothed clit, the thin fabric of (his) boxers you were wearing making the feeling of his clothed erection even more intense.

you lightly moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hips continuously rocking into yours, feeling yourself getting more wet.

“bucky, need it.” you whine, not wanting to wait any longer. he shakes his head.

“not yet, baby. it’s been weeks, i gotta prep you.” he gives you another kiss before moving his path downward. down your neck, sucking small marks. down your now bare chest, not forgetting to give your breasts attention before moving down to your naval.

“you look good in these.” bucky compliments, two fingers tapping on your clothed clit, making you hiss. “bucky!” you pout.

he doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want, leaning his head down and sucking your clit through the boxers, making you moan and buck up into the feeling.

one of your own hands squeezes your breast as the other is combed in his hair, the feeling of him tasting you and drenching the fabric between you two making your head spin.

finally, he taps your hips, you lift them up as he quickly takes the shorts off your body. before you can even look down you feel his tounge directly on your soaking pussy.

it had been so long since you felt his touch, the scruff of his facial hair tickling your inner thighs as he eats you out. he goes from sucking your clit to licking your entire pussy, wanting to feel every single part of you.

you writhe around, trying to hold back your moans as his grip on your body tightens. he takes his hand and inserts one of his metal fingers into your needy hole, making you gasp.

“fuck!” you cry out as he hammers his finger into you, already being overwhelmed from all the stimulation.

bucky soon adding a second finger, making you lose control, grinding yourself into him. the contrast of his cold fingers in your warm cunt felt even better. still eating you out like a mad man as he does all of this.

he loves watching you like this. the love of his life feeling so fucking good, all because of him.

you squirm as a familiar feeling starts to rise in your lower stomach.

“bucky-ah! don’t stop!” you cry as your first orgasm quickly approaches. he doesn’t stop his actions, watching as you desperately whine out for release.

“m’gonna cum, baby.” you grab onto his arm, squeezing as you buck into his mouth, his fingers slamming in and out of your weeping cunt as you cum all over his hand, using your free hand to (poorly) cover your mouth from all the moans.

you’ve already had one complaint from the neighbors, not like bucky cared.

you shake from your long awaited orgasm, whining as you try to push bucky’s head from your cunt. with one last kiss to your pussy, he pulls away, sitting up on his knees to look at your disheveled form.

suddenly, the tiredness from before along with a combination of lack of sleep and the insane orgasm from your boyfriend hits you all at once. you close your eyes for a few seconds, recollecting yourself.

you lazily hold your arms up to him, wanting to be held. he smiles, immediately laying on his side to hold you.

this is your favorite part of being intimate with bucky, the way you hold eachother after.

he stares at you as you bring your thumb up to trace his jawline, making your way to run your fingers through the back of his dark hair.

he leans in and kisses your forehead, which is what he usually does right before you two fall asleep.

“i thought you wanted to-“

“no, no, we don’t have to. it’s 1am and i know you’re tired, baby.” he assures.

you frown.

“but-“

“we’ll save it for tomorrow, trust me.” he leans in to capture your lips in yet another kiss, this one softest.

you smile, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“water?” he asks, about to get out of bed until you stop him.

“no, just stay with me, please.” you don’t even bother opening your eyes, just grabbing onto his arm.

he chuckles, grabbing the blanket from the end of the bed and wrapping it comfortably over the both of you. he sighs as he finally settles into your bed, kissing your forhead once more, arms wrapped comfortably around your figure.

he whispers your name. you peak open your eyes to look at bucky. it’s like he gets even more attractive the more you look at him.

the sound of his voice making your heart squeeze and your stomach all warm.

“i love you.”

you tuck yourself even closer into him, kissing his jaw.

“i love you too, buck.”

a/n: this is my first time writing in like a year LMAO i’m a little rusty but i love getting requests because it helps me feel more inspired!! thank you for reading my first writing in a long time. :) i feel like i wrote this one a little plainer than i usually do, but hey i missed writing!

[kenyummy]

✰ 04. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 04. fantastic four.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: had to wrack my brain to remember what math i was learning in seventh grade LMAO . sometimes i forget damian is just a little guy in like seventh to eighth grade. crazy. and please let me know if there's any mistakes with pronouns/gender!!! i want to keep this open to everybody so im always trying my best ❤️

also ive realised how chopped harry is in the comics after taking my rose coloured lenses off. basically he and mj have their look in the ultimate spiderman TV show (in my eyes anyway, i kind of just described their appearance based off tgat lmaooo)

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

School has never felt so bland for you. Sure, it was never your favourite thing in the world—except for maybe biology—but you'd think that discovering a whole new world in your last year would make it a little more interesting.

It didn't.

It's been three weeks since you crash landed here in Gotham. The most you'd gotten from your family was an awkward "how are you" occasionally, and a lot of staring.

You'd only shown yourself as Spidey a few times to the public, but never stayed for those pesky news reporters shoving their microphones into your face. You'd never liked interviews, anyway.

The only highlight of your long days were MJ and Harry. You'd gotten over the initial shock of Harry being in love with you—convincing yourself that it really wasn't you he liked; it was this world's original you. (Though—that fact still lingers in the back of your mind whenever you talk).

Apart from that, school truly was uneventful. Your kooky art teacher was the only one of whom you actually liked, and it seemed the education here was rather lax. Uncaring. Not good for your future, surely—but you wouldn't have a future here, and you're sure this [name] Wayne will be just fine.

Speaking of schooling—the people here really seemed to hate the Gotham Prep kids. More than what a petty rivalry should be—it was pure malice.

Harry was especially adamant about this.

"They're all dumb, entitled rich kids who use daddy's money to get whatever they want, you know." He stabs his fork into a dry cut of chicken violently. Then points, accusatory, at MJ—who already presents a sneer to him. "And don't you start lumping me in with them—you know I'm not like that."

Her face twists, but soon she grins cheekily. "Okay, fine. Yeah, you're totally not, otherwise nobody here would like you one bit. And who doesn't love Harry, huh?"

"Oh, be quiet," But still, he smiles—damn his head is big. He glances over at you. You're picking around at your soggy broccoli with a frown. "Hey, [name]. Don't two of your brothers go to Gotham Prep?"

You look up at your ginger friend, head tilted to the side before it clicked. Oh, right. Tim and that young boy—Damian, if you remember correctly. Tim barely ever went to school if your diary was still accurate, and Damian had little choice but to.

(Doesn't seem like he'd be the social butterfly type, though.)

"Yeah, they do." You nod, still fiddling around with that vegetable.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're here—but why don't you go to school with them?" MJ leans forward in her seat. "I mean, isn't it easier for siblings to go to the same school?"

Your eyes widen for a second.

There's a few ways you can go about this.

One—you tell them everything you know about your other self. About how you never felt included enough to ask. How you never spent time with them. How it always felt like everything and everyone else was more important than you. How you suffered silently—begging for their attention for years like a house pet becoming a stray.

Two—you could tell them you have absolutely no idea because you have none of your memories of anything from the past years of this life—how you don't even remember all your siblings names half the time.

Or three, and your personal favourite—you can just lie.

It doesn't take a serial genius to figure out which one you chose.

"I guess I just didn't like the rich private school vibe they had going on." A smile falls over your lips. "Plus—you guys were coming here, so it gave me even more of a reason to attend, you know?"

You're not entirely sure that's true. But—if these two were anything like the Harry and MJ you know—then this would probably be right.

Judging from their smiles, your detective skills haven't failed you yet.

"Man!" MJ lolls her head back, groaning. "Can't believe I'm friends with two rich kids who get to choose which school they want—the beat down public or sleek rich private."

"Don't go dissing this school just because you're jealous of their uniforms," Harry snickers, pressing his index finger into MJ's cheek. She huffs and slaps him away.

"Silence, nepo baby. Your dad is basically Lex Luthor if he wasn't bald."

Harry looks more confused than offended at her comment, "Okay, but my dad isn't an evil mastermind plotting against a red and blue suited superhero."

You press your lips together thinly and look to the side, eyes focused on anything but him. Oh, Harry—if only you knew.

Damian Wayne had never truly seen the point of highschool.

Raised by assassains all his life—he had little room, time, and desire to learn about all this nonsense. While he enjoyed arts and fine literature—he couldn't find it within himself to care about the American Revolution, or whatever other ridiculous thing happened in history.

His maths teacher was absolutely, indubitably pathetic. Always on his phone as he assigns mountains of homework (because he never bothers to explain the complex materials they're given) on the latest subject—whether it be those blasted simultaneous equations, or to factorise useless monic trinomials. Even calculating tax and interest on the stupidest of cases.

Damian found himself sitting in the corner of his class in silence, staring down, bored, at the book in front of him. He truly hated math. There's so much real work to be done—crime to fight, plotting organisations to take down.

But his father, as always, is unmoving in his conviction that school is important. For Damian especially, anyway; Drake can skip as often as he likes because he's a senior already. Truly, ridiculous.

For Damian, and—oh.

You.

Bruce always seemed especially insistent on you two going to school. Even when everyone but him knew you skipped every few days and simply come home to wait.

Wait for what? For them?

His brows furrow. Suddenly, the black and white equations on the sheet blur and he zones out. Thinking.

You always did. From the day he'd walked into the manor, you were always there. Unconsciously, he'd notice it. A trait of a good assassin is that they can spot everyone in the room.

A trait of a great assassin is that they can spot everyone inside and watching.

Always, you were watching. Those pitiful stares. Desperate like a unloved pet. If he cared a little more (if any at all), he would've felt sorrow for your state.

Always wanting, but never asking. Never taking. Simply waiting for it all to come to you. He would never understand it. He would never understand you.

He would never understand how somebody could allow themselves to be so weak.

Like everybody else—when he first entered the manor, he proposed to fight you. Assuming—being the child of his father, like he was—you were worthy. That you were strong.

He doesn't know how he could've been so wrong. You immediantly reacted, gasping and clutching your face. He'd nicked it with the edge of his blade after he unsheathed it. You looked at the blood dotting your fingertips, then back at him, eyes wide.

Immediantly, Bruce rushed to his side and pushed him behind his larger, imposing figure—telling you to not interact with him because he's different to regular people. Different to you.

He watched you storm off from behind his father's legs; anger practically blaring off your figure.

Later—he happened to overhear you and Grayson talking quietly. Telling you to not be too hard on Damian, because he's troubled. That he's had a difficult life. At first—he was a tad offended—but that offence could not compare to the absolute fury burning in your eyes.

Though, it all melted away when Grayson's hand ruffled your hair. Like a little kid, you stared up at him, soft and starry-eyed as you unconsciously murmured you'd forgive your new little brother.

Damian dry-heaved. You were so goddamn weak.

So weak, and so normal. Everything you did was completely regular. You were on the same wavelength as the civilians he saved from burning rubble. The same as people who walked down the street, talking about their favourite Justice League member. Who cowered in fear in front of villains—to be saved by those heroes. By him.

You were nothing, and yet everything he could never have been.

(What child does not long for normalcy?)

Damian always thought you were rather helpless, regardless of how regular you were—and seeing you with that bullet lodged in your shoulder—he was right. Not being able to dodge something like a bullet—there was no wonder you never become a vigilante. There was no wonder you needed to be protected.

... Though—he began to think back.

Who did? Protect you; that is.

Whoever it was, they did a pretty awful job at it.

Damian strums his fingers against the hardwood table rhythmically. Face blank but mind running rapidly.

It couldn't have been Todd. No—he seemed to be in a frazzled state of mania when carrying your bleeding body in your arms. Perhaps he too, believed you were safe with the rest of his family.

(Oh how wrong Todd was—he looked livid.)

... Grayson?

No. When he's not in Blüdhaven, he is almost always with the other vigilantes within the family. Not here nor there, and certainly not close enough to protect you.

Not Drake. He never cared enough, despite everything. Not Cain, either. Though the silent protector type—she had too much on her plate to worry about you as well.

Gordon and Brown had their own families to worry about.

And his—your father? The Batman? There was no time for a regular child like you in the Batman's life of vigilantism. Whom he sworn to protect in his crusade now lay bleeding out in his great failure's arms.

...

Did you truly have nobody?

...

Damian couldn't really imagine it. He'd always assumed you had many friends to fill the void that yoir family left with their civilian clothes. ... Perhaps you did. He wouldn't know.

You are his only half sibling. In this world, only he is truly your brother, and you are his only older sibling. Does that not give him the slightest of responsibility?

He'd always been taught to keep everybody at arms length—even his own family. The whole world is out to get the Demon's grandson, then he must fight it. But his father taught him differently.

To protect those who cannot protect themselves—to keep those he cares about safe at any cost.

What of you? He does not care for you in the way an ordinary sibling should. Seeing you so weak, defenceless against him—must mean you trust him in some way.

(It's hard for him to fathom being able to feel so unprotected in a world he was taught was trying to extinguish him at every turn).

Regardless of how you don't belong—or how frosty you act toward your youngest brother—he has a duty.

No matter how hard you try—you can never sever the blood you two share. The others do not have this duty—but he does, because in the end, you are his. None of the others bothered, so Damian must.

You are everything he could never be, he has realised. But in the end, you are blood. It runs thicker in the veins than any water, and that is one of the most important things to Damian.

Seeing that same blood—his blood—spill out of you carelessly—that is a sight he will never bear witness to again.

Damian was the first one out the door as soon as the bell chimed in his ear. His bag slung tightly around his shoulders and textbook under his arm; he rushed into the familiar sight of a sleek, large car.

He shuts the door as he climbs into the backseat (Bruce said he was still too short to sit in the front, much to his son's displeasure). "Hello, Pennyworth."

Alfred glances back at him through the rear view mirror. "Good afternoon, Master Damian. How was school?"

"Same as usual. A waste of time." He clicks his seatbelt shut as the car begins to move. Alfred only hums, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

"I'm unsurprised to hear you say so. I do hope you understand why exactly, you are enrolled in school, however. And why Master Bruce is so adamant about your attendance."

Damian knows. He's always known, because it has been drilled into his head like a mantra. Talia and Ra's Al Ghul weren't math teachers—and most of his time really was spent training and sparring to be the best he could be.

He was not illiterate, nor stupid. Rather smart, actually. However, he didn't exactly learn algebra and chemistry with the League of Assassins.

He grumbles. "I know, Pennyworth. Father cannot seem to stop reminding me that all these things are far more important than stopping the endless wave of crime in Gotham."

If he weren't on the road—Alfred surely would've given him a nasty look. "Master Damian, please—your sincerity is positively slaughtering me."

Damian rolls his eyes, opting to stop this fruitless conversation and look outside the windows instead. At the outside world—the sky already paling to deep auburn shades as they drive through the endless roads.

He watched all the cars moving past; hurrying to get to their destination. Each with their own story and reason for being there. Every single one with their own thoughts and worries. Some with children, others with pets, and some with piles of groceries.

All with their own, individual lives. Including him.

A bus, too. It stops for a moment at a sheltered space, then drives away, leaving a few people standing under the shade.

An elderly lady with a man, presumably her son, walking away with her. A woman with frizzy red hair and freckles dotted over her nose. A few schoolkids—some his age, some older. Clearly from the public school on the other side of Gotham, if only to judge from the scantily clad clothes some of the older students wore—

Wait, is that you?

He sits up—the car slowly coming to a stop at a red light. His eyes don't leave your figure as he presses his nose against the window; observing.

You look around at the people that pass by you—gripping your bag close to your side and rushing into the nearest alleyway.

He waits for a few moments. This red light feels rather long—but what feels longer is watching and waiting for you to come out of that alleyway.

You never do.

Even as the car begins to move once more, driving past the intersection, he crawls as far back as possible to even get a glimpse—but you never show.

Just today, he had decided to be the one to take up the mantle and protect you. Just today, during a boring math class, he has decided that since you are his blood, he must keep a helpless civilian like you safe.

And now you're gone. Are you dead, or something?

(Deep down, his stomach twists at the thought.)

"Pennyworth, pull over." Hid voice is more taut than he had imagined. "Now."

Alfred looks back, glancing at the streets around. He doesn't question the young boy, simply doing as he is asked and pulling over to a deserted parking area.

When he has parked the car, he turns around and sees Damian slipping his Robin mask on—somehow already fully suited up.

His eyes widen, "Master Damian, what—"

"I have something to do. Let Father know I will be back home late."

Opening the door, Damian rushes out and pulls out his grappling hook, swinging onto the nearest building's roof and looking around.

He spots the alleyway you'd run into. It is still. Absolutely no movement nor any looks from passer-bys. He rushes across the roves towards where the dark side seeped into the crack of the buildings.

Maybe you'd taken another way out?

But looking at the alleyway now, it's more like a dip between the buildings to stand in more than anything. It was blocked off on the other side.

So where...???

He drops down, landing on his soles and squinting as he stares around into the dark. There's nothing.

No people, nor bodies, and certainly not anything to indicate anybody was ever here.

Except...

He glances at the wall. Theres a white cocoon-esque oval webbed to the wall. Those same webs he'd seen all that time ago—from that spider. That would show up then leave immediantly. Never staying for longer than they had to.

Dodging all of his and Batman's attempts at asking who you were, and what you were doing in Gotham. Always swinging away into the distance before they could be subdued.

Now, he stares at their ball of webbing and wonders if it truly is an arachnid he's dealing with.

He pokes it, looking it up and down. Then, he sees it. Through the small holes in the webs and the translucent, silk-like material—he finally sees it.

Your bag.

He tears off the webbing faster than he can think, getting the sticky substance stuck to his gloves and clothes; he barely even notices it. He grabs your bag and stares it, swallowing hard.

His mind buzzes with an unfamiliar staticky feeling and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Despite all the noise in his ear—his brain is able to comprehend one singular question.

... What did that arachnid do to you?

Clothed fingers digging deep into the leather fabric of the bag—clearly worn down and fading. Old. He would get Father to purchase you another. ... When he sees you next. Because he will.

His jaw clenches hard.

Damian throws the bag over his shoulder and grapples up—swinging onto a building roof and running across.

Running for what, he isn't sure. But what he is sure of, is that once he gets his hands on that arachnid, it will not be kind.

To find out what happened to you—that is his duty as your blood sibling.

He decides that in this life, he will be your protector. In the next, if he is ever given a chance to be normal like you—he will become a doctor. Or perhaps a painter. Or a poet. Maybe he will ask you to help him decide when he finds you and that arachnid.

... Yes, that sounds good.

You cut through the cool wind as you swing through the city. Grinning widely underneath your mask—you don't think you've ever been so happy since you landed here.

You're sure nobody will take your stuff. Even if they do, you could always just get whatever else you needed again. You were far too excited to dwell on the small stuff right about now.

Landing on a rooftop, crouched—you walk down the wall of the apartment complex, and look around for civilians. As he told you—the streets around the back of the building were practically deserted.

You count the amount of rooms from the side, up and down.

"Row 5, Apartment block... 2..." You hum, and nod to yourself.

You tap your necklace and the nanobots all crawl off your body, leaving you in your regular clothes. You land safely on the balcony of the room you were given.

You smooth out your flared jeans and take in a deep breath. Then, you bring up your knuckles, and knock.

The glass screen door opens before you can say fantastic.

A small pair of arms wrap around your torso and knock you backwards—you fall on your ass and let out a loud laugh.

"Spidey!!! [name]!!!"

"Is that who I think it is?!" You tease, eyes squinted upwards and the young kid buries into your stomach. His giggles are muffled by the fabric and he squeezes you so tight you'd be inclined to choke—if it wasn't you. "Frankie!! How's my favourite Richard?"

"I can't believe you'd say that, [name]. That hurts." A familiarly sweet voice speaks.

"Sue!" You grin, taking in the sight of the blonde and her husband by her side. You get up—Franklin stumbles behind you—and crash into her arms.

She chuckles, patting your back and smiling down at you, "I missed you too, [name]. You always manage to find yourself in the strangest situations, don't you?"

Reed cradles his chin, "Well, we were technically the cause of this distortion in reality, Susan—"

But seeing the expression on both your and his wife's face; he stops himself. Only smiling sheepishly. "My apologies. It's great to see you again, [name]. I didn't think we'd find another familiar face in a different universe."

"You're getting better at this, Reed." You lift yourself from Sue's comforting cradle and grin brightly up at him. "I didn't think I'd see all of you guys again, either. When you all disappeared for so long—I was wondering if something bad happened."

"Hah! Ta us? You kiddin'? Ya more bug-brained 'den that spider that bit ya!"

"Ben!!!" You go flying toward the rock-encased man and wrap your arms around his comfortingly tough neck. He spins you around and lets you down with a loud laugh.

"'Ey kid, how're ya? Heard ya tackled ol' matchstick 'ere outta the sky!" He slaps his rocky chest laughing—in the corner of your eye, Johnny stands behind him, unimpressed.

He walks up beside you, swinging an arm around your neck and snarks, "Yeah—well, Spidey's always been known for catching people off guard, huh? Creepin' up when you least expect it."

"You're making [name] sound like a villain, Unc!" Frankin, who had found himself attached to the side of your shirt, sticks out his tongue.

Johnny recoils, face falling in pure horror as he dramatically points at the young boy, "UNC??!! I... I'm an Unc now...??? I'm not even 19! I can't be an Unc!!!"

You burst out into laughter at the genuineness of Johnny's expression, watching as he freaks out about being "old". Sue and Reed roll their eyes—while Ben is there with you, laughing his ass off like he'd just gotten a home run on Yancy Street.

Franklin looks at your laughing expression and starts giggling along—jumping up and down beside you with sparkling eyes.

"Stop laughing, [name]! We're the same age!" Johnny points, accusatory. "If I'm an Unc, you're a...!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm cooler than Uncle Johnny anyways, right Frankie?" You grin, picking up Franklin as he cuddles into your neck.

"Mhm!" He nods eagerly.

Johnny sends you a blazing glare, lips pouted out. "You and me. We're—" He gestures to the two of you. "—gonna have some issues, here. Okay. Everyone knows I'm the cool Uncle."

"No, that's Benny!" Franklin points to Ben.

The look on Johnny's face shifts into utter disbelief—Ben falls out of his chair laughing wildly.

"Gosh, I missed you so much, kid." You pull at one of Franklin's cheeks and chuckle. He stares at you in awe for a few seconds, before hugging the side of your head and giggling.

"I missed you too!"

That same warmth fills each crevice and pore of your body, as you huddle close to your dear friends and let yourself feel at home for this small moment.

Meanwhile, in the dark of night, a pair of azure eyes watches, sharp and unnerving in the back of your skull.

You notice it. Of course you do. Your mind is tingling with that buzz—but you want to enjoy this night of nothing but home, even if only once.

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi @bunniotomia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @bat1212 @gaychaosgremlin @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @randomlyappearingartist @cxcilla @spidermanluvr444 @cruzerforce4256 @mybones537 @xjesterxjacksx @nirvanaxx1942 @djpuppy-kittens @br33zy-blizzardz @moon0goddess @0sunnyside01 @mei-simp @redsakura101 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @lovemiss-vale @deathbynarcisstick @allycat4458 @wonmyheart @luckyangelballoon @one-piecelover @hartwyrm @horror-lover-69 @maria-trisha @4rachn3 @galaxypurplerose @duskeras @coffeeaddictxd @lithiumval @kaz-playz

tsglist is closed, sorry! but do try and keep up with updates thank you!!!

[heesimp]

tasty (heeseung)

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count: 5.6K

notes: based off of this request. thank you anon! I probably won’t open a taglist at this time but I’ll let you know if I do when I post other fics. XX

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” 

Your co-workers stare at you while you try to push down any simmer irritation. They’re not to blame, but pestering you to go out to a bar and get drunk when all you want to do is go home, is making you even more irritated. They mean no harm and look at you with sorry eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you tell them. Luckily for you, they nod and accept your decline. “Thanks for the invite though.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” 

In typical twenty-something-year-old fashion, certain days feel longer than most. Today is no exception. It’s hard to navigate the woes of landing on your feet when you’re wrapped up in midterm projects and trying to have a social life without throwing yourself off balance. When the semester started, you were nothing other than a happy-go-lucky, fourth-year university student who was excited to finish college and take the first step towards “real life.” Unfortunately for you, your days would get tough before you’d see it to the finish line. 

The ride back to your apartment isn’t long by any means but the traffic from your job at a convenience store was met with rush hour. The bus took much longer than usual but you always anticipate that when you’re scheduled until 5pm. Everybody’s going home at the same time and even public transportation falls victim to the hustle and bustle of corporate life. 

On your way home, you can’t help but linger on the inconveniences of the recent past. Midterms have snuck up on you like they do every year and no amount of studying into the night could ever prepare you for the stress that comes with obsessing over good grades for five separate classes. It kills you that no two tests weigh the same and preparing for projects feels like you’re signing a death sentence. You’ve barely seen your friends aside from in passing and haven’t had any time to take care of yourself and have fun. 

It feels as though you’ve lost all motivation because school and work has sucked the energy right out of you. Even your best friend, Lee Heeseung, has started to soften up around you because he can tell how stressed you are. If anything, the amount of unread texts from him and your absence in his physical life is a telltale sign that school is kicking your ass, but he knows you always bounce back. You know you will too, but right now it feels like it’ll take too long to get there. 

The first thing you do is take all of your clothes off and settle them in the dirty hamper and take a shower, cleaning off the grime from a long day outside of your bedroom. Your hair is clean and your skin feels silk to the touch when you step out and dry yourself. It takes a great deal of effort to follow through on your skincare routine and tidy up your room so that it doesn’t feel like an overwhelming mess the more you look at it. Today sucked. There’s no doubt about that. 

Eventually, the clock turns into a late hour after you’ve had dinner and a sweet treat to make up for the awfully long and boring day you had. The week drains on you and you’re looking forward to the weekend because that means you don’t have to work. After settling in bed with the television on, you try your best to let your worries escape you and focus on what’s in front of you. 

Whether the show is too boring or you’re too worked up, you don’t know. The TV is long forgotten as you aimlessly scroll through your phone and start pushing your thighs together and clench around absolutely nothing when you log into a Twitter account you don’t post on. It must be out of habit to act like this when you see the familiar username because it’s where you keep your porn stash for when you need to get off. There’s everything you could ever want–short videos, photos, and links to other websites that always gets you off. The long day has made you think about how you need at least a single win in order for this week to not completely suck. Bringing yourself to orgasm might be the way to do it. 

You spread your legs underneath the covers and take a finger to tease up your slit that’s covered by your panties and hold your phone in your free hand, using your thumb to scroll past the plethora of videos that turn you on. It’s all about finding the right one, and seeing big dicks and wet pussies makes you worked up. You start to forget about the week and consider that a good start. 

Moving your finger against your covered pussy always makes you wet. You imagine it’s someone else teasing you the way you like it and pretend you don’t need to move a muscle to get off. Swiping the tips of your fingers back and forth makes you soak through the pathetic fabric anyway, and the excitement of your arousal makes you gush right onto your panties. 

You scroll through them one by one and pull your panties to the side to feel just how wet you’ve become and moan quietly as the feeling of your slicked up walls. Pushing a finger inside, the welcomed sensation is exactly what you needed after a hard week. You add two, then three, and pump them in and out of you with your legs bent towards your chest. It should be an easy orgasm. 

Except, it isn’t. Three of your own fingers isn’t enough.

At this rate, you don’t know how long you’ve been rutting your hips but what you do know is that you can’t seem to get yourself off with just your fingers. Pulling them out makes you wince at the loss and you force yourself off of your bed to find your trusty vibrator that has always served you when you need to get off quickly. You dig for it in the depths of your drawers but, to your dismay, the device is uncharged. You’re far too worked up to wait for it to become usable. You crawl into your bed again and angrily look through your phone at the porn in your bookmarks and try to get yourself back to that state of euphoria when you started touching yourself, but knowing too much is bothering you is preventing you from letting go. 

Your room echoes as you groan in frustration when your eyes land on a photo on your desk. It’s a picture of you and Heeseung that Jay took when the three of you hung out together after you first moved into this apartment. The two of them helped move boxes and furniture, and you rewarded them with a free meal from the noodle shop across the street. Heeseung sits next to you with his thighs pressed against yours because of the small table but neither of you really cared. 

That’s the thing, though. Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.” He hears you whisper it into the phone. 

“Did I hear you correct? You can’t get yourself off?” Heeseung curses under his breath and his hands have stopped typing on his keyboard completely. Frustration pushes tears to the rim of your eyes. 

“I can’t.” Your voice wavers like you’re about to choke a sob. “I just want to cum, Heeseung.”

You don’t see it, but he disconnects his video game connection without consulting his friends. He sits back in his seat and brings the phone off speaker mode and pushes it to his ear. “Y/N…Have you been touching yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t know why but I’m in this mental block and I can’t focus on anything. Nothing is helping.” 

He chokes. “What do you mean?”

“My vibrator is dead and I’ve been using three fingers but it’s not helping!” 

Heeseung sits quietly on the other line. “Are you touching yourself now?” 

“No,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it for an hour and I can’t finish.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You must be so wet.” 

“Not anymore.” You say it through your teeth, too upset that your high has ebbed away.

“You should start touching yourself again.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Touch yourself and make your pussy all wet.” It’s concerning how much you like hearing your best friend talk to you like this. But you do, putting your phone on speaker and putting it on the mattress beneath you with your hand caressing your pussy. You don’t know if it’s you, Heeseung, or the notion that you’re crossing a bridge, but your spine starts to tingle. Your touch is as light as a feather.

“Are you doing it?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Really good…”

“How good?” 

“Feels like someone else is touching me,” you tell Heeseung. “If I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s someone else.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” 

“No, Hee. I just…I’m so frustrated.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He’ll address that nickname later. “Why are you frustrated?” 

“School and work are stressing me out and nobody in my group projects lifts a finger. I feel so alone in this.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have me, remember?” You get wetter the more he talks. It feels wrong to be turned on by Heeseung’s voice but you can't help it. He’s talking to you like he hears the way your voice quivers and how badly you need somebody to take away all of your pain, and perhaps you feel comforted because you know Heesueng will do just that and always had. Your fingers rub your wetness around your bare mound the more you think about it, pushing aside any guilt or awkwardness you initially felt.

“When have I ever not been there for you? Never, baby. Including this.” 

“This?” 

He chuckles. “Yeah. Helping you cum.” 

“Hee, don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s true. Best friends help each other cum.” 

“How are you gonna help me do that?” 

It’s silent on the other line for a long pause and your heart starts to sink when you think you might’ve crossed a line. Is he uncomfortable? Does he want to hang up and forget about this? Will he ever look at you the same way after tonight? 

“Keep touching yourself. I’m coming over.” 

Your eyes widen. “N-Now?” 

“Yes, now. I live five minutes from you. I’ll be over soon.” 

The thought of Heeseung coming over makes you impossibly wet. It’s been so long since you’ve let anybody touch you the way you’d like after failed hook ups that left you unsatisfied. Your bedroom suddenly feels warmer and your arousal keeps your fingers slick the more you rub against your pussy. It makes your toes clench and you’re starting to get excited again. 

“Please hurry, Hee. My fingers are starting to get sore.” 

“I’ll be there in two. Don’t hang up.”

“F-Fuck,” you whimper silently. Heeseung’s phone picks up your moan and you hear him let out a low groan when he turns his engine on. 

“You have the sexiest moans. I wanna hear them while you get yourself off, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You rub your pussy faster. “Yes, Hee. Fuck, I’m so wet. This feels so good.”

“Be a good baby and play with your clit a little for me, hm? Get her all nice and prepped.” 

You do as he says, moving the pads of your fingers in circular motions around your engorged nub when he tells you. Your eyes close shut when that jolt of pleasure makes your body jerk and arch off of the bed and that loud sound emitting from the back of your throat makes Heeseung hum in approval. 

“Juuust like that. Fuck, you sounds even better than I imagined. You’re a vocal one, huh?” 

“Only when it feels really good.”

“Yeah? Do you feel really good?” 

You lick your lips. “It would feel better if you were here.” Heeseung laughs. 

“I’m here and I’ve got your spare key. Keep fucking yourself for me.” 

The call ends there. You hear the door opening and part of you considers using your blanket to cover yourself up because in all of the years you’ve been friends with Heeseung, he has never seen you this indecent. It feels a bit humiliating to know your best friend will find you with your fingers rubbing against yourself while your hips chase that delicious pleasure but ultimately, you can’t find it in yourself to care too deeply about that. 

Heeseung’s footsteps alert you to his presence and you’re pleasantly surprised to see him standing in the threshold of your bedroom after he’s opened your doorknob. His black hair covers his eyes as he catches his breath, and it looks like he ran up the two floors just to get to your apartment quicker than an elevator could take him. He’s hesitant when he walks inside until his eyes lock with yours. Your next moan comes from deep within your chest and Heeseung wastes absolutely no time. 

He lands on his knees and pulls your body towards the edge of the bed. Your scent invades his olfactory senses as he looks down below you, pushing your feeble hand away to admire the mess you’ve made of yourself. It should feel embarrassing to have your best friend look at you like this, but it doesn’t. Your heart beats faster the more Heeseung’s eyes scan your wet pussy and before you know it, his mouth latches onto you. 

The feeling of someone’s tongue shoved deep within you is a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. Heeseung kneads your thighs with his hands as he keeps you in place and the pace he sets makes your body feel like it might as well be up in space. 

You hear stories all the time about Heeseung hooking up with other girls whether it be from himself or others. Girls love to pretend to be your friend to get close to him and love to talk about these kinds of things with you because they assume you’re getting in on the action too, only to leave the conversation perplexed when you tell them you and Heeseung have never gotten involved like that. But now, with every bit of information about how he slurps pussy like he needs it to live, you’re starting to wonder why you never asked him to do this before tonight. 

“Tasty,” he mutters after a beat of silence. Your hand comes to grip his hair for stability when he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks on it while rubbing his tongue against your pleasure point. “How come you never told me you taste so good?”

“You never asked.” 

He laughs against your pussy. “Still got some attitude, huh?” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” He looks up at you like he’s weighing a challenge. 

“If you were any other girl, I’d pull out every time you’re about to cum. I’d have you begging for that shit. If you were somebody else, I’d stuff your mouth with my cock until you learn how to obey.” He licks up your pussy once more before adding two of his fingers inside, moaning at your smooth and wet walls as he pumps them inside of you. “But you’re my best friend and you’ve had a hard week. I’m gonna make you cum.” 

If a thousand suns exploding feels like Heeseung’s tongue and fingers working in tandem with each other, then this is a feeling you never want to forget. They work separately but it feels like he’s pushing you closer and closer to the finish line the more he pays attention to your clit and g-spot at the same time, pressing on that little button the more you whine and aimlessly beg for him to let you cum. You can barely register your own voice moaning because the pressure is too much against your ears. Heeseung’s fingers plunge in and out of you at a pace that is somewhere between gentle and brutal, giving you enough force to take your mind off of the stress from the week to focus on your pussy being pleasured. 

You screw your eyes shut when you can feel that coil unraveling. Heeseung seems to notice that too because of the string of moans you let out when he pushes his fingers against your sweet spot. His mouth licks and licks as his hand pushes your wetness right against his tongue and it doesn’t take very long for him to taste your cum. 

Heeseung’s head disappears between your legs and he’s barely able to move his hand because of how tight your thighs are against his ears. He’s always loved your thighs and legs, and loves them even more now that he knows what it feels like when you suffocate him as he licks up your delicious cum. You ease up on him when he pries them away to free his hand from the uncomfortable position and uses both hands to keep your legs apart as he licks up the remnants of your cum and helps you ride out your orgasm until your chest falls against the mattress. 

He wipes the back of his hands before giving your slit a gentle kiss. “You’re so sexy when you cum.”

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” 

“Why?” 

You watch him crawl up your body between your spread legs. “Because…” 

“Because?” 

“You’re my best friend and we’ve seen each other through everything. Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know, weird?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head and dips below to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not weird. In fact, I’d argue we should do this more often.”

You frown. “I don’t intend to be somebody you keep on a roster, Lee. You can keep that shit to yourself, but thank you for helping me cum.” Heeseung laughs against your mouth until you feel his lips ghost right over yours. 

“There won’t be other girls involved if we fuck, Y/N. I’m not heartless like that. Everybody else knows I’m in it for sex and nothing else, but it’s like you said. You’re my best friend. I won’t make you feel like you’re just somebody I can hit up.” 

“So this would be like…friends with benefits?” 

“We can work out the semantics later.” He lets his lips touch yours and when you don’t object, Heeseung opens your mouth with his own and you taste the saltiness of your cum on his lips. You clench around nothing when you hear your mouths smacking together in the quiet of your bedroom. 

It feels…good. It doesn’t feel out of place, even though this is the first time you’ve kissed Heeseung. You haven’t thought about it much either, but somehow his lips fit perfectly in yours and his soft hands holding your body in his adds to your arousal. You feel safe with him at this moment and it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with somebody who hasn’t made you feel like an afterthought. Your mind feels a bit foggy but you know you like this feeling and don’t want him to stop. Still, you have your worries.

“This won’t be weird, will it?” 

“No, baby. In fact, all you had to do was ask me to drop the other girls and I would’ve.” You roll your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’re in love with me, or something.” 

Heeseung pulls away and smiles down at you. “Yeah. Or something.” You ignore the way your heart flutters and realize his bulge is poking your bare pussy. 

“You’re hard.” 

“So you’ve noticed.” 

You pinch his bicep. “You get hard eating pussy?” 

“Well yeah because it’s pussy, but it’s also you.” You start to talk but Heeseung silences you with a kiss. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve made you cum?” 

His vulgar words make you shy underneath his gaze all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling and you’re not quite sure how to navigate it, especially with the way he’s staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung is still your best friend who gives you shit for everything. You suppose you’re grateful that he’s not changing who he is just because he knows what you look like naked. 

“You know what? Actually, I don’t think I’m satisfied.” 

Heeseung grins wickedly and pulls his body off of your chest to take his shirt off, his chiseled muscles on display for you to look at. He grabs your hand and places it on his abdomen. “Oh yeah? What else can I do for you, princess?”

You take your fingernails on his skin and feel his abs move beneath you. “I think I need you inside me too.”

“Were my mouth and fingers not enough?” You shake your head. Heeseung tuts as he gets off of the bed to step out of his pants and boxers, revealing a long and thick cock you’ve only ever heard about. It’s dripping with precum and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching or your mouth from drooling. 

You watch him get back on the bed one knee at a time before he’s hovering over you again, pulling your body to the position he wants as your legs spread before him. He looks down at his cock and tugs on it twice before letting his tip rest against your clit. 

“Need some of my cock?” 

“Yes, yes!”

“Who knew my best friend has such a tight pussy. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with other girls in the first place.” You seem to like hearing that. He brings his fingers to push the head of his cock inside of you before sinking halfway in, allowing you to adjust to his size as you squeeze him. “Oh yeah, honey. This pussy’s gonna make me cum hard, I already know that.” 

Heeseung holds your legs open and pushes his hips into you slowly. The drag feels so good with how warm he’s made you and you can feel him throbbing with every pass. You hold onto your breasts for stability, which seems to turn him on even more because he’s pushing your legs towards your chest and pushing into you with all of his might. 

You’re able to see him from where you lie. His eyebrows concentrate as he squeezes his eyes shut and sweat lines his forehead the more he thrusts inside of you. He sits up on his knees to angle his dick inside of you better and moans when you let out a strangled groan. The clench is so tight and amazing, and Heeseung can’t fathom why he’s never fucked you before tonight. 

“Sexy pussy,” he grunts, looking down at your abused hole as he thrusts into it. He brings his thumb to your clit and you yelp when he starts to rub it. “So wet and fuckable.” 

“Fuck me,” you manage to choke. 

And truthfully, you like Heeseung plowing into you at the pace he’s set. He’s not too fast but not too slow and you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. It’s no wonder girls were always lining up to have sex with him. Heeseung knows what he’s doing with his dick and you’re finding that out now. 

“You want me to fuck you?”

You nod pathetically. “Please fuck me.”

“How hard?” You bite your lip and shake your head at the humiliation of begging for him but Heeseung tuts and smacks your clit with his hand. “I said, how hard?”

“So hard that I feel you in my stomach!”

“Atta girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heeseung slips out of you and pulls you up on your hands and knees, beckoning your back in a deep arch. He plants both of his feet on the mattress and bends until he’s sinking his cock back down inside of your pussy, letting your mixed wetness coat him again. 

He thrusts himself as his mouth hangs open. Heeseung grips your waist with both hands and squeezes you hard to balance himself as he throws his head back at the phenomenal sensation of your walls pulling him in every time he tries to pull out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his balls against you and clutch into your bedsheets.

“Your balls are slapping against my pussy and it feels really good,” you manage to get out without stuttering. Heeseung feels you clench around him again and emphasizes his thrusts until the sound of his balls makes your ears vibrate. 

“Feels good when it hits your clit, doesn’t it?”

“So good, fuck!” 

Heeseung speeds his thrusts and relishes in your string of moans the more his tip nudges your g-spot. “Can you cum, baby? Cum around my cock like I know you want to. You’ve earned it after this week. Cum for me. Won’t you let me feel that?”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Hee! I’m fucking cumming!”

“Yeahhh. Oh your cum is so good. Doing so well, making your pussy creamy all over me like that. Cum for me.”

And it feels so good that you follow his command. The orgasm Heeseung’s cock brings you feels like a physical manifestation of letting go of your worries and enjoying the present moment. Despite your legs and pussy aching, this feels an awful lot like freedom because your own mind isn’t caged by the inability to get yourself off. 

You don’t think, you can’t think. You’ve reached a point of nirvana that’s made your mind completely blank with the exception of your orgasm and the feeling of your best friend fucking right inside of you. His cock, so hard and warm, somehow feels so perfect lodged inside of you. 

Heeseung cock twitches and you feel it the more he pounds into you. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock becoming white with your cum with every pointed thrust and doesn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself to the point of being able to forget about everything except the person he’s with. Sex with other girls is incredible but there comes a point where he realizes that they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. But you, his best friend since he can remember, give him some kind of peace that he’s never felt before. This is more than just a quick fuck, even if neither of you address it.

“Your pussy’s gonna make me cum,” he moans through a choked grunt. “You feel so good baby, fuck.” 

Heeseung pulls out of your hole just enough to rest his tip against you. His warm cum floods against your folds and your body jerks at the way he twitches against you, but his hands keep hold of your hips to place you exactly where he wants you. He looks down to watch his cum spill from his slit and paint your pussy like the artwork that it is.

When he’s finished cumming, Heeseung leans back against his knees to spread you apart by gripping your asscheeks. “Would you look at that?” 

“Stop looking…”

He chuckles. “Why, baby? Your pussy’s so pretty with my cum on it.” 

You look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” He nods at you before pulling away to scour your room until he finds a box of tissues on your nightstand and grabs a few to clean you up to the best of his ability before cleaning himself up too. 

Overcome with a wave of tiredness, your body feels much more relaxed once you’ve slipped underneath the covers as Heeseung throws away the dirty tissues. He turns around when he hears the blankets ruffling and resists the urge to coo at you when you’ve tucked it underneath your chin. 

“Looks like you needed one good fuck to relax, hm?”

You blush. “Shut up.”

“No can do, Y/N.”

“I…”

Heeseung leans down towards you and tilts his head. “You what?”

You avert his gaze. “I liked it when you called me baby.” 

“Yeah?” He pushes some of your hair back as you yawn. “I can do that.” 

“Are you gonna go home?”

“Not if you let me stay the night.” You don't have it in you to talk back to him after all he’s done for you. Instead, you open the covers as Heeseung puts his boxers back on and watch him smile before climbing in next to you. “Come here.” He tucks your body on his chest and you’re too tired to argue with him. 

His heartbeat puts you to sleep.

tagging: @zara2318 @markmato @heechwe @horijiro @ggumjilgeong-yjn @porunarefuu @leov3rse. :)

[authorscurse]

No one understood why you chose Ryomen Sukuna as your boyfriend out of everyone you could have chosen instead. Not even your family, friends, or coworkers knew why.

You are the kind of girl who loved having ribbons in her hair and made sure it matched with the color of your outfit. The kind of girl who watched and read about soft and romantic lovestories that could only exist in books and movies. The kind of girl who wouldn't have fallen for the notorious Ryomen Sukuna!

"Do you think he blackmailed her to be his girlfriend?"

"Do you think he paid her?"

"He probably threatened her,"

No, no, and no! Sukuna never did any of that!

"I just fell for him, that's it," you always answered whenever someone asked. And still, no one understood it. Not until they saw the way Sukuna treated you.

You had a bad habit of biting your nails, sometimes you never knew you were actually biting your nails until someone pointed it out.

One time you decided to visit your parents with Sukuna just because they were staying at your grandparents house while they were in the city.

You sat with your parents in the living room watching whatever was on the TV and that's when Sukuna noticed something from the corner of his eye. You were slowly bringing up your fingers to your mouth, ready to bite.

Instead of loudly pointing it out and embarrass you, he immediately took your hand in his to prevent you from biting them. The action was small and barely noticeable but your parents noticed.

You were known to always ribbons in your hair no matter the occasion and you made sure the color and theme of your bow matched your outfit.

While out with your friends, your boyfriend and theirs followed closely behind while you girls roamed around the mall choosing what to buy.

"Kuna, look!" You showed Sukuna a beautiful red silk dress that had a slit that would sit at your right thigh. Your friends watched as Sukuna nodded and grabbed the dress from your hand and placed it inside your basket without any comment.

When it was time to check out, a matching red ribbon was inside your basket that you never picked up or placed inside it. Your eyes widen and showed Sukuna, "did you get that?" You asked even if you already knew the answer. Sukuna clicked his tongue while giving the cashier his credit card. "'Course I did, who else would've put it there if you didn't?" He responded.

You only smiled sweetly before placing a kiss in his cheek. Of course you both had eyes watching you closely, despite the Sukuna's sassy reply his actions was sweet and small, but your friends noticed.

You loved the raining, but you get sick so easily so Sukuna hated (not really) having to take care of you while you were sick after you disobeyed his orders of not playing in the rain. It was raining when Sukuna picked you up at your office's exit.

He had you raincoat under his arm and he helped you get it on you. "Kuna," you started but before you can utter the words Sukuna already knew what you'll be asking.

"No," he cut you off, pulling the strings of your raincoat to fully cover you. "But Kuna—" you reasoned but Sukuna was not having it. "You'll get whiny and teary eyed when you get sick and I'll have to deal with all of it," Sukuna says buttoning up the last button on your raincoat. "Please," you begged, you pulled off your best puppy eyes and Sukuna tried to resist but the longer you stared at him the shorter his resistance held on.

Sukuna could only sigh and watch you smile widely while taking the hood of your raincoat and ran. Sukuna sighs loudly and trailed behind you. The next day, Sukuna called your office to tell them you were sick from what? Playing in the rain.

The whole day Sukuna took care of you, clearly the opposite of what he said to you a day prior. After getting better, you walked back to work all well and energised.

"I'm okay now. My boyfriend took great care of me," you told everyone who asked how you were doing. Your coworkers noticed that you were much more cheerful than before. You think your coworkers wouldn't notice, but they did.

Again, no one really understood why you love Ryomen Sukuna so much. But you did. The subtly actions, the concern and care under the sassy tone, and of course the actions hidden behind closed doors.

Others just really need to look closely to see why you love Ryomen Sukuna so much.

[matt-is-me]

Mind Trick

cw:hypnosis,arousal

You and your friend are sitting on their couch, watching TV and unwinding after a very tiring day. You've both had a ton of work to worry about, and they think the best remedy for that exhaustion is to destress on the couch for a bit, then try out the trigger they gave you the previous day.

It was a Jedi Mind Trick suggestion, one that makes you mindlessly agree with them any time they wave their hand front of your face. You thought it was a very nerdy thing to use during a hypnosis session, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious of its effects.

You wanted to chill out for a bit, but there had to be a better way to do that. The TV was very boring. It was that dumb cooking show your friend always watches. You couldn't stand it, it was like watching paint dry.

"Can you please change the channel? You know how much I hate this show" , you asked, in a tired, grumpy tone.

They waved their hand.

"But you love this show, hun, you always have!"

Your previous opinion began to fade from your head, swiped away by the hand authoritavely swaying in front of you.

That.. that was true. It had always been that way. What were you complaining about? You loved to watch cooking shows! They offered a very relaxing, and informative experience, and suddenly it became impossible to take your eyes off the screen.

You continued watching with your friend for a while, excited with your newfound knowledge of how to prepare Steak au Poivre. It wasn't until both of you spent a little time relaxing your muscles that they suggested doing something else.

"Hm, I've chilled out enough. I'm in the mood for something.. diferent. Are you horny, dear?" They looked at you as they quizzed you on your arousal.

On one hand, you were a bit aroused, and it was the perfect way to destress. But on the other, you were pretty tired, and it was much easier to sit and watch the show. You needed a push, if your friend wanted this very lazy evening to end differently.

They waved their hand.

"You're incredibly aroused"

This time, you repeated their words, doing so without resistance. "I'm incredibly aroused" , you replied, the mindless tone of your voice quickly erasing your previous opinions.

That.. that was true. It had always been like that. Your tired expression morphed from sleepy to unfathomably horny. The thoughts that occupied your mind changed, from ones of curling up on the couch to sexual fantasies of your tist. Your mind grew aroused.

You began to absent-mindedly touch yourself. Nothing major, of course, but just enough to keep yourself worked up. Your friend watched your sudden shift in personality, content with how easy it was to make you agree with them.

They waved their hand.

"Your mind is extremely fuzzy"

"My mmind... fuzzy...", you replied, not even a tiny ammount of hesitation in your voice.

That was true. Your mind could barely keep a coherent thought inside your head. You began to drool your thoughts away as you touched yourself, the only noises escaping your mouth being giggles and moans. You were too dizzy to care about not being understood.

They waved their hand.

"You are really needy. You need me to tell you what to do. What to think."

"N..needyyy....", your voice trailed off, unable to repeat anymore.

That was true. You got closer to them, still touching yourself as you looked into their eyes. Your moans turned into a chorus of needy words, your mind looping the same fantasies of being blanked by your dear pal. You were begging. You had to beg.

"Pleaseee uusee meee,, nneed uu to tell me whhat ddoo.. wahhat too thinkk.. pleasepleasepleasepleaseepleasee"

"Aww, good toy!", your tist responded, a smile forming on their face as they watched your pretty head break from the pleasure.

They waved their hand.

"You're blank."

That was true. You were blank. Your mind suddenly stopped, no longer thinking anything. You froze in place, awaiting commands. You needed to be told what to do. What to think. And your tist had some great ideas~

"I am blank.", you mindlessly replied.

And just like that, with a few waves of a hand, you were gone.

[witchywithwhiskey]

only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 

But he didn’t. 

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[vin-taege]

Erik Campbell cockwarming drabble

Genre: smut, pwp

Words: ~900

Note: yeah I can't help myself

too busy thinking about lying on top of Erik Campbell while he plays Mortal Kombat on the couch. It's in the late hours of the night and everyone has retreated to their rooms. It's just the two of you downstairs and your position would've looked so sweet—his arms wrapped around you, controller in his hands as he props them up on your back. But underneath the blanket, his prince albert drags against your walls as you cockwarm him.

Your breathing grows heavy, each jolt from him every time his character takes a blow makes you twitch around him. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if you've soaked through the boxers he tugged down. You peer at him through your lashes, hoping for some—any—semblance of attention from him. Instead, his blue eyes stay frozen on the stupid TV, corners of his lips downturned in concentration.

You whine, wiggling your hips a little. He let's out a small, prolonged grunt, but still doesn't look at you. His voice is low, threatening. "If you keep doing that, I'll show everyone in this house just how much of a slut you could be. I'd fuck you into this couch right now and wake every single one of them up."

His words made you clench around him. In the background, you could hear the game go on. Flashes of light reflected back in his eyes, framed by the curve of his lashes. You bit your lip, slowly craning your neck so your lips could reach the base of his throat. As if savoring him, you trailed open-mouthed kisses from his collarbone to the curve of his jaw. You could taste the smoke and leather that always came with him.

A small rumble came from his throat. He muttered your name once. A warning. You couldn't help yourself, taking the skin beneath his ear into your teeth, sucking and licking. Behind you, you hear the announcer declare a fatality, followed by Erik chucking the controller on the table.

Long fingers wrap around your throat, putting pressure on the base of your jaw. You grinned internally, knowing this was his way of still being gentle. He'd never hurt you, even when it's a rough fuck.

He jerks your head back, the shit-eating grin on your face meeting his furrowed eyebrows. Real frustration mixed with faux annoyance. His other hand slides against your skin before it lands on your hips, gripping you like a clamp before getting pierced. His voice is gravelly when he speaks, a cloak from fighting sleep.

"Look what you did, doll. That was ranked too."

Without warning, he thrusts into you, watching your expression morph. Your jaw drops, forming a silent gasp. Your head tilts back, throat still in his hand. Wetness slicks your thighs, making sinful noises each time he drilled into you. Hushed whimpers and strangled moans stumbled out of your lips. Below you, soft grunts came from him as he fucked into you with so much animosity, yet his touch remained tender.

He could feel you reaching your high, knows it by the way your breath stuttered and the tightness of you clenching around him. In one swift motion, he pulls out, putting a hand on your nape before flipping your position. Your back stuck to the worn leather couch, knees folded into your chest, all splayed out for him.

"You're such a fucking brat sometimes," you heard him say more to himself before he enters you again.

His pace was brutal, eager. Delayed gratification is what he called it when he pitched the idea of cockwarming to you. And god, you could tell that he was having the time of his life, snapping his hips against your dripping cunt, holding the back of your knees in place like a vice.

"Just can't help yourself, doll? Such a needy girl for me, huh? Can't wait just a few more fucking minutes like you're in heat."

The knot in your stomach was coiling tighter. You panted, barely keeping up with the rhythm he set for you. But you're so good—his good girl—so you hang your head back and clench every muscle in your body.

"E-erik... Sir... m'coming—c-cumming...!" You barely babble out. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you hear him chuckle lowly.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth, hooking your jaw. Your orgasm hits you all at once, thighs twitching, walls spasming. You bite down on him hard, tears in your eyes as you shudder beneath him. God, you did try to be quiet.

"Take it. Take it like a good doll. This is what you wanted, right? Fucking take it all." He thrusts into you a few more times, getting sloppier the more he approached his own orgasm.

By the time he fully buries into you, you've come again, face crumpled in a silent moan. Hot spurts paint your walls. He angles his hips just right so you can feel the metal tip of his piercing as he slowly drags his cock out.

You could feel your shirt clinging to your sweat-damp skin. Your panties were tossed aside somewhere—hopefully you'll get them back on before everyone comes down from breakfast. And even before then, you'd hope his cum dripping down your cunt won't stain the couch too badly.

Bleary-eyed and still coming down from your high, Erik held you close, both of you panting hard. He shimmied the both of you on the couch until you were pressed against each other on your sides.

"You did so well for me," he whispered into the crown of your head. You rested your head on one of his arms as the other wrapped around your waist. "Don't worry doll, I'll clean this up. Go rest for me okay?"

[athenaeum-of-the-herald]

Starting the Journey:

• 𝐀 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐦 •

Hellenic polytheism (commonly referred to as helpol and popularly, although incorrectly, referred to as hellenism or hellenismos) refers to the reverence and worship of the hellenic (greek) gods. Over the past 7+ years, the religion has seen a boon of new followers popularized by social media, books, and TV shows. While this is phenomenal, it's brought in an influx of young and/or beginner future worshippers with no clue where to start. And with so many different possible starting points, a plethora of gods, and that one deity identification spread floating around, this post serves as a path all on its own.

You can follow it to the T, or take the basics of it and forage ahead yourself!

As always, I am a single resource. Please remember that even though this post serves as a guide, your own research will benefit you far more. Let's begin!

0. Respect

The very VERY first thing to remember when beginning your journey with hellenic polytheism, is to remember this is a religion. Sounds obvious, right? But many people seem to forget that the gods are in fact, gods. They are ancient, and the religion is very much alive and thriving. Respect will always be ground rule 0, and approaching the gods casually or for shits and giggles is not only disrespectful to them, but the beautiful, rich, and thriving existence of this religion.

1. The Starting Point

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

Starting the worship of the gods begins with learning about the god (or gods) you'll be revering. There's a plethora of books to start with; "Ancient Greek Religion", "Ancient Greek Cults", "A Companion to Greek Religion". And while you should ABSOLUTELY read these, I understand that that can be a bit daunting and scary. So your VERY BASICS, should be "The Homeric Hymns", *The Orphic Hynms", and "Hesiod Theogony: Work and Days."

These books will give you the foundational basics of the gods and their myths, as well as expose you to their cults, epithets, and titles. I know reading sounds like a bore and a task, but nothing feels worse than jumping head first into the religion and worshipping a god you know nothing about.

𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Research. Research. Research. All gods have domains, and the only way you'll find the god suited best for you, is to learn.

Perhaps you know Apollo as a sun and music god. But did you know he's also a god of medicine, with darted arrows that could grant sudden death or cause plagues?

Perhaps you know Ares as the god of bloodthirsty war, but did you know he's also the father of the Amazon-queens? Or the giver of food, as he assisted his newborn son in suckling milk from his dead mother.

The gods all have domains that are incredibly well known, but also far lesser known/popular ones. Learning these can help you decide which god is best suited for your worships.

Absolutely check out theoi.com for information on the individual gods and their domains. It also provides a great starting point for learning their myths, provides texts that pertain to them, and provides a list of their epithets and cult titles.

Yes, the constant research can be daunting and tiresome and boring. But this is the absolute BEST place to start. How will you worship a god you barely understand? How will you know what offerings are favorable to them? But most importantly, how will you be able to build a relationship with a god (kharis) that you barely know?

You can build the most beautiful altar in the world for them, but that altar will become empty decor if you don't know how to (safely) invite a god into the space and worship them properly. These are the fundamentals, and you will have an incredibly hard time getting any sort of fulfillment worshipping an ignored and empty altar.

𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮

A very popular thing beginners like to start with is "deity identification." This involves using a tarot deck, and a (typically) pre-made spread. The spread will assign a meaning to each card (their domain, their personality, what they want to work on with you, etc).

I do not advise this for beginners.

At least, beginners with no background in divination to that degree. There is a vast difference between using tarot to divine messages and advice from spirits and the universe, and using tarot to divine the identification of a god. This requires much more than a basic understanding of tarot, and a god can very easily scramble the card meanings to however they please. This can lead to a lot of confusion and frustration in beginners, as they don't know how to interpret these messages.

Don't focus on identifying a particular god yet. Instead, learn as much as you can and settle on a god you resonate with first. This god may or may not be one you worship for years to come, and it's okay to be cautious when dipping your toes into helpol.

02. The Path of Worship

𝐊𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬

Kharis is defined as "the exchange of goodwill and reciprocity between humans and the divine." It is the relationship you build with your god, and emphasizes the importance of the personal relationship we build with them through devotional acts.

It's asked a lot, "what can I, a regular small mortal, provide to an ancient god? How can I be beneficial to them?" And the answer is simply devotion.

Devotion is what the gods wants, and they enjoy/ indulge in our acts in their names. To give devotion is to recognize the gods as entities deserving of reverence. So how do we do this?

𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐚

Miasma is a sort of "spiritual dirtiness" upon a person, and is something that we as mortal pick up in every day life and is not necessarily considered "bad". It is an aspect that separates us from the divine, who do not collect miasma. It's important to note that this isn't equivalent to the Abrahamic version of "sin". Miasma can (in most cases) be washed away simply by the act of washing your hands. It's stated in quite a few places that one would use khernips for hand washing, although there is a floating beliefs that khernips is "water purifies by fire." Typically considered fire that a torch has been doused in and then used to wash one's hands.

However from the research I've personally done, this is never actually confirmed and khernips is simply clean water that one would wash their hands in.

There is also a belief that those with periods are considered miasmic before the gods and therefore shouldn't worship until 7 days after they stop bleeding.

There is no evidence (to my knowledge) that verifies this and periods are not typically mentioned in ancient Greek texts or sources. It seems to stem from the fact that most bodily fluids are considered miasmic to many of the gods (ie blood, spit, genital secretion such as cum, etc) and should not be offered. However, this does not state that someone on their period cannot approach the gods to provide offerings and worship, so long as the blood is nor being offered.

Certain miasmic impurities cannot be simply washed away, however, such as murder and being around the dead, and may require a purification ritual to be cleansed.

𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Offerings are the sacrifices we make to our gods. They are the gifts we give, and oftentimes tangible displays of our devotion and worship.

Offerings can be a wide range of things and depend on the god's interests, estates, and attributes. Learning a gods preferences will result in favor from them, and builds kharis and report with them.

Its also important to understand what your god doesn't like or enjoy. What is seen as favorable to one god may be offensive and displeasing to another. A very obvious example of this would be offerings between Aphrodite and Artemis. While Aphrodite would be pleased with an accept offerings reminiscent of sexual desire and acts (dedicated sex toys for example), this would be unfavorable to Artemis, a virginal goddess, who has no need nor desire for such things.

Understanding the preferences of your gods is key to providing worthy offerings.

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐬

In addition to offerings, devotional acts are also a large aspect of building kharis. These can be large acts such as cleaning litter from beaches in the name of Poseidon or Amphitrite, or small acts such as devoting washing your face to Aphrodite. This post itself is a devotional act to Lord Hermes, who reveres the spreading and sharing of knowledge.

Devotional acts will fall under the domain of your god, and can be done simply by doing them, in their name.

Once again, ensure that your devotional acts aren't seen as unfavorable to your god. Poseidon will enjoy you donating to sea life preservative charities and beach clean ups, however that same act will be inconsequential to Ares.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐲𝐦𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Prayers are not typically seen as offerings, as an offering is a gift to that god with no expectations. That said, it is common to provide offerings during or after prayers. Prayers are requests and petitions made to a god in asking for assistance, whether that be for help in an issue, advice, help reaching a resolution to something, or even asking for a little extra help or luck throughout the day.

That said, prayers can also be used as offerings if used entirely to praise your god with no added requests. The different would be asking for anything in exchange. Prayers of petitions are not offerings, prayers of praise and reverence are.

If you're curious about the construction of prayers, you can check out my break down of crafting prayers!

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Altars are stations dedicated to your god. They act as designated spots of worship to pray at, make libations, and make offerings.

Whike you may see a lot of altars floating around that are incredibly aesthetic, it's important to know that an altar doesn't have to be large and grand. It can be a dedicated shelf, the corner of a shelf, a shoebox, or even a small mint tin. The point is that it is a place of dedication for your god.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Libations typically preface offerings, although are not required for every single offeding or every single day. But they are wonderful for building kharis as you provide (and in some cases partake in) a drink for the gods. I go in depth on libations, how to do them, and common libations given in this post!

𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Now that you know how to worship, it's important to ensure your worships are recieved. Doing this is simple, and just required you inviting the god into your space. You don't need to do some large invokation like stated in my prayers post, especially if you're just making offerings. A simple "I dedicated this to [god]".

That said, it's always good to invoke properly when dedicating your altar to them. An invocation should include the god's name, and display that you know who they are. You can use epithets, parentage, residences, and domains in your invocations. An example invocation for Zeus could go something like:

"I call upon Zeus, the Supreme and most high. King of kings and head of Olympus, son of Rhea and overthrower of his father Kronos. I invite you into this space, crafted and dedicated to your might and grace."

With this, we have invoked Zeus and designation the altar as his own.

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Communication with a god can be a nerve wracking thing to start, but I can assure you they're not going to bite. There's a myriad of ways to communicate with a god, and its wholly up to you and them to decide what works best. Some people work best with tarot, others with oracle cards. Some prefer pendulums, ouija boards/spirit boards, dice, bones, runes, charm casting, or something else entirely.

If one thing is uncomfortable for you or doesn't seem to be working all too well, simply try something else. I akin it to fiddling with the antenaes of an old TV to try and get a signal from the divine. You have to find the position that simpky works best.

03. Walking the Path of the Gods

As we've discussed research and starting your worships, I want to briefly touch of potential paths that extend past simple devotion and worship. Namely, working with the gods and priestesshood.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝

You'll see the term "deity work" floating around a lot. This refers to working closely with a god for the betterment of yourself and/or your life with that god's assistance. It typically comes after building kharis with that god, and an agreed upon decision to work together.

This typically comes after establishing kharis and worshipping that god, and I personally don't recommend attempting to jump right into it. Deity work is not only energy consuming, but directly calls that god to assist you closely and personally. Attempting to start this and simply walking away because you no longer wish to work with that god is a waste of their time and offensive. Be aware of that god's time, and respect it.

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭/𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

Priest and Priestesshood are something I discuss quite a bit on my page, as a priestess myself. They go beyond simply working with a god, and become working for that god. If you're more interested in the topic, you can check out my post on the topic here ♡

•Common Questions•

Can I as a beginner worship multiple gods?

Absolutely. However I don't personally advise it. I suggest starting with one and getting used to worshipping in general. Then you can decide if you feel comfortable worshipping more.

Why don't you recommend using deity identification spreads?

This is a personal preference of mine, and its because I find them incredibly limiting and stiff. Gods are not the same as normal entities and spirits, and identifying them requires a degree of skill and knowledge of of not only your cards but the gods themselves.

Additionally, I find tarot for deity identification incredibly limiting. While it's phenomenal for communication, I believe tarot in combination with lenormand or oracle cards provide a much better understanding of who's around for identifications.

I got a reading that said X god wants to work with me but I don't think I'm ready. What do I do?

Politely decline. It's far better to ask a god to wait or inform them that you're not ready to take that step, than to trudge into something you're bor confident in. The gods are immortal, and our lives are a drop in the bucket to them. They don't mind waiting for when you are ready, if you'll ever be. You dont have to work with or worship every god that shows an interest in you and its not disrespectful to decline an invitation.

This was a long one! But I hope it's helped provide a decent foundation for you to start your own personal journey into hellenic polytheism. Please never hesitate to reach out with questions, and as always, safe travels ♡

ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸᵒʳᵈ ᴴᵉʳᵐᵉˢ, ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃˢ ᵖʳᵒᵛᶦᵈᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᵗᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰ ᶦⁿ ʰᶦˢ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ. ˣᵃᶦʳᵉ ♡

[yoiisa]

𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

all characters aged up (20+)! mean! Isagi Yoichi smut, AFAB reader, slight choking, hair pulling, rough sex, degredation!

mmmmm i have such bad mean isagi yoichi brainrot rn i can't even!

normally, isagi is so nice to you. he gives you presents, compliments, kisses, and just about everything you could ever possibly ask for, and you love it! he makes you feel like the most perfect person in the whole world, and you couldn't be happier.

but then you go to his games, and the man you see in the jersey is completely different. he's ruthless, hurling insults at the other players left and right. his eyes have a spark in them that ignites something in you as well. to make everything even more confusing, once the two of you reunite after the game, he's completely fine!

a little while later, the two of you are in your apartment, his head on your lap and you playing with his hair. The TV is showing reruns of the match, and you can't help but say, "I've never seen you that mean before."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," he says a bit bashfully, "I can get a little mean, I guess . . . but not to you though."

" . . . shame. I thought it was kinda hot."

before you know it, your on the two of your's bed, getting pounded into from behind. Isagi has his hand on the back of your head, his hands fisted in your hair. you're drooling into your pillow, muffled moans pouring from your mouth.

"Is this what you wanted, hm?" he growls, his hips snapping into your ass. he revels in the way the flesh bounces and he tosses his head back when you clench particularly tightly around his shaft. A low sound emanates in his chest and he chuckles darkly. "Ohhhh~ you fucking slut. You needed this didn't you?"

"yes 'ichi!" he pulls on your hair, tugging your head up from the pillow. He lowers his whole body against yours, his chest flush against your back. "haaahh~ ahhh~ 'ichi . . . i love it . . . ah- harder!"

"ohhh, my fucking girl," he complies and nibbles at your neck. "you're so dirty, coming to all my games, hearing me shit talk my opponents, and all you could think of was me talking to you like that? you wanna be treated like my little slut?"

You nod, and he releases your hair. That same arm snakes around your neck and puts you in a chokehold. "ahhhh- yoichi! I . . . I . . ."

"i know, i know," he coos, "oh, are you gonna come for me baby?"

"yes!" you gasp.

he pushes himself up and twines his fingers again in your hair. He tilts your head back, staring down at your blown out eyes, open mouth, and flushed face. he leans down to kiss your forehead, pausing his ministrations for a brief moment, before straightening to his full height again and continuing to thrust into you.

the sight that meets your eyes now is tantalizing.

isagi is covered in sweat, his face glowing from the sheen of it. his deep blue eyes hold a firey passion in them, his heady gaze ready to light you on fire at any moment. but the cherry on top of it all is the shit eating grin on his face. it pulls his mouth to the right in a smirk and his teeth are bared as he watches your debauched expression. the sight alone is enough to choke a whimper from you.

"c'mon babygirl," he coos, his thumb brushing your chin. "lemme see it. lemme see you come after finally getting what you've been dreaming of."

"'ichi!"

"Fuck!" he roars, feeling your juices soak him. he ruts his hips into you a few more times, trying to drain everything out of you. "That's it! just like that!"

after a few more pumps, he finally finds his release as well, your name escaping his mouth if a roar.

he collapses again against your back, nuzzling into your shoulder blades. he whispers soft words against your skin, but it's mostly incoherent.

finally, once you've regained your sanity, you turn to him. "You can get really mean, huh?" you tease.

He chuckles and shakes his head, a few drops of sweat falling onto you. "Yeah, was it too much?"

You smile and shake your head. You kiss his cheek and nuzzle into his face. "No, it was perfect."

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Hold Me (More Like That)

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, fluff, pre-established relationship, lotta smut (oral m! receiving, p in v sex)

Summary/Warnings: Dean takes a second to pick up on what you want, but doesn't disappoint once he starts to play your game.

Author's Note: Sorta request from an anon! I wanna be thrown around so bad you guys don't even know.

Word Count: 3.3k

“I bet I could beat you in a fight.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“I could.” You push up on Dean’s chest, glaring at him in the shifting light of the TV. “You don’t believe in me.”

A small smile plays on Dean’s lips, but he doesn’t look away from the movie. “Never said that. I’m pretty damn sure I agreed with you-“

“Yeah, but you said sure.” You drop your tone to mimic his, and that gets his attention. “That’s how you say sure when you don’t really agree, Dean, I know you-“

“Alright.” Dean catches your finger as you poke his chest. “I don’t think you could beat me in a fight, baby. You win.”

You whack his chest, and his grin only grows. 

“That what you wanted to hear?”

“You know it’s not-“

“Then you want me to keep lyin’?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, I want you to admit I’d beat you.”

“Okay.” Dean shrugs, kissing your knuckles before turning back to the TV. “You’d beat me. You’d kick my ass, Sammy would have to drive me to the hospital, and- Oof-“

You’d climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and bracing your hands on his shoulders. Dean raises his brows with a half amused, half befuddled expression, and his hands fly to your hips in half a second.

He could push you off—easily, too—but he won’t. 

You really want him to. 

“I bet I could beat you.” You lean down until your noses are almost bumping. “In a fight.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Dean hums your name, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles on the bare skin under your shirt. “What’re you doing?”

You shrug. “Trying to make you take me seriously.”

“I always take you seriously-“

“No. You don’t think I could beat you.”

For a man you know looks for any reason to jump your bones—you’ve seen him walk you back against a wall because the wind blew up your skirt, and he needs to check you’re okay—Dean is impressively confused about what’s happening. He just keeps looking at you in confusion, holding you firm enough by your hips you know he’s not going to take your bait and toss you around. You’re going to have to step it up. 

You love him. He’s adorable and sweet and trying really hard to be a good boyfriend, to the point that you feel sort of bad about what’s about to happen, but you’ll get over it. Call it vengeance for when he tried to prove he could change a tire faster than you could, and it was just an excuse to fuck you on the hood of the car. 

“C’mon.” You drag his hands off your hips, pinning them to the couch, and he doesn’t fight you at all. “I can win, Dean.”

“Yeah, you could-“

“Stop agreeing with me-“

He snorts, putting on a weak, mock show of trying to push out of your grip, but mostly just flexing his arms and making the heat in your core spark. “Look, sweetheart, you’re stronger-“

“I didn’t say I was stronger,” you grind down onto him, disguising it as a just a shift of your body, and Dean’s jaw twitches slightly. “I said I could beat you.”

You grind again, and he lets out a long, slow breath. 

Progress.

“You want the truth, baby?” He gives you a pointed look, still not struggling against you, and you nod. 

“I could-“

“No, you couldn’t.” Dean shrugs, and to sort of obviously prove his point, pushes just one hand out of your hold to wrap around your waist. “Not ‘cause I don’t think you’re strong, or smart, or sexy as fuck when you kick ass. But I would beat you. I’ve beaten Sam, and he’s a fuckin’ Sasquatch. It’s my freakin’ job-“

“It’s my job, too-“

“It’s your job when we’re real short on hands.” Dean eyes narrow, and that was the right button. He doesn’t like the maybe you should hunt more conversation. “And we’re not.”

You raise your brows. “So I couldn’t beat you because I don’t hunt?”

“Yes- No-“ He sighs, hauling you a little further up his chest. “You just couldn’t beat me, baby, I promise-“

“Prove it.”

Dean frowns at you. “What?”

“If you think I can’t beat you.” You grab his arm around you—he lets you move it again, but that’s fine, you don’t actually care about winning—and pin it back down. “Then prove it.”

“I’m not gonna fight you, sweetheart-“

You shrug. “Then I win. And if I can beat Dean Winchester in a fight, maybe I should hunt more-“

That does it. Your words turn into a yelp as Dean flips you over like it’s nothing, pinning your hands over your head and pressing his hips down to keep you pinned to the couch. You have to take a quick breath to stop from caving right away, but you can see his muscles rippling through his shirt and his eyes shamelessly scanning your form below him, and he’s half-hard already and pressed right into your thigh-

“I don’t know what goin’ on with you.” His voice is a half growl, and the sound almost vibrates through your body. “But I can beat you, babygirl. And you fuckin’ hate hunting-“

“Maybe I just miss you when you’re gone,” you challenge, hooking your leg around him and flipping him back over with a grunt. “You always leave me, De, and I get lonely-“

He snorts, standing up with you almost thrown over his should. “I call you every day, smartass, and I never hear you complaining when you cum from just me talkin’ to you.”

“Not the- fuck-“ You’re trying to squirm away as he walks through the halls of the bunker—the movie long forgotten—but it’s not working in your favor. “It’s not the same-“

“Then you can come on a few hunts and stay in the hotel.”

He needs to stop being so rational and sweet. “No, I want to hunt-“

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Dean-“

You squeak as he drops you onto the mattress, standing over you with a glower. 

“You don’t want to hunt,” he grunts your name, grabbing your face between his hands with an adoring, vaguely annoyed expression. “You hate it, you always get mad about blood on your clothing- Hell, you get pissed about blood on my clothing-“

“I’m over it.” You lie quickly, and throw all your weight into pulling Dean down. He lands on the mattress with a grunt, and you crawl back on top of him with a grin. “I can beat you, Dean. You haven’t proven I can’t.”

He shakes his head. “I told you I’m not fighting you, sweetheart-“

“Cause you’ll lose.”

“I-“ His eyes narrow on yours, right as you wiggle slightly, and you know that expression.

You won.

“If I beat you, you drop the hunting thing.”

You nod quickly, and don’t even get the chance to say deal before Dean’s moving. He flips your back over with practiced ease, and he probably could’ve won right there, but you’re determined to put on a mock show. So when his hand go to pin both of yours, you worm then against his chest and shove right into his gut. It catches him off guard, just enough for you to roll away and scramble up onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Dean grunts, and rises up on his knees before dropping onto his side, just enough to knock the wind slightly out of your chest, and pry you off his neck. You try to roll away, but he’s—somehow—faster, and catches you by the waist, hauling you right up into his lap and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand, the other grabbing your jaw to keep your gaze trapped on his. 

And you’ve lost. It was only a few seconds of fighting, but you lost dramatically. 

In Dean’s eyes, at least, you lost.

But you feel a little high, right now. Dean’s big and warm and all around you, touching you everywhere with his chest pressed right against your breasts and his legs wrapped around you to keep you pinned to him. There’s a building, almost mind-numbing ache for him between your thighs, and you can feel his muscles every time he shifts, and he barely out of breath but you’re a giggling, needy mess his arms, and-

You can see the exact moment it hits him. He blinks at you for a second, his grip tightening on your jaw just enough to pull out a tiny, soft moan, and his cock twitches against your leg.

“You’re fucking-“ He cuts himself off with a groan and shake of his head. “Son of a bitch, sweetheart, if you wanted to be fucked, you coulda told me.”

You shake your head, still beaming at him like an idiot. “Better when you mean it. I- I wanna feel you, Dean, please-“

“Please, what?” He hums, squeezing your jaw again, right as he thrusts up against your clothed cunt. “Please fuck you? Toss you around? Or should I make you wait, for giving me a damn heart attack about hunting?”

You flush, and shake your head. “I’m sorry, I just- You weren’t getting it and I- I wanted-“

“I know what you wanted.” Dean shrugs, grinning down at you. “You wanted me to touch you, didn’t you.”

You nod desperately, and he’s so close. His lips brushing over yours, his grip on you tight and perfect and god-

“You wanna touch me, babygirl?” His question is a low, teasing hum, his hips jerking up again to make sure you can feel how hard he is, and a high, needy moan escapes your lips. 

“Dean, please-“

He shakes his head, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Answer the question, sweetheart-“

“Yes- I do, I need it-“

“Yeah, you do.” He mutters, his hand on your jaw dragging down to rest lightly on your throat. “Lie down.”

You scramble back the second Dean lets go of you, settling into the pillows and giving him your prettiest, most hopeful doe-eyed look. He just chuckles, peeling his shirt and jeans at a painfully slow speed, and gives you a pointed expression. He doesn’t have to say it aloud to know what he’s asking. You know him well enough.

“Not those,” he grunts when you go for your panties, the rest of your clothing now discarded onto the floor. “Wanna rip them off you.”

You sigh, pouting up at him, and it hard not to get dizzy from his attention—standing at the edge of the bed, all strength and softness, stroking his cock to the sight of you below him—but you manage. “You always rip them off of me, Dean, I’m going to run out of underwear-“

“Good.” He mutters, starting to prowl over you with an almost feral grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Dean-“

“Don’t worry, baby.” He hums, and your protests about the panties die in your throat as he stops right over you, pressing his thick cock right on your lower lip. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You hum, blinking hopefully up at him as you open your mouth, and he nods. Dean’s hand tangles in your hair as he slides into your mouth, and you moan shamelessly around him, making his hips jerk and his dick press right against the back of your throat. 

“Fuck,” Dean groans your name, and you suck on him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pulls slightly out. “You’re gonna choke, you can’t- Shit-“

It’s too easy to whine and run your tongue up his shaft, and he ruts into your mouth with a groan. 

“God- You’re-“ He glares down at you, and you return it with an innocent expression. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

You just blink at him sweetly, grabbing his thighs, and trying to guide him deeper into your mouth, and his brows raise, his voice suddenly a slight rasp.

“More, baby?” 

You hum, already grinding into the sheets from the feeling of him heavy in your mouth and the intensity of his gaze, and Dean groans. 

“You gotta stop me if it’s too much-“ You swallow around him, and his words turn into a loud moan that goes straight between your legs.

The leash Dean’s been keeping on his movements snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure as he starts to fuck your mouth. You can feel his gaze as the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your chin and his cock sliding in and out of your lips fills the room. Your nails are digging into his thighs, and your breathing is heavy through your nose, but it feels so good.

There’s all the power of him over you, making you lightheaded and your pussy start to clench around nothing every time he groans your name. You can taste the salt of his precum on your tongue whenever you manage to flick it over the head of him, and when you whimper around him, he always pulls all the way out before slamming back it and groaning your name. 

He’s getting close. You can feel it in the growing sloppiness of his thrusts and the tightness of his grip on your hair. So you double your effort and start to suck him off best you can, but all you can really remember how to do is wiggle and moan-

Dean pulls aways with groan, and your eyes flutter open to see him looking down at you with borderline wonder, his arm braced on the headboard above you and his chest heaving.

“You’re too good at that.” He mutters, moving his hand from your hair to wipe a little bit of drool over your cheek. “Almost came in your mouth, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth again, sticking your tongue out, and he groans, leaning back with a shake of his head. 

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts, shifting so your caged below his arms, his brow pressed against yours. “I’m gonna make you cum ‘till you can’t walk, baby. That sound good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, spreading your legs as wide as you can. “Good. Touch me, Dean, I- I need you-“

“I know you do.” Rough, warm fingers dance on your panties, teasing on your inner thigh for a second before ripping them away, and running over your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, babygirl, need it that bad?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes, please-“

Dean cuts you off with a long, sloppy kiss, and you gasp his name into his mouth, grinding onto the palm of his hand in chance of any relief.

“You wanna try and wrestle again?” He hums, rubbing his hand right over your clit. “Or you gonna let me take care of my girl.”

“Take care.” Your voice is barely a breath, but you might fly out of your mind if he doesn’t really, properly fuck you. “Dean, your cock, I need it-“

His hand moves away, but you don’t get a moment to complain before Dean’s shoving himself into you with one rough movement, and your back is arching off the bed.

“That’s right, baby.” His voice is a teasing coo, but you don’t really care. He’s earned it, and it feels so good, being filled up and split open with him all over you and kissing up your neck- “You’re so fuckin’ tight, son of a bitch-“

“Dean.” You gasp, and his mouth crashes back over yours, kissing you into the pillows until you’re limp in his arms, only fluttering desperately around his cock. “Move-“

He groans into your mouth, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slams into you. You wrap your arms around him tight enough to strangle him, just he doesn’t even flinch, just moaning your name and repeating the movement once more. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, then starts to fuck you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. 

Sometimes, Dean likes to sit up and watch you come apart below him, or flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. But he knows what you need right now is to just keep feeling him, everywhere, and he’s perfect so that’s exactly what he gives you. Almost holding you off the mattress like it’s nothing, fucking into your pussy with a feverish pace, until your head is falling back with pleasure as he hits that deep, painfully needy spot deep inside you. 

His lips attach to your throat, biting and sucking small marks that make your mouth fall open in a silent scream, and your start to grind onto him. Trying to get your clit to rub on his abdomen, because you’re so fucking close-

Dean grabs your ankles, shifting your around below him without ever breaking pace, and only once you’re securely hanging off his body does his arm wrap around your waist and-

You spasm as his fingers find your clit and start to rub tight, firm circles, and you cum with a scream of his name. He just groans, fucking into you harder as you spasm around his cock, and you’re not coming down. Dean pushes your back down onto the mattress, slams his lips back over yours and angling your hips further up, and you stare up at him as he just keeps fucking you. Your orgasm crests into another one, and there’s a strange, new heat building in your core that’s hot and tight, and-

Dean slams hip hips at the right angle to almost bruise your g-spot, right as his fingers on your clit pinch, and your body goes loose as the coil snaps. Something wet is gushing out of you and running between your legs, and Dean’s jaw is clenched as he drops his brow to yours, his eyes fluttering as he tenses over you.

“Dean.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair. “Please. On me.”

He stares at you for barely a second before giving a tight nod, and sitting up on his knees. He pulls out with his hand braced on your hip, and it’s a beautiful sight. Dean beating his cock into his hand at the sight of you wrecked and fucked out, thick white cum shooting over your stomach and cunt as he cums with a moan of your name. 

He collapses over you with a grunt, and you hum happily, your fingers shooting into his hair. 

“That what you wanted, baby?” He hums into your ear, and you nod.

“Perfect. Thank you, my love.” 

He grunts as your kiss the side of his head, shifting down to bury his face between your breasts. 

“Love you too.” He grumbles, wrapping his around your body, and you beam up at the ceiling. “Even when you play dumb tricks.”

“I think you liked that trick.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But next time, just freakin’ ask me to fuck you stupid.”

You hum. “Dean?”

He grunts, and you tug on his hair, forcing his gaze up to yours. 

“Can you fuck me stupid.”

His lips twitch and he grabs your hand, turning it to press a kiss to your palm. “Jesus, sweetheart-“

“Please?” You flutter your lashes at him, and he sighs. 

“Gimme ten. In the shower?”

You give him an amused look. “You just wanna cum on me again.”

“Yep.” He grins up at you. “You love it.”

“I do.” You mumble. “But you like it when I play dumb tricks.”

He rolls his eyes, but hauls your upright, standing with you cradled in his arms and a kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart. But I think I just like you.”

End Note: It's probably good for my productiveness that Dean isn't real. I'd never get anything done again.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Buy me a coffee!☕️

Taglist (Fill out this form to be added!)

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378 @godhelpthisbtch

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @sleepykittycx @immastealurkneecaps @star-yawnznn @maddie0101

@chi-raz @lori19 @wynnthewynnderful @redwinexsupernova @tiana-kh

@woaheasytig3r @canibeyourghoulfriend @lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey

@and-i-wish @jsudsgf @fullbelieverheart @wowzabowza69 @bonbonnie88

@pillowjj @barnes70stark @kamisobsessed @happyfxckinghorrors @deans-yn

@jofinka