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quarterlifekitty · 5 months ago

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Follow up to this post (sorryyyyyy this took like 300000 years) Simon Riley/Reader

You glance down at the list on your phone, slowly ambling along with the shopping trolley while Joey directs all of his focus towards the little tupperware of yogurt melts in the cupholder. He picks up another piece with his tiny thumb and forefinger, pushing it into his mouth and teething as is starts to dissolve. You could always trust him with food— ever since he'd been old enough to hold onto his snacks. He'd never spit things out or throw them to the floor. Simon never wasted food either.

A sigh leaves your lips as you're forced to recon with the price of cold medicine. You know you should get it now— it's snowing out, and it's be a pain in the ass to be caught without it. Well, you could probably make do, but you'd count yourself as a bad mama if you didn't at least keep some of the stuff for infants stocked. In the cart it goes, ticking up the total you're keeping in your head.

Joey makes a gurgle the calls your attention. You could be imagining it, but it seems like his hair is getting a little lighter— maybe he's taking after his father? The same dark eyes, too. You smile when you see him and all of the tiny little ways he's growing every day. But can't help but wonder if Simon might've stayed— if he'd known you were going to have such a pretty, sweet baby. Nothing short of angelic.

-x-

You look different. Of course, it wasn't as if Simon had expected you to look exactly the same. Truthfully, he wasn't expecting to see you ever again. You look, somehow, more beautiful than he remembered. Tired, but beautiful. The cute little fella in your cart doesn't hurt. While he knew he coudln't be the one to give them to you, he'd always known any baby that came from you would be gorgeous.

He wants to be happy that you'd found someone who could give you that. Someone who must've wanted the same thing you wanted. A better man than him, almost assuredly. He tugs the hood of his jacket up, as if that'll make his brick shithouse of a body any less conspicuous— he's wearing all black against the painful white of the flourescent light and linoleum floor. The jarring beep from the card reader you're using jerks him out of his self consciousness.

-x-

Fuck. Your paycheck must not've cleared just yet. You'd thought for sure it had, but you'd been wrong before and you'd be wrong again before the day was out, most likely. It was embarassing enough to have a card decline when you were alone, but with a baby in your cart? You hope to god no one's looking at you and thinking about calling social services. Just as you're about to take the world's deepest breathe to suck up what could potentially be a torrent of tears, a pale, tattoed arm glides into view and taps a beaten-up piece of plastic to the reader. You turn to see a familiar set of dark eyes perched above a black facemask.

You stutter out an unsteady th-thank you, almost in a daze. Joey picks that moment to mumble some vague simulacrum of the syllables you'd utter, trying to copy the intonation.

Simon had never been a chatterbox. Sometimes it was a relief, and sometimes it was agonizing. The silence that accompanies the three of you as he follows you to your car is somehow both. You put Joey, all bundled with his tiny striped hat pulled tight over his ears, into his car seat before anything else. Simon's already popped your trunk and started putting bags inside.

You walk around and turn the ignition, just to get the heat going for baby. And—

… there's nothing. You feel like the sound you release in frustration echoes in the snowy car park.

-x-

The energy in Simon's car was tense. He'd offered to jumpstart yours, of course, but you didn't want to have your baby waiting around in his car while you tried to make it work. Seemed a better option to just strap his car seat into Simon's car and have him drive you home. You'd go back for your car another time.

Meanwhile, Simon's starting to get more and more furious with whoever the father in this scenario is. It was becoming clearer and clearer that he wasn't in the picture— and why the hell not? You're beautiful, the baby is an angel— even if he hadn't been cut out for fatherhood, how could he do this to you? Leave the mother of his child without enough for groceries, and with that shitbox of a car? Before he knows it, Simon has a growing to-do list in his mind. Once he's got you home, he's going on a hunt.

Home. It wasn't his home anymore. You had gotten despondent, nervous, and he was terrified of not being what you wanted, what you needed.

He carries the groceries in for you, of course. He feels transfixed as he watches you handle your baby, setting him on you hip in a well-practiced motion while you dig out your keys and jam them into the lock. Must still be sticky, like it was when he left. Whether Simon knew it or not, he'd find himself offering to tend to that too.

You set Joey down on the old recliner by the door, tugging off his tiny boots, hat, and other winter accoutrements. They go onto the coatrack, though their size makes it look a little ridiculous. Like you have a fucking build-a-bear for a roommate. The empty hook stares back at Simon.

While you set your baby in his play pen, Simon finds himself falling into old habits. Putting away the groceries. Everything is more or less in the same place. There's a feeling in his diaphragm that wells up, empty and sorrowful at the knowledge none of this belongs to him, and as soon as these things are away, he should leave. Maybe threaten the landlord on his way out regarding the lock.

"I'm going to put on a cup of tea. Do you want one?"

He nods, feeling his words catch in his throat. You don't bother to ask him if he takes it the same way you remember. Some things never change.

The little table in the kitchen still has a slight wobble. He tags it in his mind as something that needs to be fixed. That mental list is a long one. Before long, you have a mug and an opened pack of Arnott's assorted biscuits in front of him. There's more scotch fingers than anything else. You never used to leave them for last.

When you're sat in front of him, after a few deep breaths and sips of your black tea (he'd watched you add the same metric fuckton of honey you always did), Simon finds himself feeling uncharacteristically… chatty. He has a million questions, most of which have answers that would probably hurt you to say and hurt him to hear.

"I don't know how to thank you… For the groceries, the ride, all of it. I'm not sure what I would've done. I wish there was more I could offer."

If you had to guess what he'd want in exchange for his kindness, you'd guess he'd want to be left alone. That you'd let him leave quietly again. But you don't know how to offer that without it sounding backhanded. He casts his gaze over to the playpen for a moment, and you follow it.

"'Ow old is he?" The question catches you off guard. It occurs to you for the first time that Simon might not know this is his baby.

"Eight months. His first birthday will be in March." He squints as if his eyes have the ability to zoom, watching as your son sucks on some silicone teething keys.

"Woulda thought he was… younger."

"He's kinda small. He was born premature and he still hasn't really caught up to where he's supposed to be, weight wise. But he's healthy otherwise. His name is Joseph, but I call him Joey. Hi Joey-bear," you say, waving towards the playpen as your baby gurgles happily. That's one thing he doesn't share with his father— the expressiveness.

Then again, Simon's currently got a look of concentration on his face as if he's helping mission control launch a rocket. He's doing mental math. And he suddenly feels ready to kick his own ass.

Premature. And you were alone.

"So he's mine." It's not a question. He may not have wanted to be a father, but he did love you. He trusted you. The baby couldn't have been anyone else's given the timing.

"Yes, he is. Biologically, at least." His jaw aches from how he clenches it.

"When did you find out that you were pregnant?"

"A few weeks before you left. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, and… I knew that the way you left… Well, you didn't leave like someone who wanted to be found."

He wants to ask why you didn't go after him. Call him up and tell him what a bastard he was and that he left you on your own with a baby. But he knows goddamn well why you didn't tell him.

Because you didn't think he'd want to know. That he wouldn't have wanted to help. That if he did come back to take responsibility that he'd end up hating you for trapping him and forcing him to turn into something he didn't want to be.

And you named the damned thing Joseph. He'd never told you about Joseph. What a way for fate to twist the long glass shard stabbed into his gut. It shatters from the torque and leaves a thousand little pieces churning inside him with infinite sharp edges grinding together.

"I always kind of had the feeling that you'd leave. At least this way… it was like I could hold onto a part of you."

Joey picks that moment to whine, starting to get fussy and squirming. You nearly spring up, speeding over to the playpen to lift him up and bounce him with a palm to his back. Simon gets an agonizingly good look at Joey's face while his head is perched on your shoulder, your back to the kitchen. He can't see himself in his face. Just you. Nervous-lipped and innocent.

And fuck, you just look like such a goddamn natural handling his son. That's the only way he can see it now.

"I have to— I'm gonna put him down for a nap, I think he's a little cranky. I'll be right back but, I… I don't want to keep you. Thank you again, Simon," you force out with the littlest crack in your voice, but it seems enormous to him.

The dark circles, the declined card, your car, the lock on your front door, and you're giving him an out. A chance to leave and forget this ever happened offered up on a silver platter. He follows you to the tiny spare room he used to use as some mockery of an at-home office. Now it's a rather quickly assembled nursery. All of it you'd done on your own.

The walls are yellow. There are pock marks from the way things had been mounted on the wall, before. Must've been in a rush to get things ready, hadn't had time to fill them in. He didn't need to know that you cried when the paint wouldn't fill in the gaps, not that you'd expected it to. It was just one of those days where you wanted something impossible to happen because it would've made life a little easier to bear.

You shush and coo at Joey, wrapping him up in his favorite blanket to help him settle. You scoop a plush lion off of the floor to tuck into his arms as soon as you set him down.

"Such a big day for my big guy," you say softly, "I'm sorry your mama keeps getting into trouble." You kiss your pointer and middle fingers, touching them to his forehead as he loses the fight to keep his eyes open. You gasp when you feel the once-familiar sensation of Simon's calloused hand slipping over yours. He pulls you, urges you, into the hall, softly shutting the door behind himself.

You're pulled against him as his restraint reaches its end, mouth hungry and wanting, the welling pit inside him black and empty without the thrum of your pulse beneath his fingertips. He always was a nasty kisser— tongue running against your gums and tracing your teeth. Saliva strings between your panting mouths by the time he pulls away. You just barely manage to wrangle your synapses enough to swallow and clear your throat before speaking.

"Simon. We shouldn't— I won't do this. I can't. I can't handle having you for a night and being alone again. You can forget today happened if you want, forget that you ever found out about us, just don't do this to me."

"You wan' me on my hands and knees, then?" Your brows twist in a pained confusion.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I'll beg. I'll beg if that's what it takes. If you let me be a part of this."

"A part of this what?"

"This family. I want it."

"You said you didn't—"

"I thought I didn't. I've never wanted to take something back more than that. I didn't… Didn't think anything that came from me could be good. Guess I forgot about your part of the equation. I left because I'm a fucking idiot and a coward. I thought you wanted me to be something I couldn't be." His hand circles the meat of your hip, thumb inching up the hem of your sweater. He feels a few more stretch marks than there were before. You grab his wrist as if to pull him away on instinct, but pause.

"I don't… It's not cute. How my body changed, that is. I don't… I don't think you'll find me all that attractive anymore." Rip out his heart and stomp on it, why don't you? You say it without a hint of bitterness. It wouldn't have hurt so bad if there'd been some venom in it, at least. But no, you say it like it's a fact. Plain and simple.

"Sayin' shite like that… S' like you want me to knock you up again to prove you wrong. Can't believe I missed out on seein' you all full and pregnant… I shoulda been here. Taking care of you."

It's hard not to melt against him. It always was. He's warm and encompassing and makes you feel sheltered.

"You have to promise you won't leave again. Not me, and not him." You've already pressed your cheek to the breast of his jacket. You don't know how you'll be able to live without this— if he decides it a promise he can't make.

He wants to tell you that you have cart blanche to kill him in whatever way you find most suitable if he does something that fucking stupid, but he knows that wouldn't make you happy right now.

"I promise, love. Never again."

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #sorrryyyyy abrupt ending i hate writing long thingssss #secret baby

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syluss-littlecrow · 7 months ago

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night of secrecy

the extension of Nights of Secrecy card by syluss-littlecrow ♥️

warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, steamy fucking, pussy eating, overstimulation, orgasms for sure, Sylus should be a whole ass warning by himself!, extension scenes for LADS card, canon events (TO ME!!!),

a/n: I'm back!!! At least for now... Also happy new year my little crows. I apologise for the extreme inactivity. Life caught me by the throat and flung me unfortunately not into Sylus's arms 😔🙏🏻 nonetheless, I was the happiest person on earth when we finally, FINALLY, got a spicy card for Sylus!! It was... WOO. definitely needed to extend the in-between scenes because thats what I wanted and y'all are suffering with me. Love you all as always and take care ♥️ also! Please give me a while to go through my inbox!! I'll try to answer your messages as much as I can! 🙏🏻

w/c: 2.8K

“Looks like we’re on the same page on not wanting to waste time.”

His voice pulled your attention back to him. You watch the way his eyes are pretty much devouring you whole, and you've suddenly forgotten what he tastes like. And obviously, you’re ready to go in for seconds.

Your mind is slowly clouding from the desire seeping into your veins. The intensity of Sylus’s gaze on you suddenly dawn's onto you and you're briefly distracted by the snow pattering against the windows, your gaze grazing the midnight sky with snow looking like glitter, dousing the whole area outside of the warmth you're enveloped in.

Before you realise it, Sylus snaps your attention back to him.

Your eyes are back on him, and the way he's staring right into you sends you fucking shivers.

“Don't get distracted at a time like this, kitten.”

Your hands wrap around his neck and you yank him closer, not missing the way Sylus’s eyes widen for a split second before he’s tasting you again.

God, you taste so fucking good.

The kisses grow deeper and more desperate, just like the first round on the couch, but this time, Sylus wants to make sure he's the one eating you whole. You let soft moans slip out between exchanging tastes, and you hear Sylus take a deep inhale. He’s got his weight pressed onto you, but he's trying not to crush you, and you feel his thick cock pressing hard against the inner of your thigh.

Who's gonna drive who crazy first?

The silk bedding beneath you only grows warmer, completely taken over the heat both of you are emitting.

“No looking.”

His palm blocks your vision, shutting off your sight, the intensity of your other senses slowly setting ablaze.

His kisses are relentless, sprinkled with soft bites along your bottom lip. His fingers find yours on the bed, tightening your grip, his moans and breathing growing in intensity against your lips. You want to keep this sensation and him in a jar and lock it up forever.

Sylus lifts his palm off your eyes, knowing he's had his fill for now and knowing that he has you soaked and sticky, he watches you catch your breath, your eyes in a daze. The faint smear of your lipstick on his lips from ruining yours catches your attention.

Maybe you should wear red lipstick more often.

His eyes are back on you now, his breathing still heavy. Even though the lights are dim and warm, the way you have his cheeks dusted with red all the way to his ears makes your heartbeat accelerate. You've never come this close to seeing the leader of Onychinus look like this.

Your fingers trace below his left eye, and a rush of possessiveness bleeds through your words, barely a whisper.

“Am I being too greedy…if I want you to keep your eyes only on me?”

A soft chuckle comes out of Sylus. He catches your wrist before it falls and presses his lips gently against your palm before he locks his eyes with you again

“You've always had that right. Which means you could be even greedier.”

And his lips dive for your cheek, and trails down to your jawline, and down to your neck, setting the patches of skin he kisses ablaze. He bites and sucks, making sure he leaves his mark, hiding his satisfaction whenever he hears you whine his name.

You feel the warmth of his palm slide down your thigh, and it gives you goosebumps. You watch the way he kisses the top of your knee as he lets his fingers trail lower down.

“Do you want it, kitten?”

The “yes” that spills out of your lips almost instantaneously draws a smirk from Sylus. He's ready to leave your clothes in pieces. But your palm presses against his bare chest just before he gets a chance to go further, as if stopping him. Sylus pouts slightly, grabbing your thighs once more.

“You haven't changed your mind, have you? You just said yes?”

Only when he catches the playful grin you wear that he realises that you're painfully teasing him. Nonetheless, he plays along with you–spoiling you with kisses as he pulls you by your legs closer to him.

“I'm hoping your answer is still yes…”, he mutters, switching his gaze between you and your supple thighs.

“…because I'm not holding back anymore.”

His fingers hook the waistband of your panties, and he slides it off your legs, his lips curled in a satisfied smile when notices the glistening sheen of your panties.

He thinks you're so fucking pretty when you're unraveled and wet for him.

Sylus has his palms pushing your legs apart, his attention now on your soaked pussy, practically inviting him for a taste.

He presses his lips against your pussy lips, his tongue then gliding up and down, brushing against your clit, over and over. You hate how he's so perfectly precise at finding your weakest spots. But then again, you let him into your territory, and that's your problem to enjoy.

Your breathing gradually staggers, your fingers curling against the soft white locks of his hair. Sylus is forcing your hips to stay onto the bed while he fucks you with his tongue. He hears you whimpering his name every time his tongue flicks against your clit, the pleasure shooting up your spine over and over again.

“S-Sylus..”, you mumble, your pussy pulsating once more when he sucks on your clit. “Gonna cum. Fuck.”

Sylus doesn't directly respond to you, but rather, his fingers that aren't holding your lower body down circles the entrance of your soft pussy, and then he pushes his fingers in.

You gasp, your body jolts slightly from the pressure. Now you're clawing the bedsheets and your moans pour out of you freely, competing with the squelching and wet sounds coming from your cunt.

His muffled moans vibrate against your cunt, as if beckoning you to just let it all out, and it drives you over the edge topped with his fingers fucking your pussy, long enough to hit your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, fuck! Sylus I'm cumming-”, cutting off when your orgasm hits you fucking hard in waves, the pleasure tingling down your spine, your mind in a beautiful, horny mess, only filled with Sylus.

Only when your body settles down, and your legs snap together by instinct, does Sylus slowly lift his messy lips off you, and his fingers, covered in your cream, staining the red bedding in the process.

He really pulled every single orgasm out of you–you’re left catching your breath, and trying to stop your thighs from shaking.

In a haze, you watch Sylus drop his shirt onto the floor, his fingers unbuttoning his pants impatiently. He slides both apparels off swiftly, letting his thick cock free from the fabric tightness.

You swallow at the size of him, but at the same time, you just really want him to fuck the thoughts out of you so fucking bad.

Sylus combs his hair back, the red flush on his face growing more obvious.

Then he's back to distracting you with his kisses down your thighs, slowly going back up to your lips, not forgetting to give your tits a nice squeeze.

You feel his cock brush against your pussy, drips of his precum mixing into your mess.

Your fingers stroke his hair as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold metal of his necklace pressing onto you, and it's definitely heating up.

His lips hover near your ear.

“Could I, kitten? Please?” It almost comes off as a beg and it tickles you ears so good.

Honestly you couldn't say no even if you wanted to, you're as hungry for him as he is for you.

You push him away. For a second, Sylus is ready to cease in case you really aren't ready.

Instead, you slowly spread your legs once more in front of him, the initial shyness replaced by boldness.

“It's all for you Sylus. Didn't you say I could be greedier?”

Sylus knows he's the luckiest man in the fucking world.

He bends and pushes your legs, almost folding you into half. His cock is lined right at your pussy hole, almost teasing you. But before any words could come out of your mouth, he pushes in, filling you instantly, stretching your hole open. You take a sharp inhale, grasping Sylus’s outstretched hand, and Sylus pauses, waiting for you to adjust, even though he's only half way in.

“You're so fucking tight for me, kitten. I'm only half way in.”

You squeeze his hand in retaliation, and Sylus is amused by the pout you wear on your face.

“You're too big..” you mutter.

Sylus only chuckles, stroking your thighs in an attempt to comfort you.

He feels you relax, but he watches for your reactions, and when you give him the green light, he stretches you out with the remainder of his length, knocking the wind out of you. He leans in, mostly hovering over you so he doesn't crush you with his weight.

“You gotta let me in, sweetie. You're squeezing me a little too good here”, he teases, his lips trailing down your neck.

You're practically breathless and filled to the brim. It feels like fucking heaven–squeezing against his cock and hearing Sylus gasp when you tighten around him.

You catch his lips with your palm when he's about to bite against the skin there.

“No biting here.”

His hands release your thighs at the same time, instead, taking both your wrists above you and holding them down with one hand.

“First you want it rough, now you want it soft. Aren't you a hard one to please tonight, kitten?”

He opts for kisses instead, and it melts into your skin, once again sending shivers.

“Why won't you be a good girl and tell me what you want you really want kitten?”

The way he's calling you a good girl with a voice velvet and drizzled in honey sends you shivers.

“I'm not falling for your tricks…” you mumble.

Sylus kisses your ear and his low groans whenever he feels you tighten around him.

“Then I'll start moving, kitten.”

You nod. Unfortunately, your hands are still bound above you, so that's the most you could do.

When Sylus begins thrusting slowly in and out of you, your mind slowly goes blank. All that's flooding in is how fucking good he feels in you. Your greed grows into a bottomless hole at an exponential speed. His name spills from your lips like a mantra, and you call him over and over again, sometimes getting cut off with a moan when he hits the perfect spot.

“I love it so much when you call my name, sweetie. It sounds like heaven in my ears.” He's barely able to form his sentence when you squeeze him again, sucking him back into the endless rounds of euphoria.

“Feels good. Sylus, you feel so good,” you whimper, realising you're letting yourself get lost into his heat. You feel him smile against your skin while he presses more kisses all over your face and neck. He pulls out momentarily, leaving you empty and slightly frustrated.

The tension builds, and he releases your hands in the midst of his kisses, letting you switch positions–landing yourself above him.

Your ego swells up slightly when Sylus casts you a suprised expression. But it quickly turns into a smile.

“Ah, so what you wanted was control?”

His cock is just resting right at your ass and you feel the warm, sticky fluids slide right down to your pussy.

You watch him lick his lips.

“Unfortunately, I can't give it to you”, he says. “At least, not yet.”

His hands glide upwards to the round of your ass, pressing his cock right at your pussy hole.

You lift your hips slightly, his cock pushing into you the second time, with much less resistance thanks to how wet the both of you got. It still takes your breath away when he fills you up. You swear he's bulging in you.

Sylus’s warm hands rub circles from your hip to your waist to soothe you, despite the fact that he almost could break just from watch you take his cock right in front of him.

“That’s my good girl. You're taking all of me so well.”

Your mind is threatening to fall apart from the pleasure once more. It's dizzy and thick, building a thick haze in your mind once more.

You lift your hips and he pushes you down, his cock filling you up again.

And soon enough, you're bouncing on his cock.

His grip on your waist is firm yet tender. He guides your hips, and peppers words of encouragement while he fucks you from below.

“That's it, kitten. Like that. Just for me.”

“Feels good hm? Of course it does. Look at your pretty fucked out face.”

“Good girl–hng–! you're such a good fucking girl for me.”

You watch the ways his eyebrows knit in pleasure. At times, he’d barely have his eyes open, from the way he's doing everything in his power not to explode in you. Not yet. He wants to be a little more greedier.

Maybe just a little more. He doesn't want it to end so quickly.

After all, greed can't be satisfied. Only momentarily.

Sylus knows that all too well. And god forbid he'd keep you locked up in here with him as long as he wanted.

Shit. You're taking so much from him and it feels so fucking amazing.

Your thighs are trembling from riding Sylus. It's too much yet not enough at the same time. His thickness presses against your g-spot endlessly, and Sylus swallows hard when you throw your head back, the sweat trickling down your neck, past your tits, all the way down, while your whole body shakes in sheer pleasure, accompanied by the obscene wet noises.

“Look at me, kitten.” His voice lures you back to him, like it always does.

You make eye contact with him, your eyes so pretty and glazed, as if in a spell. Under his spell.

“How are you feeling?” His finger traces down your chin.

“So full. I’m feeling so full of you”, you manage to reply, lifting your hips, letting Sylus see the full view of the wet, creamy, sticky mess you've made on his cock. You still have the rest of him stuffed deep in you, and you're not lasting any longer.

Every thrust he pushes into you drives you closer to the edge a second time.

Sylus groans and bucks his hips when you lower yourself on him once more. At this moment, he realises nothing in this world could be better than this.

“Feels weird, Sylus”, you mutter, pulling your pussy lips to take more of him in. You're grinding slightly more desperately, the tension builds. Fuck, you're gonna cum again.

The sounds of skin slapping only grow wetter, thicker and louder. Sylus bites his lip when he feels you go tight on him, his hands now on your ass, taking a handful and guiding you to fucking him.

“Fuck. Feels so good, kitten. You're gonna cum all over me?”

Too delirious, soaked in complete pleasure and begging to chase the high, you nod.

He listens to you sob and cry when your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering all over his dick. Sylus cups your cheeks and pulls you in for another wet and messy kiss.

“Cumming too, kitten. Be a good girl and take it all.”

Unfortunately he doesn't give you a chance to answer, mostly because you have your tongue out for him to devour and he doesn't hesitate. His low moans flood through your ears, his warm and thick cum filling you up so much that it leaks out of you before he pulls out.

He hears you squeal but the sounds of wet kisses override it, and he still makes you bounce off his cock until he's satisfied with emptying everything in you.

The air is thick and still for a moment when the both of you pull away, pants filling up the room.

The both of you have red flushed on your cheeks. His grip on you loosens. Instead you move in for a kiss on his forehead, which takes him by surprise.

In the second, he realises how much he adores you.

You're his first love, and you'll be his last.

Your phone pings in the middle of the day, just as you reached home after dropping Sylus off from cleaning up his mission.

There are two messages–one from Sylus and one from…Luke and Kieran?

The message preview from Sylus stating to call him when you're home safe. But your curiousity is piqued with Luke’s message. Before you could respond, Kieran’s messages pops into the groupchat with the three of you in. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at first, but then you laugh it off.

Luke: Did you know if something happen to boss-man? I've never seen him glow like this before.

Kieran: holy shit he actually smiled and greeted us when he came in 🤔 is the world ending?

#l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut

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vunblr · 3 months ago

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Lush.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected Sex. Some fluff. Slight Angst. Body Insecurity (Bucky). Size kink. Use of pet names. Finger sucking.

Summary: After Bucky is reminded by an offending shirt that his body isn't what it used to be, Sugarplum finds just the right way to get him out of his head.

Word Count: 4.1k.

notes: This fic can be read as a standalone, but is a filthy follow-up of Plump and Ripe.

This is one of the works I'm submitting for the @avengers-assemble-bingo Kinky Bingo. The prompt was "Finger Sucking". Plot? what plot? Card number KB-014.

Bucky hadn’t dropped a pound. Not for lack of trying, he trained harder, ran longer, even made peace with the sad green smoothies Sam brought every time they met. But his body, thanks to that failed mission that ended up with him as a Hydra guinea pig again, held on to every soft part of flesh like it was fighting him. A year into dating her, though, he found out sometimes he didn’t care as much. Not when she looked at him the way she did. Not when her house smelled like cherries and safety, and her couch had his dent from where he always sat. These days, his apartment felt more like a storage unit, and her place up the fruit shop felt like home.

He grunted softly as he tugged off his stained henley, damp with sauce. He’d gotten too invested in his cheat food again. Messy, handheld, and completely worth the ruined shirt. But now, standing in her bedroom, digging through the drawer where she kept a few of his spare clothes, his mood began to sour.

He pulled on a clean henley, only to feel it tighter than he remembered around his midsection. His brows knit together. One thing was not losing weight -he could live with that- but fattening up? After an entire month of forcing down more salads and adding another damn routine to his training? He stared at his reflection, pressing his lips into a thin, flat line.

He tugged the shirt down again, trying to smooth out the way it clung around his stomach. The fabric bunched at his sides, tighter than it had been a few weeks ago, and definitely tighter than last month. It wasn’t just the damn stain from lunch anymore. It was the way this shirt used to be loose at some places, and now clung to his body like it was afraid to let go. He sighed through his nose and padded toward the kitchen.

Three hours. In three hours, he’d have to head back to his place, grab his gear, and suit up for a long mission with Sam. He glanced at the clock and grimaced. He was already dreading the way his tactical belt would pinch. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it would click shut this time.

The front door creaking open snapped him out of the spiral. He instinctively straightened his back, like he could somehow stretch himself leaner in the next five seconds.

She walked in, hanging up her coat, and saw his expression. “Hey, handsome.” Her voice was soft and warm, the way it always was, happy to see him.

He forced one of those weird, practiced smiles that don’t fool anyone and never quite reach his eyes. “Hey.”

Her brow furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Sam threw some last-minute intel at you?”

“No.” He kept the smile in place, but it wobbled under her gaze.

She didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t. She crossed the room without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tensed, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because he felt it. The soft give of his belly pressed right into her body, and the henley pulled tighter on him with the movement. Too tight. Obvious. Pathetic.

His jaw clenched as he tried to hide the flinch, but she felt the tension in his body. She leaned back just enough to look up at him.

“What is it, gummybear?” she asked, gently. It was affectionate, but it felt like a slap to his pride.

Gummybear. Chewy. Squishy. Sweet, maybe, but soft. He used to be called a weapon. Even ��Papa-bear” carried a bit of strength or manliness to it. But gummy? Christ. He pressed his lips into a thin line, not trusting himself to speak without the shame curling up his throat.

She felt it. Subtle, but unmistakable. The way he sucked in his stomach the moment her arms closed around him. The involuntary reflex of a man trying to shrink himself, to hide his body.

So it was one of those days. She sighed softly against his chest but didn’t call him out. She never did.

Instead, she nuzzled into him, sliding her palms up his sides, slowly and deliberately, skimming over the tension in his torso until they rested on his chest. She stopped there, spreading her fingers over the firm muscle of his pecs before curling behind his neck.

“You know, Buck,” she murmured, pressing herself closer until every inch of her body molded against him, “I’m really gonna miss you these next few days.”

He stiffened a little, but did not pull away. Still stuck in his head.

She pressed a kiss to his collarbone and let her voice drop into something softer. Needier. “And I was thinking that maybe…”

Her hand slid down the curve of his back and gave a firm, affectionate squeeze to his ass. He jerked slightly, startled, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Maybe you can give me a little something as a parting gift.”

“W-what kind of gift?” his voice rasped slightly, unsure if he was supposed to laugh or groan.

“Oh, I don’t know…” She rose onto her toes, brushing the shell of his ear with her lips. “Maybe you can fuck me so stupid I’ll be thinking about it the whole time you’re gone.”

The tips of his ears were going red. She could feel the way his pulse jumped beneath her fingers, the way his hands hovered uselessly at her sides for a second before finding a place to rest, one on her lower back, the other clutching her hip.

“Shit,” he muttered. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Her smile was smug against his throat. “Sure I can. I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, like he still couldn’t believe that was real. He leaned back just enough to look at her. His brow furrowed, that stormy look creeping back in, until she cupped his cheek.

“Don’t go inside your head,” she whispered. “Stay with me. Right here.”

That did it. His shoulders dropped slightly, and the tension drained out in a slow exhale. His thumb traced a lazy circle over her hip, rough pad dragging over the cotton of her tee.

“I don’t think I can make you stupid,” he mumbled, trying for humor and failing adorably. “But I can try to make you remember me.”

She grinned, tugging him closer by the collar of his too-tight henley. “That’s the spirit, Sarge.”

He groaned under his breath, half a laugh and half a curse, but bent to kiss her anyway, deep and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Like he wanted this to last her through every single mile he had to put between them.

Her words still echoed in his ears. Fuck me so stupid. She always knew exactly how to get to him, how to twist his insecurities into afterthoughts with just a few words and the warmth of her body pressed against him.

His hands slid down her back, gripping the underside of her thighs to lift her easily, letting her legs wrap around him. He carried her to the bedroom like he’d done a hundred times before, but it still made her breath hitch every time, like she couldn’t believe the strength tucked inside him.

She tugged at the hem of his henley the second they hit the room, frantic, her mouth still hot from a kiss that never really ended. He let her pull it up and off, baring his chest to her, thick and broad, a little soft in a way that always made her mouth water.

Her hands went to his belt next, working the buckle loose.

But when they started toward his zipper, his hand caught hers.

"Uh-uh," he murmured, in a low and thick voice, the one with that edge he got when the switch flipped in his brain, when her teasing stopped being something to endure and started being something to tame.

She blinked up at him, confused for a second.

He smirked -crooked, knowing- and his voice dropped to a near-growl. "Strip for me, Sugarplum."

The command wasn’t harsh. If anything, it was warm, coaxing, but it carried certain weight. Authority. It made her shift on her feet.

He saw it happen, the way her confidence flickered into something shy, the way her gaze dipped for a heartbeat before sliding back up to meet his. It never failed to rail him, the way she could turn so soft under his attention. Not because she was unsure, but because she felt the gravity of his want.

“C’mon, sugar,” he drawled, stepping back just enough to let her move. “Wanna see you. All of you. Before I make a mess outta us both.”

Her fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse, and Bucky sat back on the edge of the bed, manspreading, hands resting on his thighs.

Waiting.

And fuck if the heat in his gaze didn’t make her feel like the most delicate, desirable thing in the damn world.

She slipped the last piece of clothing from her body, and her breath was already shallow, skin prickling under his gaze. Bucky hadn’t moved from the bed, still sitting with his thighs spread wide, eyes dark and fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, slowly. “Goddamn,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “Come here.”

She took a hesitant step toward him, but he was already moving, reaching for her waist and guiding her to straddle his lap. The shift was flawless, like he’d done it a hundred times in his mind. She settled over him with a small gasp, bracing her hands on his shoulders, her thighs hugging his hips.

He looked up at her, heavy-lidded, and then he moved.

In one smooth motion, he rolled them over the bed, laying her down beneath him with a soft thump against the mattress. Her breath caught in her throat as he hovered over her, his weight on her so welcome. But he didn’t stop there.

Still kneeling, he slid his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her, hauling her hips effortlessly up off the bed, spreading her legs wide, and draping them over his broad shoulders. She yelped, completely unprepared, as he manhandled her like she weighed nothing.

“Bucky-!” Her voice broke on the last syllable, arching her spine instinctively.

He chuckled, low and rough against her skin. “What, baby?” he said, kissing the soft inside of her thigh. “Forgot I’m strong?”

She couldn’t answer. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the sheets, not knowing where to grab, overwhelmed by the sight of his face between her legs, already buried, closing his eyes.

If he could bench press a car, or lift a fucking truck by the axle… why wouldn’t he do this like it cost him nothing?

She moaned as his tongue licked a long, deliberate stripe through her already-soaked slit, slow and savoring, like he had all the time in the goddamn world.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her whole body already shivering against him.

His grip on her ass hardened, digging his fingers just enough to still her her while he mouthed at her ravenously. No teasing. No warm-up. Just a focused, hungry, and devastating Bucky.

He didn’t give her time to catch her breath, didn’t want her to have time. His tongue worked like he meant to ruin her, dragging through her sensitive folds again and again, slick and purposeful. Every flick, every suck of his lips around her clit was ruthless.

He had her straddled on his shoulders like she was nothing, just something sweet to devour. And he was so fucking good at it.

Her thighs began to tremble where they rested against his chest and shoulders, her cries pitching higher each time his tongue slipped inside her, slow at first, then deeper, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds that only made her slicker. She twisted in his grip, throwing back her head, fisting the sheets.

“B-Bucky- oh god- fuck-!”

His mouth never left her. He groaned into her pussy and then wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.

Hard.

She shattered.

Her back bowed and her toes curled behind his shoulders, as a strangled sob left her lips as her climax hit like a goddamn lightingbolt. She came in his mouth with a gush, and he didn’t let up. If anything, he got greedier, lapping her up like he meant to keep her trembling.

Only when her body sagged, wrung out and slick with sweat, he finally release her.

He eased her onto the bed, still with his pants on, and the glistening mess he’d made of his mouth and chest on display. She barely had time to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the waist and flipped her like she weight nothing, dragging her hips up until she was arched, with her knees pressed under her body, ass raised for him.

He knelt behind her, fumbling with his zipper, growling under his breath. “You know what that pussy does to me?” he rasped. “Papa Bear is gonna split you open on this cock so fucking deep, you’ll feel me every time you sit down this week.”

She only whimpered, dazed and raw from the orgasm still buzzing in her veins.

He grunted as he finally got the zipper down, dragging his cock free, hard, flushed, already leaking. He lined himself up, ran the head through her soaked pussy, and then paused.

He bent over her, bringing his mouth to her ear, his voice a low, growled promise.

“I’m gonna fuck you so stupid, as you asked, that you’ll forget your own name. You want that, Sugarplum?” He gave her ass a sharp slap. “You wanna be my little mess before I go play hero again?”

She moaned helplessly, nodding frantically against the sheets.

And Bucky -still half dressed, cock in hand,- sank into her in one long, deep stroke.

“Fuck, Sarge!” she gasped when he bottomed out, arching her body into the mattress beneath the weight of his hips. His thick thighs pressed hard into the back of hers, and the stretch had her vision going white at the edges. He gave her a moment -just a moment- with a few teasing, shallow thrusts, letting her body adjust around his girth. But then, with a low grunt, he drew back and slammed forward again, setting a brutal pace that had the entire bedframe rattling.

The bronze headboard clanged against the wall with each thrust, and she could barely think, barely breathe.

“You feel that?” he growled, voice dark and feral behind her. “Fuckin’ dripping for me, so tight, squeezin’ me like you don’t wanna let me go.” His Brooklyn accent started to thicken like every time he took control.

Her mouth was open, breath catching on each thrust. He was relentless, slapping his hips against her ass, heavily and purposefully.

“Look at you, little mess under me, beggin’ to be ruined,” he rasped, slapping her ass again, then gripping it to pull her back onto his cock. “This is what you wanted, Sugar? My cock wrecking your little pussy before I’m gone?”

“Y-yeah,” she gasped, nodding frantically, body trembling from the hard cadence. “Please, Bucky- cover me. Want to feel you on top.”

That did something to him. He groaned low in his throat, the sound pure hunger, and leaned forward over her, parting her knees wider with his until her belly dipped against the sheets.

Her breath caught as his body came down on hers -warm, heavy, solid- his chest pressing against her back, the soft curve of his belly flush with her spine.

“Greedy fuckin’ sugarplum,” he muttered into her ear, a teasing smile curving his lips even as his cock plunged deeper at this new angle. “You wanted all of me? You got me.”

He braced himself with his vibranium arm planted beside her head, the whirling of servos was faint under the moan she let out. His flesh hand curled under her, palming one breast before rolling her nipple between thick fingers.

She whined, too sensitive, too close.

Then he reached higher, brushing her lips with his hand.

“Open,” he said low but firmly.

She obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips, and he pushed two thick fingers into her mouth, slow and deep, pressing the pads to her tongue.

“Suck,” he said, rough and quiet near her ear.

She did. Her lips sealed around them, hollowed her cheeks with each drag of suction, and his breath stuttered against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grinding his hips down. “You know what that does to me, Sugar.”

She moaned softly around his digits, and his cock twitched inside her. Her mouth was hot, slick, obedient, and seeing her like that beneath him, around him, had his restraint unraveling.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her mouth, slow at first, letting her taste the salt and heat of his skin, letting her tongue slide between the ridges of his knuckles. She kept her eyes closed, sucking him worshipfully. Intimately. Dirty in a way that made something primal pulse low in his gut.

“Goddamn, you like this, don’t you?” he rasped. “Lyin’ there droolin’ on my fingers while I’m so deep inside you.”

She whined, rocking back her hips as she sucked harder, eagerly, her moans muffled by the weight of his hand.

“That’s it,” he growled, leaning more of his body into hers. “You’re so fuckin’ good, Sugar.”

He twisted his wrist slightly, letting his fingers slide into the inside of her cheek. Her hips jerked, a high, keen sound escaping around the seal of her lips.

“You gonna cum for me like this?” he whispered, his breath hot at her nape. “Gonna cream my cock while you suck on my fingers, hm?”

Still buried deep, Bucky let his weight shift forward. The bed creaked beneath them, her thighs already parted wide by his, trembling from how hard he was working her.

His vibranium hand slid down from where he’d been braced, slowly and deliberately, gliding over the dip of her waist, down the curve of her belly. She shuddered beneath him, a gasp caught in her throat as the cool drag of metal trailed lower.

“You feel that?” he rasped against her ear, scraping her earlobe with the edge of his teeth. “So hot down here.”

Two of his cold fingers pressed into the slick mess between her legs, rubbing through the slick spread around where his cock stretched her open and he groaned.

“You made a fuckin’ mess,” he growled, dragging the metal pads, slow and teasing. “You like being this messy for me?”

She whimpered, still sucking on his fingers, hips buckling against his touch.

Then he found her clit -swollen, throbbing- and pinched it softly.

Her whole body jolted.

He grinned against her neck, watching her eyes roll back as he started circling it firmly, mercilessly. He didn’t need finesse. Just pressure. Rhythm. She was already on the edge, trembling around him, drooling down his knuckles.

“C’mon, Sugarplum. One more.” He pinched her clit again, just enough to make her twitch. “Wanna feel you lose it while my cock’s so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.”

She tried to moan something around his fingers, tried to beg or curse or praise, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. The wet suck of her mouth, the clench of her pussy, the twitch in her thighs, it was all he needed.

His vibranium fingers pressed harder, rubbing at one side of her clit until she broke apart, loud and wild, squeezing him in pulses that drew a low hiss from his throat.

“Fuck! Fuck-, Sugar, I was tryin’ to hold out,” he gritted, jerking his hips against her ass in an uncoordinated rhythm. “Was gonna make it last. Make you come again-”

But she was still clenching around him, trying to milk him dry, her slick mouth sucking on his fingers, the heat of her pussy gripping him like it never wanted to let go, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Shit,” he hissed, burying himself as deep as he could go, thick thighs tensed against the backs of hers. “Gonna fuckin’ cum.”

His hand let go of her clit and fisted in the sheets under her as he came -hard and long- his breath catching in his throat as he flooded her with warm, thick pulses until it spilled back around him.

“Jesus,” he choked, grinding once, twice more to push it in deeper, like he could bury every drop inside her.

He stayed like that, pressed flush against her back, heart pounding, lips parted against her shoulder as her body quivered beneath his, wrung out and stuffed full.

He didn’t speak right away; he just let his weight rest heavy and solid on her body.

Then, low against her ear: “You took me so good, sugar. Let me wreck you just right.”

He slowly eased his fingers from her mouth, dragging them lazily, then planted his hand on the mattress to lift some of his weight off her body. Still half-hard and resting against her soaked folds, he dipped his vibranium fingers back down, teasing the mess between her thighs.

“So, Sugarplum,” he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “Did you like your parting gift? Such a mess you got here,” he added, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. Two cool fingers circled the tender rim of her entrance, stretched, swollen, and leaking. He dragged one through the creamy slick coating her folds, deliberately slow, then slipped just the tip inside, shallow and maddening.

She hummed, boneless beneath him, then shifted just enough to lift her hips and rub her ass against his pelvis. His cock twitched, pulsing with interest at the friction.

“Yeah, but I’ll still miss you, Papa Bear,” she said sleepily, her voice laced with satisfaction and mischief.

Bucky pushed himself up, and the mattress groaned beneath him as he rose to his knees. His palm caressed her hip before gliding lower, giving her ass a lazy squeeze. His fingers spread, parting her cheeks just enough to admire his handywork.

A sound halfway between a hum and a growl rumbled in his chest. “Fucking perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, too wrecked to lift her head. Something about feeling good.

He let his gaze roam over her body, heavy-lidded and full of heat, before he reached for his discarded shirt to wipe gently at her thighs, not bothering to be thorough. His other hand stayed on her, stroking slowly over the curve of her hip. His body still buzzed with the aftershock, his cock twitching but spent, for now.

Moments like this, when her skin was soft beneath his hands and her body pliant from pleasure, made it easier to forget the parts of himself he hated. The thickened waistline. The sluggish metabolism that Hydra had cursed him with their prodding. A year of clean eating and harder workouts, and still, nothing changed. If anything, he’d grown softer.

But her. She never made him feel less.

Not when she kissed his belly with the same hunger as his mouth. Not when she reached for him in the dark, whispering “Papa Bear” like it was something sacred.

And not now, lying there ruined and smiling like he’d hung the damn moon.

He sank onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, then shifted and pulled her with him like it was second nature. She let out a little squeak as he manhandled her into his chest, cradling her against him like she weighed nothing at all, again. Her warm thigh draped over his, and her cheek found the place over his heart that always seemed made for her.

“I’ll miss you so much, Bucky,” she murmured, voice muffled as she nuzzled into his skin.

His hand came up instinctively, caressing her hair before he kissed the crown of her head. “I’ll try to be in touch,” he whispered. The promise was sincere, even if he couldn’t always keep it.

She didn’t push. She just sighed, content against his skin, and let her hand drift down across his stomach until it rested at the edge of his waist, curving her palm around his soft lines. There, where he usually tensed. Where his breath always hitched.

But this time… he didn’t flinch.

This time, he reached down and covered her hand with his own, pressing it gently against the curve of his love handle. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

She smiled into his chest. And he stayed there, holding her close, allowing himself to feel good in his skin again.

Permanent Taglist: @civilbucky @pandaxnienke @queergalpal97 @mrsalexstan

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #chubby! Bucky #AAkinky

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gladiatorcunt · 1 year ago

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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!

cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited

this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader

Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.

Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.

“He… he didn’t show up!”

Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.

You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”

Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.

He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.

divider

Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.

You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”

You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.

You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.

His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”

You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”

He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.

Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”

“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”

It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?

“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”

You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.

divider

You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.

“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.

It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.

It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.

Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.

You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”

Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.

You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.

You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”

You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.

Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.

Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.

“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”

divider

You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.

You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.

“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”

You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.

Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.

“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.

Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.

“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.

You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.

“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.

As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.

Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.

“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.

“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”

That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.

“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”

You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.

His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.

(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)

It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.

“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”

There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.

You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.

It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.

“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.

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caffeinewitchcraft · 9 months ago

Text

AITA for being proud of my job as a regional Nightmare?

My sister told me she’s making her own post and that if I was so sure I wasn’t TA then I should make my own so here I am.

I’m a regional Nightmare. I’m very proud of how hard I worked to get here. Not many terrors in their 20s get this high up and it’s because I do the work. I get up at 8pm and I’m out in the woods grinding out those quotas until dawn. Sometimes I sleep out there in my uniform just so I can be the first on scene for the multi-part jobs. I’m efficient, I’m punctual, and I’m committed. My goal is to be a Cyptid by the time I’m 30 and, to do that, I have to stay on at all times.

As a result, I work a lot. I’m often not home for days at a time. I have a very strict training regimen and my time for friends and family is virtually nonexistent. That’s why when I do get the time to hang out, I prefer to spend my time intentionally. What I mean by that is that I don’t want to sit on a couch when I could be lifting weights. I don’t want to chill in the pool when I could be volunteering for new scares. I especially don’t want to gossip over tea when I could be getting overtime.

Last Saturday, my sister invited a bunch of family over to her house. My job in the Virginia woods fell through, so I decided to go. Silly (her childhood nickname) said she had something important to tell the family so I thought it wouldn’t be a waste of my time.

Key word: thought.

When I got to Silly’s house, I was surprised to see so many cars out front. Our parents were there and our older brother. The house was packed. There were cousins, aunts, uncles and a ton of people I didn’t know.

At first the event was fine. Silly’s always been a good cook (see, I know you’re reading this, Silly, and see? I do compliment you when do something actually good) and everyone was really enjoying the flank steak (though I did have to save it before she cooked it medium well). But as the day wore on, I could tell people were getting bored. Silly and Mom were focused on cleaning up and said that dessert would have to wait until her fiance got home. Which was kind of rude to be late and I felt really bad for Silly. It seems like my soon to be brother-in-law (BIL for short) is never around when she needs him.

In an effort to help, I engaged some of the people I didn’t know in conversation because the party was getting a little dead and I didn’t want one of my sister’s parties to fail. I was trying hard not to think about the time I was wasting waiting for my future BIL so it also served as a distraction.

It turns out one of the guys was a fellow terror. He worked a corporate job and we talked for a while about the pros of being freelance like me. He asked me a lot of questions and I was happy to mentor another terror. Corporate can suck the art out of what we do. My clients only care if the quota for their mission is met and don’t enforce such strict timelines. They come to me for quality. Poor guy barely had time to mend his uniform between scares (his cloak was tattered and his hook hand was rusty) so I recommended my tailor and blacksmith.

The guy and I exchanged information. I gave him my business card and he looked for one of his. While he looked, I felt nature calling so I headed upstairs to use my sister’s bathroom (like hell I was going to use the same one as my Uncle Joe). From up there, I saw my future BIL pull into the driveway.

Being a regional Nightmare is a tough job. Like I said, I have to train a lot to keep my certification. So I thought it’d be a good idea to get a scare on my BIL both to punish him for being late and to make up for all the time I’d already wasted at the party.

So I waited for him to come upstairs to change and, when he did, I pulled out the works. I darkened the room and fell back into the shadows. Then, while he groped for the light switch, I stretched out my leg (I have an extra joint in them) and tried to nudge him. I honestly didn’t expect for him to trip and I DEFINITELY didn’t expect for him to fall backwards. I’ve been practicing this skill on my family since I was sixteen and got the leg extension mod and none of them ever fell like that.

My future BIL fell down the stairs. I panicked and raced over to look over the banister. He was fine! He wasn’t bleeding or anything and, when I saw that, I started to laugh.

Everyone freaked out though. They all said I was being immature and bullying my BIL. I told them it wasn’t bullying, it was my actual job. I said that I was just joking and didn’t know my BIL, a former “Cryptid”, would take it so hard.

My mom jumped in and backed me up, but my sister has always been the Queen of the castle. Silly and Dad kicked me out ( I mean, I let them, I’ve got enhanced strength and I didn’t want to hurt them). Dad called me a disgrace and to not come back home.

I asked him if he was really kicking me out just because I wanted to show off my skills a little? And he said yes. And Silly said I had it coming to me for a long time.

I don’t even know what went wrong.

So AITA for taking pride in my work?

---.

SillyCreeper says: Oh my god, you actually made this post? You’re an actual idiot. For anyone who believes this story, read mine before you vote. My brother left out a few details like how the party was my GENDER REVEAL PARTY and that he’s not a regional Nightmare, he’s a Slasher for hire.

OP replies: I am TRAINED to operate as a regional Nightmare. That makes me an independent regional Nightmare.

SillyCreeper replies: Regional Nightmares don’t steal failed missions from corporate Slashers

OP replies: Get your own post, Silly

SillyCreeper: Oh, I already did. Have fun being torn apart on yours, dumbass.

-----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read Silly's AITA post a week early, please consider becoming a patron (X)!

Aita for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a Scare on my husband?

I'm working on this anthology during November and I'm having a blast with this story in particular! The family drama keeps going on and on

#my writing #aita reddit parody #reddit parody #meta monsterverse

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dearstvckyx · 2 months ago

Text

headcanons — john walker x reader / how he loves after being left. (sfw & nsfw)

A/N: omg guys my first time writing nsfw theme

sfw:

He doesn’t want to open up at first. He makes some offhand, self-deprecating joke — “You don’t want to deal with this mess, sweetheart” — but there’s fear behind it. Like he’s daring you to leave too.

Love, to him, looks like acts of service. Fixing your broken cabinet. Keeping your tires filled. Cleaning your headlights. He doesn’t say “I love you” often — but your coffee’s always made, and he memorizes your schedule like it’s a mission briefing.

He leaves the bed sometimes, haunted by things he doesn’t name. You find him on the couch at 3AM, blanket half-fallen off. You start joining him there without a word. Eventually, he starts staying in bed more.

Compliments don’t come easy. “You’re gonna give me a heart atta— I mean, you look good.” He stumbles through the words like they’re live grenades. But the pink in his ears gives him away every time.

Forehead kisses. Always gentle. Always meaningful. When you’re sick. When you’ve had a long day. When he’s just happy you’re still here.

With you, he’s not U.S. Agent. Not a soldier. Not some broken weapon. He’s just John. And slowly, he starts liking who that is.

He used to laugh off therapy. Now, he’ll quietly bring it up. “My therapist said somethin’ like that last week.” And he listens better now — to you, to himself.

There’s a photo of you in his wallet. Tucked behind an old picture of his parents and Lamar. When you find it, he just says, “You’re family now,” and looks away before his voice can crack.

He always pretends he doesn’t care about birthdays — but on yours, he goes all out. Wrapped presents, handwritten card, a store-bought cake that somehow still feels personal.

He’s weirdly formal around your friends. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” You tease him for it, but deep down, he just doesn’t want to embarrass you. He wants to be enough.

There’s a chipped mug you love, and he always saves it for you. It’s the first thing he washes, every time. “It’s your mug,” he says, like it’s obvious.

If you fall asleep on the couch, he doesn’t wake you. Just lowers the volume and adjusts the blanket like it’s the most important job he’s ever had.

He can’t flirt to save his life. “You got… strong handwriting.” It’s awkward. It’s endearing. It’s real.

“Darlin’” slips out when he’s tired or distracted. Then he’ll pretend he didn’t say it. Like it wasn’t the softest thing you’ve heard all day.

He’s not big on texting. But he sends photos: your mug next to his, your shoes by the door, the sky at sunset when on a mission with the new avengerz. No captions. Just “thought of you.”

You have a drawer at his place. Full of your favorite snacks, that lotion you like, fuzzy socks you only wore once. “Just in case,” he mutters.

He doesn’t know how to handle affection. You touch his face and he closes his eyes like it’s too much. But he never pulls away.

When he’s proud of you, he doesn’t yell or post about it. He wraps you up in his arms and says, “You did good, baby.” Quiet and low. Like it means everything.

NSFW

At first he’s hesitant to be…. Well meaner. He doesn’t want to hurt you, especially with him being a super soldier at that. He’ll be slow and soft, gentle, only fuck in one position: Missionary.

And in the beginning: he won’t let you suck him off, he won’t talk dirty to you, won’t use toys or anything on you. He’s just very vanilla and soft in the beginning.

You would have to repeatedly tell him or beg him to be a tad bit rougher. And when he gets rougher…. he gets rougher.

He’ll fuck like he’s staking a claim — hips snapping hard, hands gripping your thighs, jaw clenched tight as he watches you take every rough inch. He’s got that look like he’s damn well owning you in this moment.

His voice drops low and rough, full of command and hunger: “Take it. That’s it, sweetheart. Let me fuck you open just like that.” You will obey. He won’t take no for an answer.

He lives for your begging. Fingers teasing slow, tongue just grazing your sensitive spots — “Say it. Tell me you want it.” When you finally beg, he grins like a predator ready to pounce.

His fingers curl inside you, thick and relentless, whispering in your ear, “This pussy’s mine, huh? So fuckin’ wet for me.” He’s brutal but worshipful all at once.

Hearing you moan his name drives him wild. Especially when you’re face-down, gasping into the pillow, one hand tangled in your hair, the other locking your hip in place like he won’t let you go.

He’s rough but never careless. Slaps your ass hard enough to sting, grips your neck just right to make your eyes flutter. If you flinch or twitch, he pulls back, kisses your neck, and murmurs, “Color, baby?”

Making you cum over and over is his favorite game. Whether on his tongue, fingers, or cock — he commands, “Again. You’re not done ‘til I say so.” You’re addicted to that rough mercy.

Every time he slides into you, he grunts and groans like it’s the best damn feeling in the world. “Fuck, this pussy’s so tight. So fuckin’ wet for me.” His voice is ragged, hungry, completely undone by you.

When he comes, he growls your name and buries himself deep, holding you tight like you’re the only thing that keeps him grounded. Panting, forehead pressed against your skin, utterly wrecked.

After the storm, he switches to softness — cleaning you up gently, holding you close, whispering “Mine,” like it’s a promise and a prayer.

He loves it when you ride him — watching you bounce with that fierce look, hands on your hips, moaning low. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re so damn pretty when you take me like this.”

Praise turns him to putty. Call him good. Tell him how deep he feels. Say “You’re mine, John.” He grips you tighter and murmurs, “Say it again.”

He’ll hold your wrists lightly but firmly to the bed, eyes locked on yours, growling, “Stay still, baby. Let me fuck you right.”

His dirty talk is a mix of rough commands and desperate worship — “So tight… so wet… just for me. You’re mine, always.”

Oh and this man definitely has a Sir kink or a Captain kink. Call him one of those and he’s readjusting y’all’s position to go rougher.

Aftercare

As soon as it’s over, he goes quiet. Not because he’s checked out — but because he’s trying to come down. His chest is heaving, his arms are shaking, and all he wants is you. He doesn’t even pull out right away, just buries his face in your neck and holds you like he’s anchoring himself to the earth.

“You okay?” His voice is low and raw. He always asks, every single time. Even if you’re blissed out and boneless, even if he was watching your every reaction — he needs to hear it from you. “Too much? Did I go too far?”

He strokes your skin like it’s fragile. Big, rough hands gliding gently over your hips, your back, your thighs. “You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

Clean-up is sacred. He always gets up (sometimes still naked, hair wild, cock still half-hard) to grab a towel and some water. Gently cleans you between the legs, peppering soft kisses to your knees and thighs while he does. “I got you,” he says, again and again.

He puts you in one of his shirts. Usually the one he was wearing earlier — worn and warm, still smelling like cologne and sweat and him. Helps you into it slowly, smoothing your hair back, stealing one last kiss.

Then he pulls you into his chest. Covers you both with the blanket, arms snug around your waist, your face tucked under his chin. His heartbeat is heavy and real under your palm. “You’re everything, y’know that?”

He whispers little things. Not always “I love you” — sometimes it’s “You saved me,” or “Never thought I’d have this again,” or “Don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Raw, grateful, John.

If it was rougher, he runs his hands down your body and checks you over gently. Rubs your wrists if he held them. Kisses any red marks. “I shouldn’t’ve gripped that hard,” he mumbles. “You tell me if I ever overdo it, okay?”

He won’t fall asleep until you do. Even if his eyes are closing, he stays awake, watching your breathing slow, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. He won’t leave you floating alone in that post-high haze — he grounds you, anchors you, brings you home.

#john walker #john walker x reader #john walker fic #us agent #us agent x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fics #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fic #headcanons #mcu headcanons #marvel headcanons #john walker headcanons

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gothcsz · 6 months ago

Text

Visitation | Javier Peña x Black Latina F!Reader | ~4.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

Tags: SMUT, pwp, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, cock worship, ball sucking (we're doing it all!), unprotected p in v sex, bi!reader, mentions of f/f sexual activities, creampie, 2 degrading uses of the word(s) 'slut' and 'bitch', untranslated spanish, reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail and carded through, mention of reader losing weight, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, little to no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, barely beta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: so this is def inspired by me being put into horny jail for no reason! straight up indulging in this fantasy, if you couldn’t tell by the bi!reader tag 🙂‍↕️ javier peña i went to jail for you, the least you can do is screw me right 😇 thanks to @ovaryacted for slithering into my brain and convincing me to write this, same with @probablyreadinsmut for lowkey enabling it too, lmfao. oh, and how could i forgot, this is my ride4ride fic for @javierpena-inatacvest lol she gave us this sexy masterpiece right here and i told her i'd write a riding fic back so voila! i hope you guys like it, we are so back (kinda... sorta...) 🖤

Javier leans back in the stiff, uncomfortable chair, fingers drumming lazily against the surface of the scratched-up table. The dim, fluorescent lights cast an unflattering yellowish glow over the grimy glass partition that separates him from the other side. The air in the room is stale, the only sound filling the emptiness is the slow, torturous ticking of the analog clock above the heavy steel door.

Every second drags until finally there’s movement. The shuffle of boots. The metallic clang of cuffs. And then, the slow, aching creak of the door.

There you are.

Dressed in that drab gray jumpsuit, wrists shackled in front of you, your hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes roam over you without shame, mapping the way your body has changed, the slight weight you've lost—but fuck, you still look so damn good.

Like a fucking feast laid out before him. The curve of your hips is there, the same mouth he’s spent nights getting lost in still just as plush, just as dangerous.

Your eyes lock onto his and you freeze, the recognition flaring in your dark, narrowed gaze before your full lips part, nostrils flaring. The guard grumbles under his breath, nudging you forward and you move reluctantly, making a whole show of it; like you’d rather be anywhere but here with him. But Javi knows better. Knows the way your pulse is probably kicking up, just like his. Knows that despite everything, you still feel it too.

You sink into the seat across from him with a huff, and he watches as the cuffs come off, his own fingers flexing at the sound of metal unclicking.

You snatch then lift the receiver to your ear, and he follows.

“What the fuck do you want?”

That voice. Laced with biting attitude and something else he knows all too well—resentment, sure, but beneath that? Heat. Lust. A wound that never fully closed.

Javier wets his lips, his mustache twitching as he suppresses the smirk threatening to curl at the corners. Goddamn, he missed this. Missed you.

“Chiquita, why you bein’ so hostile?” His voice dips low, smooth as whiskey, feigning innocence. His brows draw together in a mock pout, savoring the way you bristle at his tone. “Figured you’d be happy to see me.”

Your scoff is immediate, eyes rolling hard. “Have you forgotten why the fuck I’m in here in the first place?” You snap, no patience for his bullshit.

That attitude is what hooked him in the first place. You were never the type to be tamed, never the type to fall in line like the others. You made him work for it, played the game better than anyone. Had him chasing after you like a man possessed.

The way you writhed beneath him, nails scratching down his back, thighs locking around his hips, your breathy little gasps turning into full-on cries when he gave it to you just how you liked it—it was intoxicating.

It made him reckless, made him stupid. Made him a fucking addict for you. He lost himself between your thighs too many times to count, missed calls, ignored protocol, fucked up royally—all because of you.

And when shit got too messy, when the walls started closing in, he had to make a choice.

So he chose.

Chose to play you, to make you believe turning yourself in was your only option.

And yeah, maybe tricking you wasn’t exactly the cleanest way to do it, but Javier always did have a habit of getting what he wanted—one way or another.

“¿Sigues en eso?” He tilts his head, settling back in his chair like he’s got all the time in the world. “I’m workin’ on getting you out.”

Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “Oh yeah? ¿Y por qué debería creerte? Eres un maldito mentiroso.”

He doesn’t flinch, shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. “Because I’m the only one taking care of you right now.”

Silence. He watches the shift in your expression, realizing that he’s the one putting money on your books, making sure you have what you need. That despite it all, despite how he fucked you over, he’s still the one looking out for you.

Your lips press into a tight, furious line. Then—

“Fuck you.”

You slam the receiver down, the sharp sound slicing through the air, and he feels it—the thrill, the heat licking down his spine. You turn away, signaling the guard that you’re done, but he doesn’t move. He just glances at Javier, waiting for his cue.

Javier gives him a lazy nod.

And just like that, the guard steps out of the room, leaving you two alone.

He watches as your lashes flutter shut, as you take a slow, measured breath like you’re trying to get a grip. And then, just as quick, you whip back around, snatching the receiver again.

Yeah. That’s more like it.

“What do you want?”

He leans in, forearms bracing against the table. “I just wanted to see you, baby. Been missin’ you a whole lot out here.” He sees the way your resolve wavers, however briefly, under the weight of his stare. “Still so fuckin’ pretty.”

You can try to act indifferent all you want, but Javi knows you. Knows what happens when he leans in close, when he lowers his voice, when he looks at you like this.

“Miss that pussy even more,” he murmurs, tongue swiping slow over his bottom lip. His gaze drops lower, like he can see through the fabric of your jumpsuit, down to the heat between your thighs. “You been takin’ care of her in there?”

You tilt your head, eyes glazed over with mischief, giving him a slow, sultry once-over. “You really wanna know?”

He doesn’t answer—doesn’t have to. His tongue drags out again, a deliberate movement, and your eyes track it, just like he knew you would.

Javier watches your pupils dilate, sees the memories flash across your face—the same ones flooding his mind. His tongue buried inside you, lapping at every inch of your cunt, drinking your heady sap while you quivered beneath him.

His cock twitches in his jeans, stiffening against the rough fabric.

“Found someone to help me pass the time,” you murmur, watching his reaction carefully.

His expression tightens, the easy arrogance in his face slipping for just a second before jealousy flares hot in his chest. His mind goes straight to the worst fucking scenario—some sleazy correctional officer shoving you against the wall, making you take his cock like you belong to him instead. The thought burns.

“Who?”

You bite your lip, clearly enjoying the shift in his demeanor. Letting the tension linger, stretching it out until you finally purr, “My cellmate.”

Javier exhales shakily.

His jealousy shifts, transforming into something filthier. His cock throbs painfully against his zipper as his mind floods with sinful images of you—your naked body tangled with another woman, fingers buried in her cunt, lips slick and shining as you look up at her with those heavy-lidded eyes he knows too fucking well.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His hand slips beneath the table, palm pressing against the thick bulge in his pants, fingers flexing as he tries to keep his composure.

“And she’s been takin’ care of her?” His voice is rough, laden with interest.

You hum, mirroring his stance, leaning in close until your breath fogs up the scratched glass separating you. “Leaves me satisfied every time. Can’t complain… had to teach her a thing or two, though.”

“Yeah?” His hand continues to palms his growing bulge under the table, thumb stroking over the fabric, imagining your lips wrapped around him. “She spoilin’ you? You fucking her too, gettin’ your mouth full of pussy or what? Or is she the one doin’ all the work?”

Excitement bleeds into your countenance as your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling a little faster now.

“I do it all, Javi.” Your voice is a sexy, quiet purr that makes his cock ache. Your fingers drag slowly down the glass, a teasing mimicry of how you’d drag them down his chest. “I see why you like being in control so much. Feels fucking good when she comes all over my tongue.”

Javier swears under his breath, gripping the receiver so tight his knuckles turn white. He can see it so vividly, the way you’d dominate, take what you want, just like he does to you.

“Fuck.” His hips roll deeper into his palm, subtly trying to relieve some of the pressure. “Tell me—what else do you do?”

He needs to hear it, needs to burn it into his brain for the nights when he’s alone, aching for you, stroking his cock to memories that no longer feel like enough.

Your pretty eyes twinkle, eyelashes fluttering as you lean closer, voice dropping to a hushed, breathy confession. “We rub our pussies together, and it feels so good,” you moan sweetly, lost in the memory. “I fuck her with my fingers until she’s crying into the pillow. Ride her face, trying to pretend that it’s you, but she’s so soft. It’s nice sometimes, but fuck, Javi—” you shudder, not breaking eye contact, “I miss getting fucked by you.”

Javier stands so fast, the chair scrapes loudly against the floor, receiver slamming into its cradle as he strides straight for the door that leads to your side of the room, his fingers fumbling with the keys he secured earlier.

The moment he crosses the threshold, you’re on him, fists gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him down as your lips crash together in a desperate, bruising kiss. He barely has time to kick the door shut before he’s walking you backward, guiding you with firm hands until the backs of your thighs hit the table, forcing you to perch on the edge.

Your hands are greedy, roaming over the hard planes of his body, fingers raking through his hair, gripping his shoulders, smoothing down his chest. He groans against your mouth, reveling in the way you touch him like you’re trying to memorize every inch of him all over again. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your lips before plunging inside, licking deep, tasting you.

Then your hand is there—palm pressing against the thick outline of his cock through his jeans, fingers curling around his length, stroking slow.

“Shit,” he grunts against your mouth, hips jerking up into your palm.

His hands are just as restless. One palms your tit, kneading roughly, while the other glides up your outer thigh, his thumb slipping beneath the loose fabric of your jumpsuit to graze bare skin, savoring the weight of you in his grasp. He pulls away only to bite down on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before releasing it with a wet snap.

“Mouth tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he rasps, breath fanning hot against your lips. His fingers slide into your hair, yanking the ponytail loose, letting your tresses spill over your shoulders. He tangles his hand in the strands, grips tight, pulling your head back, exposing the soft column of your throat, locking you in place beneath him. “Bet it feels fuckin’ sweet, too. That bitch make you forget how to suck cock, or do I need to remind you?”

Your whine is immediate, needy, and he can practically see the way your mouth waters, tongue darting out as if you’re already imagining wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck my throat, Javi.”

He chuckles darkly, bringing you in with the tight hold he has on your hair as he crashes his mouth back onto yours, devouring you, tongue thrusting deep.

Your hands are already working his belt open, yanking it free with practiced ease before moving to his zipper. He growls when your fingers slip inside, brushing through the coarse hair at his navel, teasing the thick base of his cock.

“Shit—”

Then you wrap your fingers around his shaft, and fuck, he swears it’s never felt this good. His dick throbs against your palm, heavy and hot, leaking onto your fingers as you stroke him slowly, teasing him, making him suffer.

He can’t take it. He needs more.

“Ponte de rodillas.”

His hand slips from your hair as he steps back, dropping into the chair you’d just been sitting in, manspreading wide. His jeans hang open around his thighs, exposing the thick, aching length of him. His cock lies heavy against his stomach, veins prominent, the swollen tip glistening with precum, smearing into the dark hair of his happy trail.

You obey instantly, sinking to your knees, sliding between his thighs like you belong there. Which you do.

“Take your top off, baby,” he murmurs, desire evident in his tone. “Show me those pretty tits of yours.”

You bite your lip, trying—and failing—to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That gorgeous smile. It’s dangerous. It reminds him of all the things he tries to keep buried, the real feelings tangled beneath the lust, the ones he’d rather not acknowledge.

Javier’s serious thoughts vanish the second your top half is exposed. His breath stutters, hunger sharpening in his brown eyes as your tits bounce, nipples peaked and aching. You shift slightly, arching your back just enough to tease him, and his gaze shamelessly devours every inch of bare skin now on display.

Then he sees it. A lovebite, right where the swell of your right breast begins. It pisses him off.

His expression darkens, heat shifting from lust to possessive jealousy.

Before you can react, his hand snakes around the back of your neck once more, fingers tightening in your hair as he yanks you forward, shoving your face into his lap. The hard weight of his cock presses against your cheek, and he grips the base with his other hand, slapping the tip to your lips, smearing precum across them.

“Open.”

It’s not a request.

The second your lips part, he thrusts forward, feeding his cock into your mouth in one brutal stroke, groaning at the slick warmth as you struggle to take him all at once. Your hands clutch at his thighs as you gag, saliva spluttering everywhere.

A muffled moan of protest vibrates around his length, but he doesn’t care, moving you up and down with his hold on you. His head falls back, the tendons in his neck flexing as you begin to match his thrusts eagerly, sucking him down with hollowed cheeks, tongue moving sinfully.

Javier gathers your hair into his fist, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail so he can control you with more force and desperation. Your nails dig into the meat of his thighs, dragging down his skin, the sharp sting spurring him on.

He watches, enthralled, as drool and precum smear across your lips, dribbling down your chin, coating your throat. Each wet squelch echoes in the air, obscene and addictive.

“So fuckin’ hard to stay mad at you with a mouth like this,” he grits out, hips moving enthusiastically while fucking your mouth. His free hand slides over the swell of your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, making you moan around him “Holy shit, chiquita—your throat is fuckin’ heaven.”

Javier lets out a throaty groan, head lolling on his shoulders at the feel of you choking around his cock with every harsh stroke. He chases after the filthy gagging sound, holding you down until your nose is flush against the damp curls at his base, soft puffs of breath exhaling from your nose as you struggle to breathe.

“That’s right, mierda putita, guess you didn’t forget how to suck cock after all,” he laughs breathlessly, his words tapering off into a sharp grunt when your tongue drags along the juicy protruding vein that curves around his shaft; throbbing when the tip of your tongue brushes against it.

He jerks your head back suddenly, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop, and stares down at the wrecked state of you.

Your lips are swollen, eyes dazed, spit and precum caked all over. A beautiful and obscene visage.

“Javi,” you rasp, voice raw. Your hands stay busy, both wrapped around his cock, twisting, pumping, stroking in opposite directions, making a mess of him.

Your tits press together as you work him over, your nipples just barely grazing against his thighs.

“I need your cock inside me. Please.”

He exhales sharply, chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes flicker to the mark on your chest again, jealousy spiking all over.

“Do you?” Javier mocks, putting just enough pressure on the bruise to make you squirm. “Seems like you’ve been doin’ just fine without it. S’that why you’re lettin’ her mark you up?”

You don’t get the chance to answer. He yanks you forward again, but this time, he shoves you lower—forcing you down until you’ve got a mouthful of balls.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed as your mouth opens, tongue stroking over the sensitive skin of his sac, licking, teasing, making him curse under his breath.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he pants, feeling your lips curve into a smirk as you suckle at his scrotum, getting them warm and wet.

Your hands never stop jerking his dick, moving rhythmically. His breath shudders as pleasure builds. He could spill down your throat, paint your face in his spunk—but he’s been fantasizing about this moment since making the plans to come visit last week.

He needs to be inside you. Needs to bury himself in that tight, wet pussy he’s missed so fucking much.

His grip in your hair loosens—a silent signal that you have control again. You pull back slowly, leaving a string of spit bridging your lips to his balls.

“I’m just having fun with her. You know I’m yours, Javier.”

Your tongue flicks out, kitten-licking at his slit, circling his spongy head, then tracing that sensitive vein before pressing your lips fully against him. You make out with his cock like you would his pouty mouth, worshipping every inch.

His heart damn near bursts at your words paired with such a euphoric act. Damn fucking right you’re his.

“Mmm, chiquita… come up here and ride me.”

You fucking giggle, a sultry, wicked little sound.

It’s a stark contrast to the hardened, fiery woman who had been dragged in here earlier, all steel and bite. But now? Now you’re dripping with excitement, turning into the version of yourself he’s missed most—the one who melts at his touch, who aches for him the way he aches for you.

Javier leans back as you slowly rise to your feet, utterly enthralled as he watches you strip bare, peeling away every last scrap of fabric until you stand before him in nothing but a pair of plain white socks.

Fuck.

He’s not sure where to look—those full and soft tits, the soft curves, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips, the luscious, messy wetness between your thighs, the bush at your mound making him feral. His fingers twitch with the need to touch, to grab, to claim.

Javier fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, popping them open hastily but leaving it on, needing the contrast of his still-dressed body against your completely bare form. His control is slipping, hips shifting as he strokes himself, his cock aching for the heat of your cunt.

“Vamos, súbete, nena,” he murmurs, his hips shifting provocatively, arms reaching for you. He expects you to straddle him immediately, to sink down onto his cock like the greedy little slut he knows you to be. But you don’t. Not yet.

Instead, you turn away from him.

You brace your hands against the edge of the cold metal table, bending forward, presenting yourself like a sinful offering.

His breath catches in his throat, jaw going slack as his half-lidded eyes drink you in.

Your messy cunt glistens, soaked from how wet you got blowing him. The soft curls framing your pussy lips only make her look even more enticing, your swollen folds parting slightly, practically beckoning his tongue to part them like the red fucking sea.

He wants to spread you open with his fingers, to press his mouth against that pretty, weeping slit and drink every single drop from your tight, wet hole.

You smirk over your shoulder, rolling your hips just enough to make his mouth water, and then you spread your legs even wider, blooming yourself open completely for him.

Javier groans, his grip tightening around the base of his cock.

“Stop bein’ a fuckin’ tease and c’mere before I leave you with nothing.”

You laugh, the sound dripping with amusement. “That doesn’t sound ideal for either of us, Jav.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

He pulls his chair forward, closing the distance, and you move with him, reaching down to grab his cock, keeping him steady as you finally—finally—lower yourself.

The first push inside is enough to make both of you moan, your walls stretching, gripping, molding around him as he sinks into your cunt until you’re fully seated on his cock.

“Ay, Javi…”

“That’s right, baby," he groans, pleasure clawing up his spine. “Shit, you feel fucking amazing.”

Your forearms rest against the table, giving you leverage as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a teasing, delicious rhythm. The reverse cowgirl position gives him the best fucking view—your slick folds stretching around his cock, your greedy little hole swallowing him over and over, sucking him in deeper.

His breathing grows ragged as a thick, creamy ring forms at the base of his shaft. The wet sounds of your pussy slapping against him fill the room, weaving with your high, breathy cries.

“Javi! Javi! Ohh—fuck me you’re in so deep, ah shit your cock feels so good inside my pussy baby fuck me!”

You’re a blabbering mess, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as your pace quickens, your ass bouncing against his lap.

Javier watches, completely wrecked, large hands grabbing at your ass, squeezing, kneading the meaty flesh. His thumbs pull your cheeks apart, exposing the tight, untouched pucker above your stretched pussy, and his cock throbs at the sight.

Without warning, his palm cracks against your ass.

You yelp, jolting from the sudden impact, your rhythm faltering for a second before you push through it, still grinding, still taking him.

“Keep fuckin' taking it.”

Another slap. Then another. The heat of your ass gets hotter with each strike.

Your moans turn into soft, gasping sobs, the overwhelming pleasure tipping you into something almost delirious. But Javier doesn’t let up nor does he give a shit.

Because he knows—deep down, past the pain, past the shock—you fucking love being treated like this.

His cock slips out of your pussy, smeared in your mixed wetness, swollen and pulsating as it rests between your ass cheeks. Your body doesn’t know any better, still grinding against him, his dick sliding between your sticky lips, making a sloppier mess.

Javier actually fucking whimpers at the sight, teeth biting into his bottom lip while his hands moved from your sore ass up to your love handles, pushing you further up the table as he stands.

He grabs his wet cock, smacking it against each cheek before he sheathes himself inside you again.

“Javiiiii,” you sing for him.

“That’s right, just like that.” He grunts, slipping his hands up until he’s cupping your tits, pulling you flush against his chest as he starts plowing you vivaciously.

His fingers tug, roll, pinch and strum at your sensitive nipples, the texture of his mustache at your neck as he licks and nips at it, leaving blotchy marks of his own as both of you begin to orgasm.

“Please please please don’t stop Javi, oh my g— I’m about to come,” you whimper, totally fucked out, digging your nails into his wrists as he continues to play with your tits, dragging scratch marks down his brown forearms.

One hand leaves your breasts and glides down to your pert clit, rough fingertips swirling it around, pinching it, and that does you over.

“Come all over my cock, fuck, eres tan pinche hermosa.”

You turn your head and he quickly slots his mouth over yours, the kiss messy and sloppy as your high pitched moaning fills his mouth, his tongue licking over your teeth and swapping spit.

His thrusts grow frantic, rutting into you wildly, holding your bouncing tits for dear life when he finally comes, clutching you so tight he’s almost afraid he’ll crush you to death.

You’re both panting frenziedly, all types of bodily fluids coating your skin. His mind feels fogged over, orgasm so intense he swears he’s seeing fucking stars.

“Mmm,” you hum, going pliant in his arms while he holds you, caressing you dotingly, swollen lips leaving open mouthed kisses all over your bare shoulder and up your neck, making you sigh contently.

“Te extraño,” he mutters sincerely against your skin and he feels your body tense briefly.

“Then why am I in here?” Your voice is a mix of frustration and something softer, hurt, he guesses.

Javier hesitates, the lines of worry etching deeper into his face. “It’s complicated,” he admits, his words slow and measured, “but I meant what I said—I’m workin’ to get you out.”

You offer no reply—only a long, weary sigh that betrays the depths of your desire and the burden of your reality.

He pulls out of you then, already missing your warmth, and you both hiss at the feeling.

Then he sees his milky spend bubbling out of you, dolloping at your clit. He’s quick, fingers returning to your used cunt as he collects it and shoves it back in, plugging you with his seed.

“Hold it in, chiquita. When you get back to your cell, I want her to eat my cum out of you.”

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @penascigarette . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk .

#javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #kat's writing.#javier peña x you #javier peña fic #javier peña narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos

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jeonginsleftcheek · 9 months ago

Text

Soft (drabble)

pairing: hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, just a smidge of smut

warnings: soft cock play, mentions of lovemaking

a/n: i'm sorry if this sucks, writer's block is being a bitch again! i'm working on the dolly fics and stressing myself out so i tried to just write something for comfort😭🫶🏻

~ Masterlist

A quiet afternoon spent in your lover's embrace is just what you needed after a hectic work week.

The outside world and all the anxieties it brings, slowly melt away into the background as you lay in your soft blankets, right next to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin is soft too, even though he's all muscle and prominent bones, to you he is soft because he brings you comfort.

He's sitting, his back against the pillows, one of his arms behind his head as the other holds the book he's reading.

Your head is on his chest as you hold your book, both of you lost in the fiction but still present enough to enjoy the quiet scene together.

Moments like this are priceless to the both of you, when you can escape everything and just be in your own little comforting bubble.

You put your book down after some time, closing your eyes as you place your hand on Hyunjin's stomach, gently caressing him.

He hums quietly and you look up at him, he's already looking at you with a sweet smile so you return the smile before closing your eyes again.

Hyunjin thinks you'll fall asleep and he doesn't mind, quite the opposite, he loves the fact that both of you are so comfortable together that you can fall asleep in each other's arms.

But you're not sleeping, you're admiring your lover, fingertips caressing the exposed skin of his navel, where his shirt rode up.

You play with the happy trail leading to his sweatpants and Hyunjin shivers a little but keeps reading, the hand that was behind his head is now tangled in your hair as he cards his fingers through it gently.

You love every part of Hyunjin, in any shape or form, you'd told him that a hundred times, your lips have worshipped every inch of his skin countless time as his did with yours, never tired of sharing the love you feel for each other.

You slide down further to rest your cheek against his stomach, sliding his shirt up a little before you nose at his skin and leave a few gentle kisses.

Hyunjin giggles quietly and you look up at him again.

"Just do your thing." you nod at the book and he rolls his eyes playfully before returning his attention to it.

You keep caressing his smooth skin, staring at the bulge that's visible in his sweat pants even when he isn't hard.

You know he's not wearing any boxers, you'd fallen into each other's embrace and made love this morning, and after another round in the shower, your lover didn't bother to put any underwear on.

Mindlessly, your hand slides into his pants and you grab his soft cock, squeezing it a little.

"What are you doing?" Hyunjin chuckles, his legs jolting a little.

"It's just comforting like this." you hold him, running your fingertips gently on the softness.

"Really? But it's soft..." Hyunjin looks a bit embarassed as you look up at his rosy cheeks.

"Mhm. It's cute." your fingers slide down to his balls.

"You did not just call my dick cute." Hyunjin laughs a little as you gently grab his balls and giggle.

"Stress relief." you smirk and he laughs again.

"I'm glad they help you relieve stress but if you keep doing that, it's not gonna stay soft." he smirks at you and you giggle.

"So what?" you wiggle your eyebrows, fingers wrapping around his soft cock again, feeling it twitch a little.

"You wanna go for round three?" he plays with your hair, his loving eyes filling up with lust slowly.

"Maybe." you tease, feeling him grow in your hand as you move it ever so gently.

"Come here, you little tease." he beckons you with his finger and a smirk and you roll your eyes playfully before releasing him as you scoot closer to him.

Hyunjin grabs your face gently pulling you in to crash his lips against yours, giving you a kiss full of love and desire his heart has only for you.

His arms wrap around you as he easily pulls your body on top of his.

You can feel him pressed against your thigh, now hot and hard, wanting you.

He flips you over and smirks.

"Round three it is then."

Later, when he's buried deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, he will ask you if you still think his cock is cute.

You'll say yes just to tease him, and in that moment of intimacy you will laugh together, completely carefree and infatuated with each other as you exchange words of love.

At the end everything will become soft again, gentle and delicate, just like loving Hyunjin is.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana

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hivemuthur · 4 months ago

Note

a lil request, for freaktor friday or not

soo

what if vik found out the reader comes easily and is a visual learner so he would make them come just by making them watch him suck strap buckled to their hips and giving them a lil show

I feel like this should have a new day of the week invented, but I say it's Freakday since I lack better options :v

Oral Fixation

viktorxfem!reader explicit! blow jobs (?) + fingering (fem receiving since it just came out this way), established relationship, disgusting love, Reader is a complete simp, but Viktor likes it.

word count: 3,3K

author’s note: I feel like this belongs in the pegging universe, so I just kinda nodded to myself in this one, you can treat it as a part two -> here's the pegging fic. @rennethen beta read! RIP all of us cockless. Also, i hope you didn't mind the ask spam people and happy Freakday :v

—

It’s impolite to stare—you were always told. But whether out of sheer defiance or overwhelming curiosity, you’ve never paid much attention to what’s polite and what isn’t. You were right, of course, and the world was wrong. Your long ogling sessions have earned you a partner with equal levels of fixation and a mind as brilliant as it is open—keeping up has only ever been a thrill.

What started as one tiny indulgence on your part—a glance toward his hands—soon bloomed into full-blown obsession. The fruits of which would betray you to anyone who opened your notebook, now full of sketches. Every knuckle, every wrinkle rendered with the kind of care that screams affection.

And it betrays you, as you feared, when those same hands—immortalised in ink—leaf through the pages. Heart plummeting, you watch him carefully. See if he’s noticed. But the moment Viktor holds the book at arm’s length and compares one of your sketches to his open palm—you know it’s over.

He teases you for weeks after. “Is it just my hands that interest you?” he asks, all innocent and smug. “Or are you curious about other people’s hands too?” You swat him for it, ignoring the ‘cripple’ card he pretends to pull, but you’re still smiling as you walk away. You can’t help it.

And what turns out to be true—despite everything—is that it was never just his hands. Nor anyone else’s. It’s the whole of him. The strange, perfect sum of all his parts.

The next fixation is his eyes, though you don’t linger long. He’s too quick, too perceptive, and your stares never go unnoticed. So you move on. His nose comes next. Here you stay for a while, long enough for him to finally clock your silent advances. And Viktor—mercifully—makes the first move.

This, of course, opens up a whole new range of possibilities. All those parts hidden under layers of clothing that you’d only been able to imagine are now granted to you—completely denuded. Pure skin, and sinew, and bone, laid bare only for you to worship. Falling asleep with your ear to his stomach is bliss. Kissing over the bruises left by the brace—a privilege. Pressing your mouth to where his underbelly hollows, trying not to let your breath tickle him—pure joy.

There is one part, however, that managed to escape your attention—until recently. Viktor’s lips.

They are not the kind of mouth you’d notice at first glance. Not full, not plump. But you’ve watched them closely now, and they are a wonder in their own right. The way they purse when he chews absently on a pencil, softening when the pressure eases. How his fingertip comes to rest at the corner of his mouth whenever he’s deep in thought, tapping once, twice, then stilling. You’ve seen him lick his lips after a sip of too-hot coffee, tongue darting out to chase the steam before it vanishes. Watched how they part around a spoon or the edge of a fork, cheeks rounding slightly as he eats, the motion making his whole face look softer—almost unfamiliar.

And when he smiles—genuinely, openly, without irony—his whole face pulls taut with it. The corners of his lips lift first, then the skin around his eyes creases in that way that makes your heart ache. His mouth was never just a mouth. It was a thousand quiet gestures stitched together into a portrait you hadn’t even realised you were memorising.

Viktor, the ever present hawk eye, notices. Mid-sentence, no less, pencil resting slack against the paper while you fixate on the way he mouths the words, vowels rounding tenderly, adding new meaning to the phrase soft-spoken. He doesn’t call you out this time—not exactly. Just tilts his head and smiles in that way that means he’s caught you again. You fail miserably in looking away.

Later, when the work is packed and the clock tells you it's much too late to be lingering, Viktor rises and holds out a hand with purpose.

"Come," he says, voice low with something just shy of caballing. "I’ve thought of something that might make you happy."

You quirk a brow. "You're awfully confident for someone who still insists on instant coffee."

He hums, not rising to the bait, just draws your hand into his and begins walking. The halls are quiet. His cane clicks softly against the stone. "You’ve been looking at my mouth like it holds all the secrets of the universe," he says. "I figured… maybe it should offer a few answers."

You stumble a little, less from the pace and more from the way heat curls in your stomach at the implication. “And you’re not going to tell me what you mean by that?” you ask.

“I think you’ll understand soon enough,” he says, glancing at you sidelong. “If I’m right—and I usually am.”

Viktor doesn’t lead, not in the traditional sense. He doesn’t drag you behind him or push you to move faster. Instead, he floats ideas, opens doors—metaphorical and literal—and lets you choose whether to walk through. He is an eager and generous lover, yes, but also a careful one. He has never once assumed. He doesn’t chase power, he invites trust.

Even when he first offered you his most tender parts, baring himself not to surrender but to be seen. That night had been many things—electric, cathartic, almost embarrassingly emotional—but what lingered most was the way Viktor had looked up at you afterward. Like you’d cracked open something in him he hadn’t known was closed. Like he wanted more.

And now, this. Another door. Another idea. Wild, hushed for now, but clearly mapped out in that labyrinthine mind of his.

The lock clicks behind you as he shuts the dorm door. Viktor turns to face you properly, smile curved like he’s hiding something behind his back. "Will you let me show you?" he asks. His voice is quiet, but sure.

You nod, cheeks blooming into that lovely vermillion he likes so much. He watches the colour spread like paint in water—utterly taken. “Good,” he says simply, and nods toward the chair near his desk. “Get undressed. Sit there.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, already pulling at your shirt hem. “Are you getting undressed too, or am I the only one baring all tonight?”

Viktor’s smile curves sharp, wicked. “There will be no need. Not yet.”

The way he says it—not yet—twists in your belly like silk pulled tight. You settle into the chair, shifting as your skin meets the cool seat, but Viktor is already moving, reaching to the drawer by his bed. He returns not with flourish, but with quiet certainty, cradling the harness like it’s something precious.

“Is your attitude in need of… maintenance again?” you tease, though your voice comes a little thinner than intended.

Viktor glances up, bemused. “Not particularly,” he says. Then sits—gingerly, carefully—onto the pillow he’s placed at your feet. One leg at a time, he slides the straps up your calves, his hands as gentle as they are precise.

“Not tonight,” he repeats, fastening the harness into place on your hips after you lift for him obediently. His thumbs skim the edges where leather meets skin, slow and certain. “But I do have another gift for you.”

You glance down, and your chest flutters with a shaky laugh that barely makes it out.

He’s loosening his cravat now, slow enough to watch your eyes track every movement. The silk slips through his fingers, down his chest and off to the side. The top buttons of his shirt follow, granting you a view of the elegant dip of his collarbones, the pale skin of his throat. He’s flushed—not just the dusting across his cheeks, but his ears, the tips of them going pink like they always do when he’s on the verge of something exciting. His pupils are near-black, and his lips curl into a smile that might’ve passed for shy, had you not known him as intimately as you do. He’s so distractingly pretty you almost overlook the cock hanging between your legs.

“I’ve noticed,” he begins, voice low, “that the full-body scan you’ve been giving me lately seems to halt on my mouth for quite some time.”

You start to object, or maybe laugh, or deny it outright—but Viktor continues, silencing you with little more than a look. “I don’t think anyone’s ever taken me apart so lovingly before,” he murmurs, and you feel the weight of that confession settle in your chest, curling into a warm ball like a cat that has finally found its place. “So allow me to indulge you.”

He shifts between your legs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. Then another, higher. His breath is warm, his lips scalding. But he doesn’t rush. Instead, he reaches up for your hand and brings it to his mouth.

The first kiss lands at your wrist, soft and gentle. Then he begins to drag his mouth over each finger, tongue flicking along the pads like he’s trying to ruin you right there. His lips close over your index, drawing it in with slow suction, warm and slick, and your breath grows heavy and burdened with need.

But Viktor takes his time. Tongue curling underneath, tracing the crease where knuckle meets palm. Then he shifts to your middle finger, sucking deeper, until the wet sound of it becomes a pulse between your legs. His eyes remain fixed on you, half-lidded, patient and unhurried. You can feel the way his tongue presses up against your skin—how he lets the pad of it slide along your body with intention, tasting you.

He nips, briefly, at the base of your thumb, then soothes the mark with a kiss so gentle it barely registers. There is no part of this that is idle. He worships, he savours. He learns.

Your eyes have not closed for a while. Even when you blink you make sure you can still see him, utterly beguiled by the trace of shiny spit his mouth produces around your fingers. The slide of it, the pout he makes to suck around you until your own hand burns with all the hot blood circulating through it. You are certain Viktor can feel your pulse on his tongue.

He releases your hand with a quiet pop, a fine thread of slick still connecting the two of you. For a moment, he simply looks at you—then his gaze drops.

One hand steadies your thigh, fingers splayed and gentle. The other slips between your legs. First, to check something very important. Whether he was right.

He teases your entrance, clever hand searching, and when he finds the answer, he gasps softly. The quiet sound that follows is unmistakable—confirmation, and proof, and reward. Your eyes flutter closed, unthinking.

“Eyes on me at all times, love,” he says. A small, firm correction. Not harsh, never. But enough. You open them again, immediately.

He’s already looking up at you, chin tilted, lips parted like he might lean in and take a bite. The light catches in his eyes—hungry, but so focused, so careful. His fingers stroke through you again, slower now, like he’s waiting to see every reaction he can draw from your face with just the tiniest movement.

When he speaks next, his voice is lower. Intimate. Pleased. “Good. That’s very good.”

And then, oh—a kiss. Nowhere near your skin. On the tip, sweet and teasing, it pries at the hinges of your jaw, makes your eyes go wide. It is as if you can feel whatever Viktor presents. Your mind, drunk already, soaks in the sight of him at your feet—but mostly, his mouth. Wrapping solemnly around the length nestled between your thighs. With the slide of his lips, two fingers ease inside you.

They curl, slow and steady, knuckles grazing soft where you’re most sensitive. But even that stretch is a distant hum compared to the way your brain short-circuits watching him.

What Viktor is doing is maddening enough with the phantom feeling between your legs, and you cannot stand the idea of what it would actually feel like. He’s not rushing. No frantic bobbing, no mess—yet. Just the steady, measured pressure of his lips gliding down, then pulling back.

And though you don’t feel the warmth of his mouth there, the sight of it—him—at your feet, eyes half-lidded, cheeks hollowing—is enough to have your body tensing up and toes curling.

Whenever your eyes fall closed, he stops. “Watch me,” he says firmly, pulling back just enough to speak, lips brushing the tip in a mockery of a kiss.

The pace he sets when you obey is punishing in reverse—the slowness of it, tormenting. His fingers inside you only add to this feast of teasing, but it strikes you that you can endure it, so long as Viktor never rises from his spot.

Innocence is not your virtue—you’ve thought about it. But now you're convinced that vivid imagination isn’t your virtue either, since the fantasy has absolutely nothing on the reality of Viktor’s mouth caressing the underside, lips shining. Gorgeous, you think.

He moans, pleased, as if to perplex you, a glint of joy dances in his eye when his tongue flattens out and the inanimate head slaps against it. Drool wells around your cock, and you imagine how warm it is, how smooth the slide must feel in Viktor’s mouth—how it would feel to you if it were actually attached to your body.

And as if all of that is not maddening enough, Viktor pushes back down. Lower, further, past the barrier of throat, where his vein is faintly risen, where you can see his quickened pulse painted in pale blue. He doesn’t stop when he gags—just squeezes his eyes shut for a beat, breathes through his nose, and steadies himself. The sound it makes is so vulgar, and it only seems to spur him on. He pulls back, lips stretched glossy around you, then lets it rest heavy on his tongue. Holds it there, looks up, eyes dazed but daring.

You gulp, and he doesn’t. Not until he needs to, and even then, he does it dramatically—lets it fall from his mouth with a slick gasp and a trail of spit, only to drag his tongue along the underside as he catches his breath.

All the while, his fingers are moving with studied intent inside you, curled perfectly, just shy of unbearable. And then—

He takes it again. This time deeper. Swallows it down. At the same moment, he thrusts his fingers to the hilt and presses his thumb firm against your clit. You cry out, reflexive and raw, will your eyes to stay open through the blur of tears, desperate to not miss anything.

It’s not enough to come, but nearly. Nearly is worse. So you move, slow at first, unsure, rocking your hips in shallow thrusts—meeting the wet heat of his mouth, and pressing his fingers deeper in return.

He hums around it, and the phantom vibration flutters straight through you, your brain somehow wills it into existence. You watch the lines of strain on his face, the determination behind his eyes.

It’s odd, in a way. Viktor is always speaking—explaining, coaxing, teasing. But now, his mouth is busy, and the absence of his voice only makes you crave it more.

You hear it anyway, conjured from memory. How he sounds when he praises you. How he groans when you ride him. How he whispers your name like a confession. But the sounds he’s making now—wet, guttural, wanting—are nearly enough.

Before you know it, your ass slides to the edge of the chair, wood creasing the skin of your cheeks, hips spilling over. Your hands come up to cup his face, and it’s the first time Viktor closes his eyes—calm smoothing over his features, as if your fingers have ironed out the tension.

And then—oh God—you’re certain Viktor plots to ruin you eternally, when his jaw slackens, and he offers you a gift. Control. Messy, and glistening with his spit.

He brings your hands to his throat, one at a time, guiding them. Your thumbs prop his chin, and he waits—mouth provocatively open, trusting—waiting for you to move your hips into his palm, between his lips.

It’s surreal, the way he opens for you—so patient, so steady. The way he makes himself available without ever surrendering power. You can see it in the set of his brows, in the calculated push of his fingers inside you, the press of his thumb against your clit timed with every breath he takes around the length in his mouth.

You move, slowly at first. Testing the tension in your thighs, the wet glide of his lips. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. His hand stays on your hip, just placed there, letting you do the rest. And whatever you do is yours to decide.

So you fuck his mouth tenderly, a rhythm born of instinct and awe. Not for the cock, not for the illusion—but for him. For Viktor, who has always known how to give. For Viktor, who never rushes but always sees you.

He moans again—low, almost a hum, the vibration somehow finding a way of seeping straight into your gut. You want to tell him he’s beautiful. That he’s undoing you. That no one’s ever looked so good sat on their ass with a cock between their lips. But your mouth won’t cooperate—your mind, already fraying, can't hold language when he curls his fingers just right and presses the flat of his tongue along the length.

The chair creaks beneath you when your hips stutter. His lips are wet, stretched, cheeks hollowing with every pass.

It comes faster than you expect. Your hand finds his hair and you pull— just enough. His eyes flick up to yours, dark and unblinking. Your mouth falls open, your thighs tremble. He groans around the base, and it tips you over—hot and high and breaking against the inside of your chest.

Your body curls forward. His hand, warm on your belly, holds you through it. Hazy, you gasp and breathe heavily, the rise and fall of your stomach made real by Viktor’s touch. When you step beyond the other side of climax, the side of warmth and pliancy, you slip down from the chair, knees finding the floor, and Viktor’s arms open instantly. The harness shifts between you—warm and slick with his spit, now nudging his stomach awkwardly. It makes you both laugh, breathless and low. Still, you clamber into his lap, careless of grace, needing only to be close.

Your arms go around his neck. His hands bracket your hips. You wrap yourself around him like you might fall through the floor otherwise, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and breathing deep. The scent of him, the sweat on his collar, the faint ghost of whatever soap he used this morning—all of it hits like safety. Like home.

“God,” you sigh, voice threadbare. “How do you know me so well?”

He hums. You feel it in his throat before you hear the answer. “I am very observant,” he murmurs. A kiss to your temple. “And curious.” His hands shift at your back, stroking slow. Then, softer still: “And I love you an insane amount as well.”

The words crack something open inside you. You hold him tighter, and mumble quietly into his shoulder. “There is no other way to love you than an insane amount, Viktor. You are my biggest fixation.”

“My fixation,” he repeats, tasting the word like it belongs to him now. “Come to bed.”

#my writing #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #viktor smut #viktor x f!reader #viktor x oc #arcane #arcane fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor nation #requests

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ikimaru · 1 month ago

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This is pretty dumb, but i gotta wonder, how were you able to consistantly post on the internet without it wearing you out?

I started off just doing it for fun, but the more i did it, the more pressure i put on myself and now I'm sitting here like, 7 years of not drawing at all. I doodle here and there but they're like actual stick figure type doodles you know?

I guess i burned myself out, but I'm not even sure how it happened until it was too late xDD just wanna go back to my happy 18 yo self doodling what i want. Ohhhh the dreams.

omg uhh there's so so many things to say about this topic but I've always been geared to post online, drawing and sharing it is how I connect with people and what pushes me to get better and keep going, I wouldn't get any of that by not posting so quitting has never been in the cards tho I did get burned out at several different points haha

defining goals and what constitutes a payoff is a crucial part of drawing, there's a balance between having fun and perseverance and getting those payoffs, I do think you need all three:

if you only draw for as long as it's fun but have no perseverance or goals you might feel aimless and quit during the times it's not fun

if you only draw striving to achieve something but you're not having any fun you and have no perseverance you might either hate it or quit if there's no immediate payoff

if you only draw through perseverance but there's no goals or fun, you might start wondering why you're doing it at all

I think perseverance is the #1 thing that can carry you through the rest, because I've had times where drawing sucked. A LOT, but if you have it you can try to fix things for as long as it takes, this doesn't mean you have to post your art online, you keep it 100% for yourself if you want, tho personally posting and sharing with others IS a lot of the drive

also personal opinion but if you want to get back into drawing, drawing small doodles or stick figures for fun has the opposite effect 😅 in the long run it's gonna convince you you can only do small doodles and stick figures and everything else will feel like it's too much or too scary to tackle fjksjd

but yeah drawing in our teens was like.. peak lmao our brains are very chaotic, you really feel that pull to just draw whatever all the time

#Sunnyasks

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star-har · 6 months ago

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be mine (or whatever)

gojo satoru x reader | fluff

“You brought me all the way up here just to kill me, didn’t you?” you say, squinting at Gojo as you kick at the wildflowers near your feet. “Admit it. You got sick of me roasting your blindfold fashion choices, and now you’re gonna push me off the hill.”

Gojo scoffs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Please,” he says. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d do it somewhere way less scenic. Maybe a dingy alleyway or the dumpster behind a McDonald’s.”

“Romantic,” you deadpan. “So this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me?”

“Not today, at least.”

“Then why’d we come all the way up here?”

Gojo shifts beside you, kicking at a rock. “Dunno. Just felt like it.”

You hum, turning back toward the view.

The city stretches out far below, bathed in the soft glow of golden hour. The lake shimmers, the sky looks like something out of a painting, and the warm breeze carries the scent of wildflowers.

It’s beautiful, and every part of you is glad to be seeing with Satoru. You’d never admit that to him, though.

“So,” you say after a moment, side-eyeing him. “Are you gonna tell me what’s in your pocket, or are we gonna pretend you haven’t been messing with it all day?”

Gojo freezes.

He plays dumb, tipping his head. “What?”

You narrow your eyes. “You suck at acting.”

“You suck at minding your business,” he shoots back.

You grin. “Satoru.”

“Sweetheart.”

You make a sudden grab for his pocket.

“HEY—!”

Gojo dodges, but you’re fast—fast enough to chase him through the field, laughing as he sprints away like his life depends on it.

“IT’S EMBARRASSING!” he yells.

“SO YOU DO HAVE SOMETHING!”

Gojo twists, but you grab his sleeve—yanking him back—and suddenly—

Suddenly, he’s really close to you.

Like close-close.

Like his breath is warm against your skin close.

Neither of you move.

The sun melts lower, golden light spilling between you, soft and unforgiving. And maybe it’s the angle, maybe it’s the way the wind tugs at your hair, or maybe it’s the way you’re smiling at him, carefree, full of life, so effortlessly you.

The sunset behind you looks dull in comparison.

The golden hues, the soft streaks of lavender and rose—the whole breathtaking masterpiece of it—none of it comes close.

For the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo forgets how to breathe.

Your voice pulls him back. “What are you hiding?”

Gojo exhales. Debates running. Debates lying.

Then, painfully, he pulls a tiny pink envelope from his pocket and holds it out.

You blink.

You take it.

It’s a stupid Valentine’s Day card, cheap and childish, a cartoon panda holding a heart. Inside, scrawled in his ridiculous handwriting:

Be mine (or whatever).

Silence.

Gojo watches your face, regretting every decision that led to this moment. “Look, just throw it away or something—”

But instead, you laugh.

Not teasing. Not mocking. Just soft.

And then—

Then, you step closer.

And kiss him on the cheek.

Gojo short-circuits.

It’s not long, not deep—just a simple press of your lips against his skin, soft and fleeting, but it knocks the wind out of him entirely.

When you pull back, he’s still standing there, dazed, ears pink, brain empty.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Satoru,” you murmur.

And as the sun sets behind you, painting the sky in every shade of hopelessly, stupidly in love, Gojo Satoru finally, finally understands what it means to lose.

Awee kill me (or whatever) !

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alchemistc · 11 months ago

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"Evan's not here," Tommy says, and Eddie scowls at him as he pushes past Tommy, already aiming for the kitchen as he hitches the six pack he'd brought with him up under his armpit. It'd been a - a thing. A 'my best friend and my new friend are too busy sucking face to spend every spare moment distracting me from my problems' thing, a thing where Eddie sort of finally understood exactly why Buck had hip checked him on the basketball court months ago. He wants his best friend back. He wants the ease of his friendship with Tommy back.

Which is - Christ, he's selfish, is the thing. A month without Chris there to keep him occupied and Eddie has had some startling realizations about himself. ("You're not selfish, Eddie, you're the most selfless person I know." from Buck and "So fix it," from Tommy, a rare night out with the both of them because he'd headed date night off at the pass by asking Tommy to go out for drinks before he and Buck could make plans without him).

"My world doesn't revolve around Buck," Eddie tells him, and screws the cap off a beer to hand it to Tommy. Tommy's doing that judgmental face he gets when he wants to say something bitchy but hasn't put the words in the right order yet. And - Eddie's not lying. Buck is a fixed point, an ever present life-line, but he's not the fucking sun.

Neither is Chris, apparently, which is news to Eddie and he's - spiralling, still. Quietly, calmly, and he's only punched one hole in the wall on a bad night.

"You ever go to Frank?" Eddie asks, like Frank is the only therapist in the greater LA area, and Tommy rolls his eyes, disappears long enough for the muted sound of the television to go quiet.

When he comes back Eddie's reading the label on his beer bottle

"Apparently I resent you," Eddie says, and Tommy chuffs a laugh.

"Apparently?"

"No, I -." The words had been just as hard two hours ago. This little trip was his own design, he'd been told specifically to sit in it for a while but Christ, an hour a week isn't enough time to talk through his issues and it's not like he can tell Buck he resents him for finding something he's happy and stable and solid in. So. Tommy it is. "You and Buck are good together. I'm happy for you both. I am."

Tommy settles against a countertop with his hip digging into the Formica. His kitchen has gained a dutch oven that looks suspiciously like the one Buck has been showing Eddie for like six months that he couldn't justify the cost of because he's not around enough to use it as much as he'd like.

"I'm not usually the one without his shit together," Eddie says.

"No offense, Eddie, but I thought the whole point of therapy was you realizing you rarely have your shit together."

Also true. He's - usually better at hiding it though. Kim was a joker stacked up on a wobbly house of cards and he'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she'd bring the whole thing tumbling to the ground. Mass casualty event. No survivors.

"You make each other better people," Eddie says, which is the wrong thing to say apparently because Tommy scowls.

"If you wanna completely ignore all the work we've both put into ourselves," he snipes, and - yeah. Fair. Buck's been in therapy for years now. Every once in a while he'll pull something out of his ass that makes Eddie's skin itch - something so mystifyingly self-aware that it makes Eddie want to claw into his chest cavity and rip out his fucking heart. And Tommy - well, he doesn't know much but it's not like Tommy's the paragon of perfection. He's worked through some shit. Is still working through shit, if the aftermath of his and Buck's first real fight is any indication.

"I've never been with someone who makes me want to work on myself," Eddie admits, and the lines around Tommy's eyes shift. He sighs.

"Never gonna find that if you don't want it for yourself."

Yeah. Frank's said as much. It's just - Eddie doesn't have a starting point. Tommy had the whole hiding his true self thing, and Buck had the dead-brother-shitty-parents thing, and he's whittling them both down to the sharp edges of themselves in his mind, which isn't entirely fair but it's easier than trying to confront what the fuck his own problem is. Dead wife, his kid in another state, a contentious relationship with his father, a whole backlog of PTSD he's never really confronted head on. Weird feelings cropping up about a religion he thought he'd left in the dust and sand of Afghanistan and a hole he's been trying to fill up with other people since - well, he doesn't even know since when.

Tommy's got his dog tags laying in the bottom of an empty fruit bowl on his kitchen table. Eddie's never seen them before, and some part of him knows Tommy'd brought them out for a conversation with Buck he'll never hear himself, and he aches. He doesn't want them, but he wants what they have, wants to be able to talk about the difficult shit without closing in on himself, wants to have someone to come home to, wants -

"I spent six months imagining my therapist's head exploding every time she made me talk about something uncomfortable," Tommy tells him, and takes a long drag off his beer. For the first time since he'd knocked on Tommy's door, Eddie actually feels a little bad about interrupting his night, but that just leaves him spiralling some more because Eddie usually feels bad about everything, all the time, so why hadn't he felt guilty about this until now? And why does he feel guilty about not feeling guilty?

"I just want him to fix me," Eddie says, and Tommy laughs. Laughs hard and long enough that Eddie's feeling offended. Off kilter and pissed off and -

"You're not a single loose wire, Eddie. Can't just replace a cable and have a clean slate. You gotta change your oil and replace the spark plugs and top up the coolant, over and over again until you die."

It's the sort of metaphor Eddie'd like to lob across the field of engagement just to watch it get shot to pieces. It's apt, though.

"Feels like the whole engines gotta go," Eddie tells him "Transmission's shot and my catalytic converter keeps getting stolen and the mufflers been welded back on so many times that it's half-solder."

"Christ," Tommy says, which. Yeah. Exactly. "Well you can't exactly send yourself to the junk yard for scrap and buy a newer model."

"Buck does," Eddie snaps, and Tommy rolls his eyes. He'd been there the last time Buck brought up his 1.0 days.

"Half the time a system update patches ten bugs and creates twenty more."

"So Buck's buggy, is what you're saying."

He rolls his tongue over his teeth. "You are running off faulty software and you've been refusing to update to the new version because you heard it'd burn the battery faster, is what I'm saying."

Eddie doesn't have a whole lot of charge to begin with. And the metaphors are starting to muddle in his brain, too many different ideas battling around when he's already spent an ornery hour talking to Frank and another trying to convince himself he doesn't resent his best friend for accepting his own fucking flaws and working on them.

Tommy sets the beer bottle down. Eyes Eddie for a moment, and Eddie wonders how often he levels that look on Buck, how Buck feels when Tommy flays him open and digs through his insides. "You wanna go hit something for a bit?" he asks, and Eddie nods so quickly he nearly smacks his nose into the brim of the bottle in his own hand. He's about done feeling his feelings, for the moment. He'll probably end up being annoyed that Tommy makes him wrap his hands before he takes some aggression out on the bag hung up in the corner of Tommy's garage, but maybe when Tommy gets annoyed with him and does that takedown maneuver that knocks the wind out of Eddie's lungs when they're sparring he'll let that go.

Tommy flicks his forehead on the way to grab him something to wear. "That's for calling my boyfriend buggy, jackass," he says, and laughs himself all the way down the hall when Eddie splutters after him.

His bedroom door snicks shut by the time Eddie's recovered enough to remind him that he'd been Eddie's friend first.

#eddie&tommy #just a little something to tide us over until we get eddie riding the struggle bus on screen #bucktommy

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nikamuhlsrealwife777 · 6 months ago

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Anything Juju Watkins, she’s seriously underrated 🙏🏻

FOREVER YOURS - J.W.

First juju fic....kinda scared....but let me know if I should keep writing for her

"Juju...i already told you," I could feel my frustration bubbling up. Catching her in the act of kissing another girl was not on my bingo card of the year. "It's a no. I don't care what you have to say, we're done."

"baby....please...its not what it looked like," following like a lost puppy, Juju begged. I couldn't care less in the moment.

Her hand wraps around my wrist, trying to stop me from walking further away. I stopped, looking down at the contact. The calmness of her tone, it further the irritation that was brewing.

I ripped my arm from her grip, "I said I don't want to hear what you have to say. Leave me the f-"

"Y/n....calm down...okay."

"No! If you weren't sucking someone's else face...i wouldn't be acting like this!" I spun around, our eyes meeting. The hurt in her eyes made me want to calm down, but nothing was stopping the hurt that I felt. "I really thought I could trust you...and you walked all over me. My trust...my ego...my love for you. I just need some space...please."

Tears swelled in my eyes. Juju's seemed to mirror. "Okay. I can give you space," she looked down, wiping her eyes before looking back at me, "I love you."

I nod. I had nothing else to say. My legs turned me around, walking me out of the packed party. The party, that if I stayed would have burned something within me, was for the women's team defeating the undefeated UCLA. Maybe she got too cocky. But that cockiness just ruined our whole relationship.

2 weeks later....

It's been hard. I missed her more than I would like to admit. Her sarcasm used to fill the awkward moments with friends. Her jokes flowing in conversation resulting in fits of laughter. Then, her presence. It was grounding, calming, and I needed all of that in my life. But Juju was that....and she wasn't here.

I struggled to pull myself out of bed, groaning with the motion. Hating myself and the world had become a more common thing for me these days. I hated myself for not listening to the girl cause what if she really hadn't done anything. Maybe I jumped to conclusions, maybe I was a jerk, maybe I was the one who didn't deserve her. Not the other way around.

Throwing on whatever was near, I made my way out of the sloppy dorm room. Opening the door, to my surprise, I was welcomed with many holding flowers.

"uh...excuse me," he looked down at the small paper attached to the bouquet of roses, "Y/n? These are for you."

"I think you might have the wrong y/n. Nobody is gonna send me anything," I closed my door, locking before turning back around to face the guy.

"Y/n l/n....from Juju Watkins? Does that sound right?"

Shock washed over me. Why would Juju send me flowers? "Um...yeah...yeah that sounds right."

"well," he held them out, "here you go. Have a nice day, ma'am."

"than-thank you." I stood there, flowers in hand, dumbfounded. I couldn't piece together why, the woman I yelled at and refused to say 'i love you' back too, would send flowers to me.

Quickly, I read the small note attached to the stem. Hoping that it would tell me why she would.

'I know your probably not happy with me...but I wanted to send you flowers (even tho Valentine's day was a little while ago...) for V' day. I would never not get you something....but I figured it would have been stupid to send something right after everything went down. Just know, I'm sorry that what happened happened. I'm always ready to talk whenever you are. I love you too much to not wait. Love, Juju'

"it's not too much is it?" Her voice rang through my ears, my head snapping up to meet the girl I've been missing tremendously.

Juju.

Sniffling, I pulled her into a tight embrace, "I've missed you so much." The words mumbled into my shoulder. Her arms tighten their hold on around me, pulling me impossibly closer.

"I've missed you too," a broken chuckle fell from my lips, "even if I don't necessarily like you right now."

Juju's body tensed, "can we talk about...what happened, please?"

I nodded, escaping her hold to unlock the door. Opening it, I step in allowing Juju to follow.

"I'm so sorry you saw me kiss another girl....but I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. I was drunk...she was drunk....she thought I was into her....so she took her shot. I pushed her off of me, but she latched back on as you walked in. I wish I could've been able to stop you from seeing it. I would have told you what happened....i just wish everything would have went down another way. I'm sorry baby." Juju was almost begging for forgiveness. Her words sinking in, my brain deciding whether to trust her or not. Something in the way she let everything just crash through whatever dam was holding it in convinced me, convinced me that she was telling the truth.

"okay."

"okay?"

"I accept your apology and now I want kisses to make up for it," I held my arms out, hoping the girl would just go with it. To my liking, she did.

"God I've wanted to kiss you for weeks," a smirk settled on her lips, well, before her lips crashed onto mine.

My arms snaked around her neck as her hands fell to my waist. Her grip tight and dominant, almost like she would never let me go. Our lips moved against each other like they were made to be kissed by the other. A feeling of familiarity settled within me. Thoughts seemed to not form properly, other than one thought. We were meant to be, and nothing was going to get in the way of that again.

Once we were both on the verge of not breathing, we broke apart. Smiles stretched across both of our faces as the realization set in.

"I love you more than anything," I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder. Juju's arms pulling me into a hug, the warmth of her embrace calming me. The grounding feeling I had been missing not even an hour ago.

"I love you too, Y/n. More than my own life," the words seemed to effect me more than they had ever before. I felt like she truly meant it.

Nothing would ever break my trust in her again.

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

A/n : ha...ha....if this is trash, let me know and I won't ever write for juju again.

But if y'all like....let me know and I'll definitely write for her again.

(I'm truly in love with this woman....shes another one of my wives.)

#wbb #wnba basketball #wcbb #womens basketball #wbb x reader #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins

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ickytreats · 2 months ago

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Hi I was wondering if you could do one of a best friend giving reader to her (best friends)dad for father’s day’s with a some girl on girl action pls

Hey Dad! Yeah baby what's up? I got you the best father's day present! He laughs, did you? You know you don't have to. You're the best present anyone can ask for. She giggles and bites her lip excited you know how you said we can't touch anymore? Because it's too risky... He sighs I know, princess. And it's been really hard for us to deny ourselves of that... Yes it has princess ... Where are you going with this? She grabs her Dad's hand and drags him to her room. I wanted you to feel good on Father's Day. We talked about this little girl we can't- I know! I know! But I also know you get tired of that silly toy of yours...

She opens her bedroom door and there she is. Her best friend tied up all pretty knots, bows, a gag, and even a little card attached saying Happy Father's Day. All in Dad's favorite color too of course. He quickly gets hard and takes a sharp breath as his eyes widen. Baby, what is this? He looks at her and his daughter just smiles and giggles. It's your present, dad! She walks over to the bed climbing in with her best friend. Leaning close to the other girl and running a hand over her body. Don't you like it? Put her in all the things you like...and she's willing to do all the things you want. He watches as his daughter grabs her best friend's tits and starts playing with them. She whines into the gag and looks at him with those pretty eyes.

Fuck...princess...I can't- he takes a deep breath. He knows he's rock hard at the sight, he knows they can see his bulge, and he loves it. I can't do that... Why not? Don't you like your present? I-i do! Then why can't you enjoy it? You know we can't- exactly WE can't... You never said my best friend was off limits... We don't have to teach each other... Just her. He watches as his daughter pulls the other girls gag off and kisses her. He groans at the sight of the two girls kissing. He can't help himself but walk over to the bed as they pull away from each other. Let me be a good Father's Day present to you sir... You've always been so good to me. Just like a Dad should be... Let us repay you.

His daughter reaches for his waist band and he stops her. You know you can't touch Dad like that, his hand pulling hers away. I'm just helping, she pouts and looks up at him. She's all tied up...she needs guidance, her hands find her Dad's waist band again and pull them down. His cock bobbing up and down with excitement. He watches as his daughter grabs her best friend by the hair and guides her to his cock. Are you sure you are okay with this? She nods and looks up at him I want to do this for you sir... She kisses the tip of his cock before slowly taking him into her mouth making him moan.

She bobs her head with the guidance of her best friend who can't help but whine. I wish that was me...I miss sucking your cock, Dad. She looks up at her father with needy eyes and he moans louder. I know you do...little girl always loved to suck Dad's cock but she can't anymore. He watches as his daughter nods and huff choosing to push her best friends head more making her choke. Then pulling her back by the hair letting her pant and show off how messy she already is. Fuck, your cock is so big... Both girls can't help but giggle. You did such a good job taking it, he grabs the girl and turns her then pushes her onto her stomach.

You know... You've always been like a Dad to me... Expect you can actually fuck me... Isn't that great? She giggles and he grunts while spreading her legs. Taking in the sight of her already wet cunt. She's ready for you, Dad... Why don't you go lay in front of her? Spread those legs. Really? You can't touch me but you can touch her, we both can touch her. He watches as his daughter rushes over and spreads herself in front of her best friend. If I'm so much like a Dad to you...why don't you go ahead and eat your sisters cunt while Dad fucks yours? With that he is pushing the girls head towards his daughter's cunt. She doesn't think twice before latching onto her best friends clit making her moan.

He shakes his head with a smile, you got me a slut for Father's Day, baby. He drags his cock up and down his daughter's friend cunt. Only the best for you Dad... You deserve it. She moans and grinds her cunt onto her best friend's tongue. She looks at her Dad while biting her lip and bringing a hand to play with her tits. Dad has a hand in her best friend's hair and the other is guiding his cock into her cunt. She watches him moan and feels her best friend moan against her. God, I wish that was me... She whimpers as she watches Dad start to fuck her friend. I wish it was too...but you know we can't. You can't have Dad's cock.

The room is full of moans and skin slapping. Can I cum? Please can I cum for you Dad? She moans and then squeals when she feels her best friend push her tongue deeper into her cunt. Go ahead, baby. And you, he pushes her best friend's face deeper. Good job...keep pushing her closer. Both girls nod as they work for that high. Cumming! His daughter squeals as she cums hard and falls flat on the bed. So pretty while cumming...isn't she? He slaps the girls bottom and fucks into her hard making her gasp. Yes sir! She came so pretty and she taste so fucking good.

She digs her head into the sheets only for Dad to grab her hair tighter and pull. Lifting her head up, I want to hear you. Hear how you take an older guys cock...one that apperantly is like a Dad to you...isn't that right? She's moaning loud y-yes! Can I please cum too? Please can I cum all over your cock, sir? He moans as he feels himself getting close too. Sir? Is that what you call me? After admitting that? Dad! Please Dad can I cum!? She squeals trying to move her tied arms. Cum on Dad's cock little girl. Thank you! She squeals as he grunts and keeps fucking her through her orgasm.

Fuck! Too much! Too much! She squeals in overstimulation. His daughter sitting up again and grabbing her face. Dad's almost done... You can take it. They kiss again as Dad keeps fucking into her chasing his own high. Fuck! Both of you over here now! He pulls out and eagerly pumps his cock in his hand. He watches his daughter drag her best friend friend into the perfect position. Looking up at him as he keeps stroking. I may not be able to take your cock but I can have your cum... Right dad? Yes, he pants and moans as he looks down at them. Please cum for us...show us how much you enjoyed this Father's Day.

With a loud moan he covers both girls in his cum. Dragging the tip of his cock on his daughter's best friend's tongue, making her clean it up. His daughter whines still denied Dad's cock, share. She says as she pulls her best friend close and kisses her again. Both girls share his cum as they do and he watches. Once they pull away and look up at him again they both smile. Happy Father's Day! They giggle and he leans down kissing his daughters best friend. Once he pulls away he looks at his little girl. Just this once because you have been such a good girl for Dad and got him the best present. He kisses her too and she leans in eagerly.

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jeonginsleftcheek · 6 months ago

Text

Catch me when I fall (2)

THIS IS DIVIDED INTO 2 PARTS CAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME🫠🫠

~ PART 1

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut

wc: 9.4k (30.6 both parts)

synopsis: An artist finds inspiration in a dancer, and the dancer finds hope inside the artist's paintings.

warnings: multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral(f and m) light bondage & restraints, fingering, spanking, face fucking, creampies

a/n: once again a hyunjin fic that i made too long hskdlc so this is the second part! enjoy🩷 (i still suck at french, and also idk shit about bowling so i skipped through it a little lmao)

~ masterlist

~ divider by @strangergraphics

As promised, you woke up to Hyunjin smiling down at you, propped up on his elbow while he caressed your face.

"Good morning, ma chérie. Did you sleep well?" he asked as you nuzzled into his palm like a kitten.

"Mhm. Did you?"

"Next to you, of course I did." he leaned down to kiss your forehead and your face flushed.

"You know, I think we should go out somewhere today, do something fun. You've been cooped up in your house and you need some fresh air in your lungs." he added.

"You're right. Though I wouldn't mind spending the entire day in bed with you." you nuzzled into his neck and Hyunjin snickered.

"Doing what?" he teased, his fingertips ghosting on your waist.

"You know..." you muttered, hiding your face in embarrassment.

"No, I don't. You have to tell me." Hyunjin smirked and you huffed and looked up at him.

"I'm not saying anything." you pouted and he laughed, kissing your pout away.

"Maybe you could show me later." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Maybe I could." you smirked, carding your fingers through his hair.

"Besides those fun activities, is there something you want to do outside?" Hyunjin asked as he closed his eyes and sighed, basking in your touch.

"Ice skating." you said and he looked at you, chuckling nervously.

"Ice skating? I've never been." he admitted, his cheeks red.

"Really? You seem like a 'try everything at least once person', and ice skating is like a mild normal activity unlike bungee jumping and other stuff you told me you did." you chuckled.

"I guess it is. I just always avoided it for some reason. But it'll be fun to try something new with you." he smiled.

Hyunjin didn't want to leave you alone at all and you still felt a little weak, needing to have him next to you so you could lean on him. So, you spent the day together until it was evening, and you got ready, happy to finally be out and about.

Hyunjin waited for you and when you came out of your room in a cute sweater, looking bundled up and ready for the cold weather, his heart melted. He stood up from the couch, taking large strides towards you as you looked at him with eyes wide. He smirked as he stood closer, hand reaching out towards you as he hooked his finger in the belt loop on your jeans and pulled you into him.

"Precious." he whispered as he started kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, your heart beating fast as he kissed you so sweetly, making your insides burst in little fireworks. "Let's go."

The two of you first stopped at Hyunjin's house so he could get changed before you made your way to the ice skating rink, both giddy with excitement.

"So, I am going to hold onto the railing." Hyunjin said when the two of you finally stepped, or rather slipped onto the ice. You chuckled at his cute, panicked face as he gripped at the glass railing, looking absolutely lost, his eyes becoming big while he scanned the rink.

"Those people are moving really fast." Hyunjin gulped and you laughed harder.

"Go ahead, laugh at my misery." he pouted dramatically.

"Hyunjin, you will ace this as soon as you let go of your fear. Come on, give me your hand." you reached out towards him and he eyed your hand suspiciously.

"Do you trust me?" you asked softly and he looked into your eyes, his face softening immediately.

"I trust you." he said and took your hand in his.

"We'll go slowly at first." you said, leading him away from the railing.

"Oh god." he slipped a little, grabbing onto your arm with both hands.

"Relax." you tried to calm him down. "Have you ever been on rollerblades?"

"Maybe twice." he grimaced.

"Fine, channel that into your legs. Just glide slowly." you said and he huffed cutely, trying to hold his balance even though he almost slipped a few times.

He looked so adorable, holding your hand in a deathly grip as he sucked his bottom lip in, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He almost seemed like a cute child, angry at the ice for making him slip on it. Slowly, but surely Hyunjin was gliding through the ice rink with you.

"You're doing it!" you giggled.

"I'm doing it!" he giggled too, before it became a full on laugh which proved to be a mistake as Hyunjin shrieked suddenly, losing balance. You reached out for him but it was too late, he had already collided with the icy ground.

"Ouch." he wailed, grabbing at his lower back.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!" you gasped.

"My butt hurts." he pouted at you.

"It'll be fine." you chuckled, helping him up. "Skate it off." you added as he grabbed onto the railing.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be." he kept pouting as he looked at you.

"If I kiss you, will it be more fun?" you pressed closer to him and he smiled instantly.

"Mhm." he nodded fervently, his little curls bouncing around his face. You giggled as you grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your lips into his.

"Better?" you asked against his lips.

"Hmm. One more?" Hyunjin smirked.

"Sure." you chuckled, kissing him again.

It wasn't only one more but after you had finally parted, Hyunjin was more energized to try again. Pretty soon, the fall was forgotten as he got the hang of it, the two of you skating easily on the ice, the music urging you on. You couldn't stop laughing in joy, your heart swelling at the sight of Hyunjin being so truly happy.

When you finished, Hyunjin was buzzing.

"Oh my god, that was so fun! And my ass is not even hurting that much anymore." he noted and you started laughing.

"I'm glad you had fun. I knew you were going to like it." you said as the two of you started walking.

"Did you have fun?" he asked.

"Of course I did."

"That's the most important thing then. I wanted to see you smile, ma chérie, it's the prettiest thing." he smirked as your hands brushed.

You blushed immediately and he grabbed your hand, gently entwining your fingers.

"Thank you." you said, looking away from him.

"Don't hide from me." Hyunjin said, pulling you into a sweet hug. You looked up at him and the world disappeared like it always did once you got lost in his warm eyes.

"Wanna come to my place?" he whispered.

"Yes."

The two of you got some street food to eat on the way so you don't have to cook or wait for food to be ordered since you had other plans in mind.

As soon as you stepped into Hyunjin's apartment, you were pinned to the wall. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt a wave wash through your heated body.

"I missed you, mon cœur." he brushed his lips against yours. "Missed being close to you."

"H-Hyunjin." you whimpered quietly as his hands gripped at your hips, slowly sliding to your waist.

"I missed you too." you added, playing with his curls before entwining your fingers in them and pulling a little.

"Sweetheart." Hyunjin moaned when you pulled his head back and attached your lips to his neck. His legs trembled while you sucked love bites into his skin and he pressed up against you, making you feel his erection brushing against your thigh.

"Y/n." Hyunjin was losing himself, slowly grinding against you. "Mm." he moaned as you licked at the sore spots you had created.

The way he looked at you when you parted from his neck made your pussy clench. His eyes were full of hunger, darkened with lust.

"I want to try something with you." he grabbed your face gently. "Will you let me?"

"I-I don't know what it is." you stuttered, gripping at his waist.

"Let me show you, darling. You can say no if you're not into it." he smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you to his guest room. "Don't be scared." he added softly as he noticed the nervous look on your face.

You had no idea what to expect as he opened the door but it was definitely not the confusing contraption hanging from his ceiling.

"What..." you chuckled nervously. "Is that...?"

"A sex swing." Hyunjin finished your sentence with a smirk. "Thought it would be appropriate for you." he added and you smacked his arm as he laughed, your cheeks heating up.

"When did you even get it?" you asked.

"After the first night you spent here."

"Wow, you planned ahead." you giggled.

"So, you wanna try it? We don't have to." Hyunjin smiled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest. He nuzzled into your neck and exhaled, you could feel his warmth radiating onto your body and even though he seemed calm you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He wanted you so much in that moment, in any way you'd let him have you.

"I wanna try it." you whispered, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

"Really?" Hyunjin asked excitedly. "Now?"

"Yes, now." you chuckled at his eagerness. His expression changed from an excited puppy to a hungry wolf in a milisecond, making your gut swarm with excitement.

"You do know you'll be completely at my mercy, my darling?" he smirked, brushing his lips against your jaw.

"I know." you said, biting on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of lust.

Hyunjin turned you around, kissing you fervently as his hands grabbed at your body, asking you to take your clothes off. Your hands were busy on his body too, sliding under his shirt and touching his abs and chest. His legs buckled each time you touched him, you had such power over him as he had over you, both of you completely infatuated with one another.

When your clothes were finally off, Hyunjin's eyes traveled all over your body hungrily.

"Let's get you swingin'." he said and you chuckled, how he managed to be sexy yet silly at the same time was beyond you. He led you to the swing, assuring you it was safe as he took all the precautions, installing it and checking it beforehand.

You felt excited and a bit nervous but you knew Hyunjin would stop if you asked him to and he'd never hurt you. He helped you sit up as he strapped your hands in first, restricting your movements. Arousal grew inside you as your pussy throbbed, wet with your slick.

"Tell me if something is too tight or uncomfortable." Hyunjin said as he started strapping your legs in.

"It's fine for now." you said.

Your mind didn't process how spread open you were actually going to be until after Hyunjin had secured both your legs in, your pussy lips opening up as you were positioned in almost a complete split. You shut your eyes tight in embarrassment at being like this in front of Hyunjin.

"You're so beautiful, ma chérie." Hyunjin's voice sounded husky as his fingertips traveled on your inner thighs to your tummy and waist, teasing you as you twitched under each and every touch of his, making you open your eyes and look at him.

"Une œuvre d'art." he whispered as he slid his fingers through your welcoming folds.

You moaned at his words and touch as Hyunjin observed you, moving his fingers so slowly, barely touching you and you whimpered, struggling against your restraints, your legs trying to close to get some friction but you were stuck.

"Patience, my darling. Je tiens à toi." he whispered as he kneeled in front of your pussy, his hot breath hitting you and making you clench around nothing. Hyunjin leaned in and kissed your pussy, teasing you and making your legs shake as you whined for him to give you more. He ignored your whimpers and kept leaving small kisses on your lower lips before he put his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

"Hyunjin!" you whimpered as arousal gushed from you. "M-more." you begged, your hands grabbing at the restraints holding them. Your legs were already trembling and he didn't even do anything, you were turned on like never before, the way he had you posed for him made you want to burst.

Hyunjin licked at your entrance, his tongue playful and skilled, making you moan loudly again as your body trembled, shaking the entire swing just a little. You threw your head back as Hyunjin started making out with your pussy, your breasts trembling as you kept shivering. Hyunjin gripped at your thighs and ass, massaging it and enjoying your taste and the view.

He had always admired the way your body could contort and he didn't even dare to dream of laying a hand on you, the ethereal being flying in the sky. But here you were, suspended in air and spread beatifully just for him to enjoy you. Hyunjin's eyes rolled back as your entire body shook against his lips and he moaned into you, his brows furrowing as he slurped up your essence. Your orgasm hit you like a wave that crashed into Hyunjin's tongue as he savored the sweet taste of you, lapping up every drop.

"You taste so sweet, my muse." Hyunjin licked around his lips before kissing your pussy again.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered, tears of pleasure already gathered in your eyes.

"Shh, I got you." his fingertips slid between your folds before he slowly pushed two fingers in, your pussy taking him easily. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up as Hyunjin leaned over you while slowly fucking you open, his other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. He lifted your head up a little and kissed you passionately, pushing his tongue in deep and making you taste yourself as he took your breath away. He fucked you faster as he kept kissing you, swallowing every moan you were letting out. Your legs were shaking again, trying to close around his arm from all the stimulation but you couldn't move.

"Ah!" you parted from his lips only to moan against them as you squirted on Hyunjin's hand.

"Good girl." he smirked and you whimpered as he leaned down to kiss your face, helping you come down a little.

"Mon cœur, I need you to prep me a little." he smirked, walking around the swing to stand behind you. You gasped quietly when you realized what he wanted to do so you let your head fall backwards. Hyunjin smirked, standing closer to your face as he pressed the tip of his cock on your lips. You opened them and he slowly pushed in as much as he could, fucking your face gently as he held the back of your neck, his other hand cupping your breasts and playing with your sensitive nipples. Your eyes were shut tightly as you relaxed your throat and Hyunjin groaned, the feeling of your warm and wet mouth around him and the sight of you surrendering completely to him drove him insane. He pushed in and out a few more times, hands gripping your breasts harder.

"Fuck." he gasped, pulling out. "I almost came." he added, looking surprised. You coughed a little, lifting your head up.

"Are you okay, darling?" he asked.

"Yes, please, I need you." you looked up at him with glassy eyes and how was he supposed to deny you? Hyunjin positioned himself between your legs, pushing his cock in slowly so you could feel him stretching you inch by inch and you whimpered at how easily he slid in, with you being so opened.

"Hyunjin." you moaned his name as he buried himself to the hilt within your warmth.

"My angel. You feel perfect. Made for me." he looked at you like you were everything as his large hands gripped at you, his hips starting to move.

"Made for you." you repeated in trance as Hyunjin started fucking you harder, losing himself in the feeling of you taking him so well. Your body was burning up, shaking and sweating as you moaned loudly, no one had ever been this deep inside you, hit all the places that Hyunjin has. The swing was moving slightly in tandem with the two of you, aiding to the feeling of Hyunjin splitting you apart.

Your head fell back as you moaned loudly at him hitting your sweet spot and Hyunjin shook, gripping at you. You let out a loud whimper as you came, exploding around his length and squirting on him again.

"Y/n." Hyunjin groaned as he pulled out, grabbing at the swing and breathing hard.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked breathlessly.

"Want you in another position before I cum." he smirked.

"Okay." you nodded, your heart beating out of your chest. Hyunjin then carefully removed the restraints from your legs, letting them fall down and relax a little before he did the same for your arms.

"Feeling good?" he asked and you nodded with a smile. His cock was red and throbbing, you knew he was close yet he didn't chase his high instantly, he still took a moment to take care of you. Your heart swelled and all you wanted was to give him pleasure like he gave to you.

"How do you want me?" you asked.

Instead of answering, Hyunjin turned you around, spreading your legs and securing them in the restraints. You let out a breath as he tied your hands next. Your feet were just barely touching the floor, your legs spread again as you shivered, looking back at Hyunjin to see him stroking his cock slowly.

"Ready to take me, mon cœur?" he asked.

"Yes."

Hyunjin slowly pushed in again, giving all of his length to you as you took him in greedily. He gripped at your hips, fucking into your harder and faster than before. Your loud whimpers together with the loud sound of skin slapping skin brought Hyunjin close to the edge immediately. He grabbed at your hair, pulling your head back as you arched your back for him while he pounded into you.

"So good, so perfect, ma chérie. You're so perfect." he kept mumbling and groaning while he fucked you, his free hand slapping your ass a few times. You exploded around him again and Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your breasts as he came, pushing his warm cum deep inside your core.

"H-Hyunjin." you moaned.

"Y/n." he whispered, kissing your neck as he slid out of you, his cum dripping down your inner thigh. He held onto you for a moment before carefully getting you out of the swing and scooping you up in his arms.

Hyunjin took you straight to the shower, running warm soothing water over the two of you.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he smiled at you as he held your face in his palms.

"More than okay." you nodded with a smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you for trusting me." Hyunjin kissed your cheeks gently.

"Of course." you kissed his pouty lips, completely forgetting about the pain living inside you.

As the snow outside started melting away, the ice around your heart melted too, turning into an avalanche that struck at the wall around Hyunjin's heart, making it crumble and leaving him unprotected, both of you now vulnerable and open to each other.

There was hope for the future, for your future.

The days got longer as the sun traveled higher in the sky, everything was waking up, all the birds, insects and flowers were finally coming to life, thriving in the warmth of the spring.

You had taken a little walk after getting some groceries you needed for tonight, as you'd be cooking for Hyunjin at his apartment. You had originally planned for him to come to your place but he had insisted on helping you with dinner even when you were adamant on doing it alone.

Along your walk you picked up some flowers for Hyunjin, seeing how he loved painting them all the time, almost as much as he loved painting you.

"Hyunnie, I'm here." you announced as you walked into his apartment but there was no answer.

"Hyunjin?" you repeated his name as you walked into the living room. You heard some faint music coming from his room behind the closed doors and you recognized the music as his 'painting music'. With a smile spreading on your face, you made your way to his room, carrying the flowers.

When you opened the door, you were met with the cutest sight ever. Hyunjin was sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of a big canvas, various brushes and paints thrown around him, his hair in a half up-do as he concentrated.

"Oh, y/n." Hyunjin jumped a little when he felt your presence. You giggled at him endearingly, noticing a streak of yellow paint on his cheek.

"You have paint on your left cheek." you said and Hyunjin reached up to wipe at his right cheek.

"Left cheek." you snickered.

"Oh." Hyunjin chuckled in embarrassment, wiping at his face.

"You're just spreading it everywhere now." you laughed, shaking your head.

"Stop laughing and come help me." he pouted cutely and you couldn't resist him. You grabbed some wet wipes and came closer to him and he pulled you into his lap immediately.

"Nice." he smirked.

"Oh, this was your plan all along, to get me into your lap?" you smirked back.

"Mhm." Hyunjin nuzzled into you, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"What are you working on?" you asked as you started to turn around.

"No, don't look! It's not done yet." he quickly grabbed your face, making you look at him and squishing your cheeks as you whined. "It's for my new exhibition and it's a gift for you and you can't look at it until it's finished."

"Okay, okay, I won't look." you chuckled, grabbing his hands and kissing his fingertips softly.

"Did someone give you flowers?" Hyunjin's eyes widened a little as he nodded at the bouquet you had left on his table when you grabbed the wet wipes.

"No silly, I got those for you." you pressed your lips on his forehead.

"You got me flowers?" he blinked at you cutely.

"Yeah, I just thought they were pretty and you like to paint them so..." you trailed off, your cheeks becoming rosy.

"That's so sweet, mon cœur. Thank you." Hyunjin smiled, his dimples showing.

"You're welcome, mon chéri." you smirked and he laughed, throwing his head back.

"Someone has been studying their French." he joked, brushing his lips against yours.

"Maybe, just a little bit." you giggled before Hyunjin closed the small gap between you, kissing you sweetly. The kiss got heated quickly as always between the two of you and you broke it off as Hyunjin's hands started to wander.

"We have plans, remember?" you narrowed your eyes at him and he smiled cheekily.

"Ugh, just a quick one." he teased you, his hands sliding under your shirt.

"Quick does not exist with you, it's always hours." you laughed and Hyunjin chuckled with you.

"Can you blame me? It's your fault." he stuck his tongue out and you giggled.

"Right." you rolled your eyes. "Let's get ready, we have all night later."

"Okay." Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you but still didn't let you get up, not after he got a few more kisses from you.

You managed to get ready after some time and Hyunjin drove to your destination. You always wanted to try bowling and Hyunjin was always excited for active dates, enjoying the thrill and the competition that would lead from teasing to something more.

"Oh, this is really heavy." you struggled as you tried to pick up the ball.

"The beginners one is lighter, let's get you started with that one." Hyunjin said and you nodded, excited to learn something new.

Hyunjin was a good teacher, he was patient and sweet but he also teased you the entire time. Every little touch was purposeful, he made sure to press his body against yours any moment he could, making you shiver as you were always weak for him. Even with all that you had managed to come close to a strike a few times.

Hyunjin was skilled, hitting all the pins perfectly almost every single time. All the work out made you both hungry and you were ready to go home and start on the dinner you had planned. When you got closer to the exit, you noticed it was raining hard outside and neither of you remembered to bring an umbrella, not when Hyunjin drove you there. But, the car was at the end of the parking lot, meaning you'd have to gun it to get there and you'd still get soaked.

You smirked in mischief as Hyunjin turned to look at you.

"What?" he asked.

"Catch me if you can." you chuckled as you pulled open the door and bolted outside.

"Y/n!" Hyunjin squealed in shock, his eyes wide and lips falling open. You laughed at his expression as you started running towards his car.

He shook his head as a smile spread on his face before he ran outside too, the parking lot filled with squeals and laughter. Hyunjin was quickly coming closer and you screamed as he reached out to grab you but before he could, he slipped and fell down right into a puddle of water.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you gasped, running back to him immediately.

"I keep falling for you." he said, shaking the water off like a dog as he slowly stood up.

"Cheesy." you laughed at the state of him and Hyunjin couldn't resist you, grabbing your face as the two of you stood in the rain, completely soaked.

"I'm so in love with you, y/n." Hyunjin said when you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, your heart leaping out of your chest.

"I'm so in love with you too." you confessed and Hyunjin smiled happily, crashing his lips on yours. You didn't care about the cold rain drenching the both of you because it had washed away any fear you had in your heart.

"I'm in love with you, y/n!" Hyunjin yelled to no one in particular as you parted.

"Shut up, oh my god." you laughed, trying to cover his lips but he kept moving his head away and laughing as he yelled about being in love.

"Hyunnie, we're gonna get sick, let's go." you warned him, pulling him towards the car.

He hurried up then, turning the heating on in the car even though it didn't help much. When you got to his apartment, both of you shed the cold wet clothes and stepped into the shower.

His hands were on your waist instantly as he started kissing your shoulders and upper back. You shivered as you still felt the cold from the rain and Hyunjin pulled you into his body. You closed your eyes, feeling like you were floating away with him. Nothing could hurt you when he held you like this.

"Let me help you with dinner." Hyunjin pouted later, as you got ready to cook.

"No, I want to make this for you. Go paint or something." you chuckled, trying to pry his hands off of you.

"Can't I at least watch?" he kept pouting at you, his arms not budging at your attempts of moving them away.

"No." you smirked, finally slipping away from his grasp as he sighed dramatically.

"Fine, I'll wait in the living room." he said and walked away, sulking. You giggled at him as you started making dinner, humming to yourself. You leaned over a few times to check on Hyunjin and he was sitting on the sofa, watching something on the tv. He looked so cute so you turned the stove off for a moment and skipped to him.

He was about to turn around before you grabbed him and gave him a big smooch right on the top of his head, inhaling the shampoo he used earlier.

"Ma chérie." he leaned his head back to look at you, his cheeks rosy. "Do you need help?"

"No, it's almost done. Just wanted to kiss you." you smiled.

"Kiss me then." he smirked and you leaned in, giving him a sensual upside down kiss.

"I hope this is a teaser for dessert." Hyunjin whispered when you parted.

"Mhm." you chuckled before going back to the kitchen to finish up.

"Something smells nice." Hyunjin strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later, his stomach growling as he clutched onto it. "Is it done?" he tilted his head at you.

"It is." you smiled.

"What did you make?" he asked excitedly as the two of you sat down.

"It's cappelletti filled pasta with homemade meat sauce. I prepared the sauce beforehand, otherwise we'd be sitting here for hours, waiting for it to cook."

"Oh, it sounds delicious." Hyunjin smiled cutely as you took some out on his plate.

You waited for his reaction in anticipation as he brought the pasta to his lips, furrowing his brows and tasting it before his eyes widened and he let out a little hum of approval.

"This is delicious, mon cœur." he smiled.

"Thank you, lover." Hyunjin blushed at the nickname and you matched his rosy cheeks as both of you looked back at your plates.

After the wonderful meal, Hyunjin thanked you again and made you sit down so he could clean up. You wanted to help but he insisted that since you cooked, he should show his appreciation and clean it up. You sat, drinking your wine and observing him. There was something so simple and easy to being with him, you had no problem imagining a future where Hyunjin would be a part of it forever. You needed to hold him so you stood up, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him a little as you leaned your cheek on his back.

"Angel." he smiled.

"Hyunnie." you rubbed your cheek against him.

"I'm done. We can have dessert now." he turned around to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Mhm. Can't wait." you giggled and he led you to his room.

"I have something for you." Hyunjin said, opening the drawer of his nightstand. You chuckled, he was always so imaginative and experimental when it came to anything, even in the bedroom.

"What is it now?" you asked with a knowing smile.

Hyunjin took out a rope and a blindfold and you lifted your brow at him.

"You're tying me up?" you chuckled, your face heating up.

"No, you're tying me up." he smirked at you.

"Oh. I am?" your heart skipped a beat.

"Mhm. I want to be at your mercy, mon cœur." Hyunjin's eyes became hazy.

"Okay." you nodded, coming closer to him. "You want me to have my way with you, use you?" you asked, teasingly touching his abs and chest.

"Yes, please chérie. Use me." he whimpered quietly as you squeezed at his body.

Hyunjin leaned in, kissing you slowly as his tongue circled yours and played with it and you were already getting so wet, wanting to be as close as you could to him. The two of you slowly stripped and Hyunjin laid on the bed, looking up at you lustfully, his eyes fluttering.

He was giving himself to you completely, putting his hands above his head so you could tie him up.

"How long will you manage to take not being able to see me or touch me?" you snickered.

"Not very long." he chuckled at you as you started tying his hands up.

"This should be fun. Close your eyes." you said and he did so, letting you put the blinfold over his eyes. You leaned back and looked at him, your sweet Hyunjin laid out before you, his lean body on display only for you to worship. He was so beautiful everywhere that you had no idea where to start. His plump lips so pouty and pink, invited you to kiss them first so you leaned in and pressed your lips into his. He whimpered quietly when you moved away, his heart beating faster in anticipation of where you were going to touch him.

Your put your hands on his hips and slowly slid them up on his v-line, your thumbs caressing his defined abs. Hyunjin shivered under you, his fingertips digging into the soft ropes instantly. You leaned in closer, letting your breath hit the skin right under his collarbone. Hyunjin took in a sharp inhale as you started kissing him, your lips slowly traveling down towards his happy trail, your tongue darting out occasionally to lick at his skin. Your hair tickled him as you kept going lower. Hyunjin anticipated your lips closer to his dick that was becoming hard for you, but you leaned away, teasing him.

He whined quietly and you giggled, your hands running up his dainty waist to his perky nipples. He groaned louder as you touched them, flicking them with your thumbs before pinching them a few times as you leaned in and kissed his neck. Hyunjin's head fell back as he moaned quietly while you kissed and licked at his skin, sucking on his adam's apple.

"Y/n." he moaned your name, getting more worked up as you teased him with your lips and hands. His hips started lifting up on their own accord, looking for some kind of friction. You kissed his shoulder and his arm, lips traveling to his chest and down again. This time your tongue darted out to play with the happy trail leading to his hard cock.

"Ah!" he moaned, gripping at the rope harder. Your hands squeezed at his hips as you kissed around his cock and bit at the flesh of his inner thighs.

"Ma chérie. Mon petit ange." he moaned out and you giggled breathlessly, hovering over his leaky cock.

"Hyunnie." you whispered before you licked up the pre-cum oozing out of his tip.

"Mm." he moaned, his head falling to the side as you teased at his slit with your tongue. He kept letting out shaky breaths as you played with him before you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls gently.

"D-darling." Hyunjin stuttered, his hips lifting up into you. You moaned around him, sliding down more as you took him in.

Hyunjin was losing himself quickly, the blindfold seemed to triple his senses, making him even more sensitive to your touches. His hands strained against the ropes as he slowly fucked up into your mouth, making you gag a little.

"Mm, my darling." Hyunjin moaned as you sucked on him faster, your hand wrapping around his length to give him more stimulation. He couldn't control his hips as they snapped up and you felt him twitch inside your mouth but you weren't done with him yet. You leaned back and he whimpered loudly, his body shuddering.

"I'm taking the blindfold off." you whispered as you hovered over him.

"Okay." he was breathless as you leaned over him and pulled the cloth off. He blinked a few times before looking up at you and you didn't even give him any time to adjust as you grabbed his cock and pressed it against your folds. Both of you moaned as you slowly slid down on him until you were filled up completely, his cock buried within you.

"Mm, you feel so good Hyunjin." you moaned, throwing your head back, closing your eyes as your pussy clenched around him.

"You feel perfect, ma chérie. Please, fuck me." he begged, making you whimper as you dripped around his length. You started moving slowly, adjusting to the position and having him buried deep inside you as Hyunjin laid there, letting you use him. He filled you up so perfectly and you lost yourself on top of him, bouncing faster and harder, your hips slapping against his as you threw your head back.

Hyunjin moaned loudly as he watched you fuck on him, your tits bouncing, your beautiful body on top of his, your sweet pussy stuffed full of his cock.

"My goddess. My muse." he whined and your eyes snapped open as you looked at him hungrily. You needed his hands on you and you leaned over him to untie them, bringing his wrists to your lips as you kissed them, slowly circling your hips on him. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky before he wrapped his arms around you as you started bouncing up and down again.

"My lover." you tangled your hands in his hair and Hyunjin moaned loudly, flipping you over and making you squeal in surprise.

"Need you." he mumbled into your neck as he started snapping his hips into yours. You grabbed at his upper back, your nails digging into his skin as you moaned his name loudly. His hand came between you to rub at your clit as his other tangled in your hair, pulling lightly. You unraveld around him and he followed, his hips stuttering as he moaned desperately, rutting into you and riding his high.

"Hyun." you whispered when he leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard.

"Best dessert ever." he breathed out, making you laugh. You stayed connected for a few more moments as you came down from your high.

"I'll be right back." Hyunjin said before he disappeared to the bathroom and you laid waiting for him, your heart still beating fast. He came back quickly, cleaning you up.

"I'm thirsty." you sat up a little, looking for your panties.

"I'll bring you some water, just sit tight." Hyunjin said while he clumsily put his boxers on, almost falling over as he started jumping on one leg. You giggled from the bed, stealing his shirt and putting it on as he looked at you with playful annoyance. When he came back he stood and looked at you for a moment and you looked up from your phone with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" you asked.

"You look so cute, I could eat you up." Hyunjin smirked as he stalked closer to the bed. Suddenly he started making weird growling noises as he crawled towards you and you squealed, laughing and moving away.

"Stop that!" you laughed as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you to him, making you scream.

"Got ya!" Hyunjin hovered over you, trapping you with his legs as he started tickling your sides.

"Sto-op!" you begged through breathless laughter, trying to push him away as he kept attacking you with his fingertips on your sides and tummy.

You kept laughing as he grinned at you, torturing you until your face became red.

"Ugghhh whyyyy?" you whined when Hyunjin finally calmed down.

"You're just too cute." he smirked, burying his face in your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"So I get attacked?" you whined again and he laughed.

"With tickles and kisses." Hyunjin grabbed your face gently, kissing you lovingly.

"I'm still thirsty." you said and he chuckled.

"Oh, right." he grabbed the forgotten water bottle, giving it to you. "My shirts look so good on you, better than when I wear them." he added.

"I doubt that but thank you." you smirked.

"Are you tired, mon cœur?" Hyunjin asked.

"Mhm." you nuzzled into his pillow and Hyunjin laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms immediately.

"Sweet dreams, darling." he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Your dreams, however were not sweet and you woke up in sweat and panicked as you grabbed at Hyunjin.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered and he hummed a little, his brows furrowed confusedly.

"Hyunjin, wake up." you whispered, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Chérie? What's wrong?" he opened one eye as he looked at you all disheveled and still sleepy, before realizing you were crying, it making his eyes widen as he awakened completely and sat up.

"I- I had a nightmare." you hiccuped, grabbing at his arm.

"What nightmare dares torture my baby?" Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer.

"You were gone. I lost you." you said with pain in your voice as you buried your face in his chest, wanting to just disappear inside his arms, melt into him and become one, be with him always, be safe.

"No, my darling, you'll never lose me. I'm right here. It's okay, shh." he caressed your head as you cried.

"You're not allowed to leave me." you whimpered.

"I won't, y/n. You're stuck with me." Hyunjin said and you looked up at him. He started wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he looked at you with a gentle smile and sparkly eyes.

"Good, I want to be stuck with you." you admitted and his smile widened.

"I think after all the shit life threw at us, we shouldn't waste a chance if we have a good thing. You know I'm in this for the long run, you're not just some random girl or a rebound." he held your face in his hands delicately.

"I agree with you. You're definitely not just some random guy to me either." you said and Hyunjin chuckled, kissing your lips.

"Let's get some sleep. I promise I'll be here."

And Hyunjin was there. Every single performance you had, he'd watch religiously like he did from the moment he found you, cheering for you from the gallery. Only now, you knew he was sitting there so you'd always throw a little wink at him between poses. Hyunjin's heart fluttered every time you did that. He was there when it got tough, when you'd wake up sad and nostalgic, he'd come to you and hold you without any words, sometimes letting you just cry it out if you needed it.

You didn't want to completely throw away the memory of your late husband and Hyunjin never asked you to do that, he only asked you to be there for him like he's been there for you. There was nothing more you wanted than to support him equally, as you came to all his exhibitions like always, and this time they were inspired by you, all the paintings of you dancing were displayed on the wall. 'Up in the air' was the name of the exhibition he worked so hard on, focusing only on you and the art you produced with your body.

Summer had passed blissfully, simmering down into a warm beginning of the next season. The leaves started changing color, nature painting its own canvas as Hyunjin and you painted yours. He felt it in his bones, how much he came to love you so naturally, so easily. Hyunjin couldn't imagine his life without your wonderful presence. You felt the same, like your heart would burst from the love you had for him, something you thought you'd never feel again.

It was a sunny morning after you spent another night at Hyunjin's apartment, the evidence of your presence everywhere. The two wine glasses that you never bothered to wash left on the table as you got busy kissing each other. Your clothes strewn all over the floor of Hyunjin's bedroom. His bed messy, his pillow smelled like your shampoo, his sheets smelled of your perfume and you skin, such a sweet and comforting scent. You sat on the balcony when Hyunjin opened his eyes, looking for your body instantly. You woke up way too early, admiring his sleeping form for a while, wondering how a man this beautiful was lying next to you. You got up then, made some coffee and wanted to stand on the balcony, breathing in the fresh morning air, your heart full as you felt like you were reborn again.

Hyunjin sat up, rubbing at his eyes before he noticed you standing outside. He was pulled in immediately, following your footsteps to his balcony. You turned around when he opened the glass door, both of you smiling at each other.

"Good morning." you said.

"Good morning." Hyunjin's voice was raspy from sleeping.

"There's some coffee in the pot." you said but he came closer to you, lifting your hand with the coffee cup to his lips as he took a sip, making you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully.

His arms wrapped around you in a familiar, comforting embrace. Something inside you swelled, gnawing its way up from your stomach to your throat to the tip of your tongue. You burst at the seams as you turned to look at Hyunjin.

"I love you." you said with a breath of relief, with a flutter of your heart, with everything you had within you. Hyunjin's eyes went wide as he teared up slightly, his lips trembling.

"I love you." he said, smiling brighter than the sun, his confession carrying a promise of forever.

You giggled, eliciting a giggle from him too before the two of you started laughing in relief, in happiness, in excitement.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" you smiled as you looked back at the view of the city and Hyunjin's arms tightened around you.

"Move to Paris with me." Hyunjin said suddenly and you almost choked on air as you turned to look at him.

"W-what?" you chuckled in disbelief, putting your cup aside as your hand trembled.

"Let's buy a little house in Paris, somewhere in the countryside, have a garden. We could have a studio there where you can dance and I can paint. We can live on bread and wine for all I care. I'll teach you French, we'll be happy there. Let's leave this fucking city filled with too many memories and make our own in the city of love."

"Hyunjin, that's - isn't that sudden?" your stomach started doing flips as he looked at you excitedly.

"Life is short, you know that. Let's not waste any second and do whatever we want. What do you say?" he grabbed your face, smiling at you sweetly.

"Fuck it, let's move to Paris." you said and he laughed happily, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, spinning you around until you were both dizzy.

"Je t'aime, mon cœur." Hyunjin held onto you tightly.

"I love you too."

Your feet may have touched the ground physically when Hyunjin put you down, but your soul was still floating, wrapped up in his love.

The fireplace was crackling, casting a warm hue over Hyunjin's smiling face. He poked at the fire absentmindedly as he sat on the soft carpet while you watched him, leaning on the door frame. You still had to get used to the complete change of the scenery; seeing endless fields of green grass out of your window was something completely different than the bustling city view you used to find comfort in.

As if sensing your presence, Hyunjin turned to look at you, his smile deepening, the sweet lovesick look on his face ever-present.

"Had a nice bath?" he asked, putting the fire poker aside.

"Mhm." you slowly made your way to him, and Hyunjin's heart jumped in his throat when his eyes caught site of you bare legs under the silky robe you were wearing.

"I finished washing the dishes." he said, staring at your plushy thighs as you came closer to him.

He looked up at you in awe, his eyes big and pleading as his lips parted. You smirked a little, untying the knot on the robe before you opened it up slowly to reveal a red lacy set you had put on after your bath.

"Oh. Wow." he gulped while you let the robe slowly slide down to the floor. "Y/n." Hyunjin turned to you, kneeling on the rug, his hands coming up to touch your smooth skin and grip at your flesh. His eyes became hazy instantly as he circled his arms around you, gripping at your backside while his lips pressed on your skin. Hyunjin kissed your thighs gently as he kept massaging your ass, his face coming closer to your dripping core. You tangled your hand in his hair, caressing him and patting him as your breathing got deeper.

"My goddess." Hyunjin whispered, lips ghosting on the skin right above your panties.

"Hyunjin." you whispered back, tightening the hold in his hair as he kissed the lace, tracing his lips to your clit. You spread your legs just a little, enough for him to lick at you with his tongue, making you tremble against him while he kissed and licked at your clit, tasting your arousal on his tongue.

A whimper of his name left your lips as he gripped at your hips and pressed his tongue harder against you, hungry to have more of you. Your legs buckled and Hyunjin gently pulled you down into his lap and you sat with your legs wrapped around him, your core pressing into his, making you moan.

"Let me have you, my muse." his hands slid up and down on your thighs. "Give yourself to me." he laid you down on the carpet as the fireplace kept crackling next to you.

"Take me." you whispered and he kissed you hungrily, his hands on your breasts, squeezing and worshipping, desperate and loving, driving you completely insane. He pressed his body against yours, kissing you harder, taking all your breath away from your lungs.

You grabbed at him like he was the only thing keeping you afloat, keeping your head above the deep water.

"Ah, my angel. Mon amour." Hyunjin whined against your skin as he kissed and nipped at your breasts.

"Lover." you breathed out, pulling on his hair a little as he gently played with your clit, the lace getting soaked with your slick as your pussy clenched around nothing.

"Mm." Hyunjin wrapped his lips around your nipple, still covered by the lace as he swiped his tongue over it repeatedly, making you shake against him.

You dug your nails into his arm, your other hand still tangled in your hair as he continued moving his fingers faster and sucking harder, bringing you to the edge as you came in your panties with his name on your lips.

"Oh." you gasped and Hyunjin giggled.

"That was fast." he smirked.

"Shut up." your face became red in embarrassment and Hyunjin looked proud.

"Relax mon cœur, I'm just as desperate for you." he whispered, grabbing your hand and leaving gentle kisses. He kissed your neck, marking you as his as his pretty fingers dipped teasingly between your folds, your wetness seeping through the lace. Hyunjin kept touching you like he was in a trance, lips traveling down to your breasts again and then your stomach until his breath hit your core. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked at them, moaning quietly.

"The sweetest fruit." he smirked before putting his lips on your lower ones, licking at you like he was thirsty for your juice. You jolted as your eyes rolled back, your legs falling open completely and hands by your sides as you dug your fingers into the carpet underneath you.

"H-Hyunjin!" you kept shaking and trembling against him as he licked at you, the lace now completely wet so he pushed it aside, sticking his tongue inside you and making you whimper loudly as you grabbed at his hair. Hyunjin moaned into your pussy, his body shaking too as you drove him crazy with your moans and reactions. He pushed his pants and underwear down, grabbing his throbbing cock and stroking himself as he ate you out while you pushed his head harder into you.

"Ah fuck!" you groaned as you exploded, cumming on his tongue and lips hard and Hyunjin moaned, gripping his cock to stop himself from finishing too early as he lapped up your juices.

"Mm, my love." he leaned back to get rid of his clothes. "I need to feel you around me."

"Please." you whimpered.

"You never have to beg, I'll give you anything you want, ma chérie." Hyunjin pressed his tip against you and you pulled him in closer with your legs. He smirked and grabbed them both, pushing them together and leaning them on his shoulder. You whimpered when his tip breached you, the position making you more tight for him.

"So tight." his eyes rolled back as he pushed in deeper. "You take me so well every time."

"Mm." your arched into him as he filled you up completely, his cock throbbing inside your pussy.

"Fuck me, Hyunjin." you moaned and he gripped at your legs, fucking into you hard. You couldn't help the loud whimpers escaping your lips as his hips pounded into you. His hands left imprints in your thighs as he fucked you and kissed your calf and foot, sucking on your toes shortly and moaning around them. You couldn't hold it in much longer, squirting around his length as he looked at you, his hips stuttering too.

He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in as he spread your legs and laid down on top of you.

"I don't wanna cum yet." Hyunjin caressed your waist, your hands holding the back of his neck as you brought him closer, leaving soft kisses everywhere on his face, his jaw, his lips and his neck. He gasped and moaned quietly, straining his neck as you licked and suckes on his skin, marking him.

"Let's take it slow." he whispered, kissing the spot under your ear.

"Yes, I want to feel you." you moaned and Hyunjin started moving his hips slowly as he looked at you with eyes full of love.

"How glad I am that I walked into the theater that one evening." he smiled, gently massaging your breasts.

"Probably as much as I'm glad I walked into your gallery randomly." you smiled back at him as you played with his hair and touched his cheeks.

"La vie sans toi est inimaginable." he whispered.

"I can't imagine my life without you either." you whispered back and Hyunjin smiled lovingly at you. You don't know how long you indulged in each other, whispering sweet nothings and giving each other soft kisses. The fire died down just a little as you reached your high, both of you moaning "I love you's" in each other's ears.

Getting lost in one another's embrace in the quiet and intimate atmosphere, lying in the precious, blissful happiness was rewarding every time.

"The fire has almost died." you chuckled quietly.

"I'll make sure it always keeps burning." Hyunjin smiled at you and you giggled kissing him silly.

The first snowflakes fell down gently on your cheeks as you and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sparkly christmas lights of the busy Parisian street. People were walking and laughing around you, the world was turning round and round, it was all a blur as the two of you only saw each other, completely infatuated with the moment.

"It's been exactly a year since we drank Alsatian wine in my studio together." Hyunjin said as he turned his body towards yours.

"Really?" you chuckled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of not knowing the exact date but Hyunjin counted every beautiful second spent with you.

"Yes. We should celebrate that." he smiled cutely at you, his eyes turning into slits and his dimples showing.

"I agree." you smiled. "We should visit Alsace too."

"Of course. We can go wherever we want, ma chérie." Hyunjin gently touched your cheek and leaned in to kiss you.

"I love you." you whispered against his lips.

"I love you." Hyunjin giggled, his cheeks becoming rosy. "I know this is like a spur of a moment thing, but it feels right." he added and you looked at him questioningly.

"Spend the rest of your life with me." he smiled, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hwang Hyunjin, are you asking me to marry you?" you giggled, your heart speeding up.

"I am. Will you?" his eyes widened into an innocent puppy look he always gave you when he wanted something and you laughed in delight.

"Of course I will. There's no other way I'd rather live than to grow old with you." you clutched at him and he pulled you into a loving kiss, both of you giggling in happiness as the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkled behind your bodies.

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