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#/ also I'm v sorry for the length
guardiandamned · 9 months
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If the past Ryouga could see himself today, he would've laughed out loud in disbelief - or maybe he'd have been furious. Even now he finds it hard to believe what he's doing- seeking out the person he called his enemy for so long, who he hated to the rotten depths of his heart... and for what? A heart-to-heart?
It's not like he was prepared for it at all - not with the way he is now, uncertain and wavering, raw and desperate for a way out in a way he's never experienced before. But right now, Ryouga is even more thrown than he expected. Because the person standing before Ryouga isn't IV... but III.
Ryouga has never known what to make of him. He'd always been so focused on his older brother that III himself had escaped his attention. He gives off the kind of aura of a harmless kid, easy to dismiss out of hand, and yet... that's nothing more than a carefully crafted deception. Or maybe it's not crafted at all? The idea that his gentle demeanor really is genuine, but that it doesn't make him any less dangerous... it's quite the scary thought, really.
How would III react if he found out what Ryouga really is? It's been a mere day or so since Ryouga found out himself, even if he'd been suspecting it for longer than that. But the Barians, after all, are the enemy of III's family, the one's who'd used them and caused him so much pain - a pain that Ryouga is bitterly familiar with in a way that now feels all too horribly ironic. He doesn't know what to do. What is he supposed to say? Why is Ryouga- no, Nasch, leader and Emperor of the Barians, frozen in place here like nothing more than a child?
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"...I wasn't expecting you here." He recovers quickly, his usual scowl settling over his features once again - but on the inside, he feels sick. "I guess IV's hiding away, then? ...What a coward, as always."
@tophatz ( starter for iii! )
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lovelornings · 1 month
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@theircurse said: " Just say it. I should have listened to you from the beginning. " ( Yumi )
* A FABLE OF GODS: ARIA OF THE ACCURSED (NOVEL) PART ONE.
❥- She should have known better. She should have know better
The thought kept repeating itself over and over again in her mind like a broken record. Damning herself, cursing her own stupidity for having let a lesson she learned long ago not stop her.
She shouldn't be talking to anyone without mother's instructions. She couldn't have friends outside of what Ai approved of, and even then, only interact in the way her mother saw fit. At school, she may have had a bit more liberty with that - but not at home. Not even in her own front yard.
Kitahachi's death should have taught her that. Served as a constant reminder of what she'd told Yumeno yesterday:
I don't think we should be friends. It'll be dangerous if mother finds out.
They'd seen her idly messing about with a bag of marbles on the driveway in passing, Yumi attempting to pass the time as she waited for Ai to come home later that day. Even if she'd rather be studying, Father didn't want her in the house. He liked to put distance between them any chance he could get.
They'd just wanted to play with her. Although Yumi hesitated at first, she'd been convinced by idea of only playing one round of bullseye. Told herself it'd be over quickly, since she more than likely held an unfair advantage with the amount of hours she'd be at it already. They shouldn't be in any danger of mother coming home and catching them.
But something expected had happened: she'd started having fun. The presence of another person had her smiling genuinely for the first time in what felt like years, and she'd fallen into the endless cycle of 'one more time!' more times than she could count: as if time would somehow stand still forever.But of course, it didn't. She lost track of it completely.
Mother had seen them. Although she barely commented on it as they arrived at the house, Yumi knew there was going to be hell to pay for the both of them.
Her punishment had started yesterday. Ai might have shown her mercy before by only giving her a slice across her face, but she wasn't happy about having to teach this lesson a second time.
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"No, no - it's my fault. I should have insisted." Her arm still stings, the wound running down the length of its entire side. She'd had to stich the cut up herself, just like last time. "I'm...I'm so sorry. I was being selfish. I wanted to play with you too."
Chances are, she was about to go through so much worse tomorrow when mother found out she'd forced herself into the basement. But she didn't care about that right now. Her fear of Ai couldn't override her guilt, nor her desperation to see them again.
"...Did she electrocute you too?"
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gonnachasethestars · 5 months
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I miss you! I miss you! I miss you! Trust that your heart will always guide you true Soar up as high as @spectacular-solarflare's dreams can fly!
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"No, no..."
The tanuki was walking in the rain. He held a clear umbrella along with wearing an insulated rain coat. His eyes were closed, not the best idea, but his mind was all jumbled up. It meant he didn't see a thing in front of him. Shoes press softly on the sidewalk, a gentle splashing sound each time.
Thoughts were on how to design a lens that could do everything. Take a well defined picture of the sun, while simultaneously being waterproof.
B O N K !
Should have been paying attention. Kounosuke walked nose first into a crossing light. A sharp cry of pain was emitted, as he held his nose for a moment. Rubbing it a few times, the tanuki came to the realization that he wasn't the only one here. How embarrassing.
"Sorry you had to see that."
Shaking his head, mostly in an attempt to get the dull ache to go away, he smiled.
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"Well, anyway. What brings you out on a day like this?"
Being the friendly man he was, there was genuine curiosity in his voice. Strangers were just friends you hadn't met yet, right? She may not have looked like what society considered normal, but who cared? Goodness knew Kounosuke had been judged when he was younger, generally for his size.
That was the past. He was fully comfortable in who he was now, round, soft body included.
"You'd better be careful not to catch a cold! My name's Kounosuke."
He struck a pose straight out of an anime.
"I'm a photographer from the stars! Hehe."
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balladetto · 9 months
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reasons to cup a face / always accepting / @gloryseized ( Shion )
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GROUND, during a moment of intense emotional stress, the sender gently takes the receiver's face in their hands to ground them until they're calmer again.
     It happens in snapshot moments.
     As he registers the feel of a palm between his fingers, somehow heaving against him without toppling him over, Kane opens his eyes. He blinks — blinks again, and the inside of the Temple of Time comes into focus: a muted colour to the light that pours in through its stained glass windows as if the very air has mildewed. There's a silence here that unnerves him. He realises, at once, three things.
     Kane is in a body he does not recognise but knows, deep down, is his.
     He is holding onto someone he does not recognise but knows, deeper down, is his brother.
     This is a Dream. Which is different from a dream, 'cause this is the type — the only type — he can still vividly recall after waking, like echoes bleeding into reality. He's been getting these recently.
     Almost as though he's been waiting for these things to connect, the likeness of Shion wrests his hand from Kane's. He steps away. He's— so tall like this, figure looming, shadows on his face that can't be cut through, but so is Kane; so is the form he's been warped into, and they are two brothers divided by a space that shouldn't be making his breath quicken so hard.
     "I promise," Shion's image signs, a bold declaration with bold movements, and Kane — for the same reason he knows without recognising — wants to scream at him. What are you promising? Do you have any idea? You can't promise me something like that. You can't promise me something you've already broken!
     Don't leave me!
     The quiet stretches. He can't move. He's stuck in a moment he doesn't know how to break out of, hand vainly outstretched and wide eyes pinned on a face he can't see. His skin feels one touch removed from splitting apart the way his heart feels one nudge off from falling over the precipice of some knife's edge, yet he aches anyway, willing to be ripped open if it means his brother will be there.
     His brother will not be there.
     Kane watches in helpless horror as Shion turns, boots tapping out a decisive farewell march. He's distantly aware of the little light following after him — Navi, it takes a second to place, blue and a perfect fit and so out of place at the same time. They're going ahead without him, approaching the pedestal made for the sword on Shion's back, and Kane is struck with such a sudden desperation that his body, frozen as it is, trembles. Convulses.
     Stop, he can't cry. Don't leave me, he can't plead. It's only when his brother raises the Master Sword high, about to return it to its resting place, that the stone Kane's trapped in releases him. He stumbles forward — forces himself to keep stumbling forward, throat strained raw as he calls for his brother, but he can tell— he's too late. He's too late. The Dream stills, suspended on knowledge he can't look away from—
     Kane wakes up to arms binding his hands to his sternum and a hot face pressed into the back of his neck.
     For a second, the change thoroughly dazes him. He blinks, capturing nothing, and in its span: the world rearranges itself. Pain flares from his chest, throbbing in time with the harsh, too-fast breaths strangling him. The night is lit by firelight, casting a dim glow over cave walls and along the things in a campsite for two travellers. With how sticky his nose and cheeks and eyes feel, he thinks he's probably been crying. His brother is here.
     His brother is here.
     "Shh-ii—" he starts, and finds he won't complete the name.
     Shion jerks against his side, inhaling so sharply it sounds like it'd hurt before hurriedly pulling away from where he's curled around Kane. The motion has him nauseous with a fear carried over, snatching at a forearm the right size with hands the right size, but his brother isn't— isn't going away. He moves until they're facing each other, gaze searching for Kane's. This up close, he can trace every contour. He can delineate every crease, put an emotion to every feature — helped by a nearby fairy's shine. Yellow. Tatl.
     He— lets go. "Shion," he shakily, unnecessarily, forms with his hands. It's too cramped for brother to be signed well, so he repeats it again, and again, and again. The shape falls apart further each time, until it's little more than his left hand knocking atop his right.
     Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. If he could carve this into his skin so Shion can see and understand it when his voice and fingers are as useless as they are now, he would. And maybe some part of him really tried, maybe that's what the twinges running along the lengths of his arms are, but— his brother has never needed Kane's words to know what to do.
     Shion holds him gently. Carefully, palm and fingertips assured in their own tenderness. He presses a different message into the skin of his cheeks, the answer to all that goes unsaid but not unrealised.
     Don't leave me, Kane begs with a bitten lip, heaving shoulders, and a weird, awful certainty that he'll be ignored.
     I'm here, Shion swears with circling thumbs, eyes that reflect his twin's pain, and a steady, near irremovable warmth.
     Kane's voice trips over an ugly sob. He pushes his hands over his brother's, drinking in the touch with an overwrought exhaustion, and tries to match his breathing to the slow cadence of that terribly profuse love.
     ( What a strange Dream, he will later think as they drift back to sleep. A strange fear, he will correct, squeezing-hand-in-squeezing-hand. Shion would never leave him. )
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faebhaal · 7 months
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@dracourge ☆ S.C.
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In grass surrounded by a ring of fungi lies a skeleton, completely cleaned and bleached from the sun. A myriad of flowers bloom amidst the bones; twisting, turning and peeking up. Including nightshade. How far down do the worms hide? It's beautiful really. An enchanting sight that invokes a feeling of mirth mixed with sorrow.
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But she's not so far gone in a dreamy daze for his appearance to go unnoticed. There's a snap of a twig at the same time a toad hurriedly hops out from the ribcage.
"Careful where you step. Don't want to get spirited away, yeah?" It's a joke...mostly. It's highly unlikely that a doorway would be in a place like this. Ithaca looks up and up and up at the dragonborn. Blood on snow, is the image he evokes. The mere thought of blood starts a snowball effect of carnage filled thoughts that she has to quickly bury back down. Normal conversation --- stick with normalcy.
"Did Gale finally get dinner started? Or is he still trying to mediate between Lae'zel and Shadowheart?" There's an awkward little laugh coupled with a lopsided smile. But her fingers --- oh how they twitch; they twitch and itch. "Didn't mean to wander off just...needed to think."
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giantsreach · 1 year
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hm.
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revengesworn · 1 year
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Mikey can feel himself shaking.
He hates it. This weakness - this fear and the heart-pounding terror that, at times like these,  always emerges from so deep in his core that it feels like it defines him. He’s supposed to be strong. How can he be a leader when he can’t carry the people he loves through their pain and beyond? He can barely even manage to stand on his own two feet, let alone protect the people he cares about.
He’s always been weak, and he’s always hated the weak. The weak can’t do a thing. If they just tried a little harder, fought a little more, then they’d be able to protect themselves and the people they love... but they don’t even try. The weak make excuses, and bring nothing but misery to those around them, and there’s no-one out there weaker than Mikey.
He can lie, and deny it to himself, but... at times like these, he knows the truth.
But that doesn’t mean he’ll accept it. No matter how much it hurts, he’ll stop his body from shaking and put a smile on his face as if nothing is wrong... because Baji deserves it, after all - he’s the one who really suffered here.
As he enters the hospital room, Mikey feels his heart come to a stop. It’s just for a moment, as he sets eyes on Baji - who’s alive, he’s not dead; oh god he could’ve died too - but a barely-strained smile forms on his face regardless. He’s scared, because he doesn’t know if Baji will be happy to see him. But..
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“Baji. ...You really scared everyone, you know.”
@prxenuntius​ ( starter for baji! )
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@earthssprout wanted a starter in Silver's present <3
What was a child doing here?
He wasn't sure where she'd come from, but he knew nobody belonged this far into the city. Not even himself, though he was looking for supplies. They had a tendency to come more easily in the city, as others weren't as likely to swipe them all up. Upon spotting someone so young, protective instincts immediately kicked in. The hedgehog dropped the spare bandages in his arms and ran as fast as he could towards her.
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"Are you okay?"
She was slightly shorter than Silver. Humans were usually much taller. He held out a hand. Gosh, was he worried. Children belonged in a settlement, safe inside a dwelling where the monsters that roamed couldn't get to them as easily. Glancing around, the hedgehog considered using his psychokinesis to create a shield of objects.
Just so no monsters spotted them.
"You're not safe here. If you'll let me, I'll take you somewhere the monsters can't hurt either of us." For the sake of her safety, he offered a smile. "My name is Silver. Will you tell me your name?"
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fogsnatched · 26 days
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When Renato and Thalita came into the fog for the first time, they immediately stood out from the rest - at least, they did to Yoichi. So many of the new arrivals before them had been touched in some way by the supernatural; by strange forces out of their control... whether they'd understood them or feared them and fell victim depended on the person, but the Lyra siblings seemed - at least at first glance - so ordinary in comparison.
A pair of total strangers to the occult, dragged here into hell by pure chance and a cruel twist of fate. They were the first pair of siblings here, too, at least as far as Yoichi is aware. Elodie and Felix may have been acquainted with each other in the past, but for two to come together who's lives were so clearly intertwined... it struck him as unusual, but not in a way that he could easily hope to understand. The motivations of the Entity have always been far beyond his reach.
But he is curious. And while he hopes that their experience might bring him another clue to understanding it all - the Entity, the trials, and the curse that ruined his life... he knows it's unfair to demand answers they likely don't have, and frankly, nor does he want to. Still... when faced with Renato now, Yoichi can't let but feel that familiar curiosity stirring at the back of his mind.
"If there's anything I can do... let me know." As Yoichi finishes speaking, he hopes the depths of his gratitude are clear. After all, Renato saved his life in the last trial, and not without significant cost to himself. Keeping track of debts and who owes who is meaningless in a place like this, and one day the "thank you's" may end up feeling empty, too, but Yoichi thinks it's important that he doesn't stop, nonetheless.
"And I hope I'm not overstepping... but it seemed like there was something you wanted to say to me, too." Back then, during the trial. Was it just Yoichi's imagination? "I'm happy to hear you out, if you'd like."
@deadlykitefight ( starter! )
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toorusluvr · 2 months
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... 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
characters: sylus (love and deepspace) x f!reader
content warnings: vaginal penetration sex + p in v + cowgirl position + mirror sex + sylus being cocky and sarcastic + kneeling sex + missionary sex + unprotected sex + not proofread lol i'm sorry this was written on a whim
notes from nis: my first ever sylus smut lol he has been on my mind ever since the first day he was announced! he has no business being this hot! anyway, if you're also a haikyuu fan pls check out my series featuring iwaizumi hajime ehe. as usual, your likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! <333 listen to around me - metro boomin ft. don toliver while reading! (only bcs i listened to it on repeat while writing this it's my new fav song atm!!)
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sylus who got really interested and was in awe the entire time you were riding him. sylus sees himself as someone who would rather take the initiative in everything that he does, especially sex. after all, he always carries this dominating aura to wherever he goes. but he's not dumb enough to turn down his sweet little girlfriend's intriguing offer to be on top. you wanna show him? go ahead, sweetie. he's your audience and he wants you to entertain him. stun him, make him praise you.
what got sylus going was how enthusiastic you looked when you were on top of him, riding him to the extent your legs were sore enough to walk the moment after. sylus's cock was big and thick. it was no picnic to be on top, taking all of him while trying to work on your hips back and forth, grinding on his cock. you whimpered and moaned endlessly. from grinding to bouncing on his cock but he never once interrupted your hard work.
"mm, sylus, please. need you," you whined, hips stuttering to continue fucking yourself dumb on his cock. it's been almost half an hour but your orgasm was so close yet so far. sylus knew you were starting to get desperate to come, to chase that high you were desperate for. but, he needed you to last longer so you know he won't be giving in to you easily.
sylus's laugh was deep and warm, like the gentle roll of thunder. his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook as his chuckles filled the room. "sweetie, you know the drills when you got on top of me. why don't you be a good girl and finish what you started, hm?" his hand then smacked your bottom as a sign of disapproval. seemed like sylus wasn't too happy when you were whining to him.
you threw your head back, groaning in frustration. this man wouldn't let you give up easily. said that you must persevere no matter what the occasions are. you must rise and be the strongest. but not like this! not when you were vulnerable, aching and desperate for him to take control.
both your hands were now planted on his sculpted chest. his chest glistened with sweat, a bit slippery for you to hold. you then moved closer, your tits pressed against his chest. your arms circled around his broad shoulders. sylus shifted uncomfortably beneath you as he felt your hardened nipples brushed against his sensitive chest. fuck.
again, you rocked your hips, slowly grinding on his cock filling you up so good. all warm and thick inside of you. there was a large full-length mirror next to his bed. from ceiling to floor kind of mirror. he installed it long time ago but you never knew what purpose does it serve. maybe now it finally clicked in your mind.
you've always enjoyed seeing yourself in the mirror or any other reflective surface. maybe this moment needed you to focus on yourself instead of the man underneath you. slowly, you got up. your attention was no longer on sylus but the mirror next to the bed. sylus then shifted his gaze towards the mirror too. now, both of you were staring into each other's eyes through the reflection.
your naked bodies exposed, displaying your most intimate time together. slowly, you rocked your hips, trying to find your rhythm. the tip of his cock nudging your sensitive spot with each thrust. your soft yet heavy pants coming from you filled sylus's room. the man didn't even bat an eye at your noises. his hands then moved to your waist, keeping your hips steady.
since sylus won't take control, you decided to take the matter into your own hands. you know too well he'd end up a whining mess if you started bouncing on his cock. since he was too smug to help you, you planted both your hands on his lower abdomen. your hips moved sensually, grinding on him slowly before you got on your knees and moved up and down his cock. sylus let out a staggered breath once he felt your cunt clenched tightly around his aroused cock.
his larger hands had a firm grip on your waist. he didn't even have to guide your hips now that you did it all by yourself. you alternate between grinding and bouncing up and down his cock. sylus let out soft grunts when your hips started moving faster, just fucking yourself with his cock. what pissed him off was that your attention wasn't even on him but the stupid mirror.
you looked at your drop dead gorgeous reflection in the mirror, bouncing up and down his cock. your tits jiggled with each bounce. you whimpered pathetically at the way his cock nudged your most sensitive spot. "fuck me," you muttered under your breath.
sylus's eyebrows knitted as he grumbled, "you're already doing that, sweetie. using my cock like a sex toy, huh?"
still, you weren't looking at him. he got frustrated so he flipped both of you over. he had the upper hand and he used it to his advantage. he couldn't stand not looking at you in the eyes. to not have your attention on him is fatal to him. sylus needs those beautiful pair of eyes to be on him at all times.
you squealed the moment he used his force to flip you guys over. your back pressed against his bed, his height towered over you. "what's so interesting about that mirror, hm? i need your eyes on me, kitten," he spoke in between sharp intakes of breath, each exhalation coming out raggedly.
sylus's thrust was merciless. he kept fucking you like tomorrow doesn't exist. his patience runs thin when he's inside you. he loves taking his time with you but now, he just wants to make you a crying mess. you stumbled upon your words, unable to speak when your cunt being stretched by his thick cock.
you clawed against his back. several faint scratches decorating his muscular back. "fuck, sylus! give me more, please!"
sylus then cupped your chin when you had your eyes shut. he tightened the hold on your cheeks, "open your eyes, sweetie. i need your eyes on me or else i'll leave you high and dry. eyes on me, sweetie. it's now or never." sylus's voice was a dark, smooth blend of sensuality and power, each words punctuated with a commanding edge. typical sylus.
feeling so dazed in your lust, you slowly opened your eyes. his handsome face came into your sight. hair all messy and some strands were sticking to his forehead that was glistened with sweats. he smirked, crimson eyes looking down at you. his gaze filled with hidden desires.
sylus once again flipped both of you over. this time, he got you on all fours, positioning you in front of the mirror. you gasped loudly when he didn't give you any break from his punishing thrusts. at this point, your cunt could remember his cock so damn well. you tried hanging your head low, shying away from the intense gaze sylus was giving you. but he tugged on your hair, making you squeal.
it's like he had you on a leash with the way he tugged on your hair. not until he pressed your back against his front. now both of you were skin to skin again. sylus's ragged breaths felt warm, tingling your ear. you gulped hard. the heat radiating from sylus's body engulfed your skin. sweats started to run along your back. both of you were sweaty and satiated but no one had their first orgasm yet.
"fuck, look at you, sweetie. looking grumpy just because you cannot make yourself come, hm?" sylus's words taunted you. a smirk tugged in the corner of his lips seeing your frustrated expression. yeah, he hit a nail with that one. "my cock is not good enough for you, sweetie?"
you wanted to tell him to shut his mouth but that would be fatal. nah, he won't kill you. he loves you too much. still. you don't dare to go that route yet. "please, sy. i'm tired," you tried bargaining. a negotiation with the devil? yeah, best of luck to that.
sylus scoffed. his jaw ticked at your pitiful plea. "no, not yet, sweetie," he groaned, head thrown back. sylus stifled the rising impulses to come inside you, but he pushed them down with deliberate effort to maintain control over his cold reactions. "ah, fuck," he cursed under his breath.
he fucked you hard and fast, to the point you got overstimulated and tears started streaming down your face. sylus made you watch you cried your eyes out while being pounded relentlessly. your tits jiggled with each punishing thrust. it was sinful, really. but the devil has seen worse. this was blissful. a piece of heaven he could get.
"ah, sylus!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. sylus's hand reached down to cup your pussy, thumb ghosted over your clit. he let his touch lingered there for a while. eventually, he started to draw circles on your puffy clit, waiting for your orgasm to break loose. your breaths came in erratic bursts, each one uneven and sharp as if you were struggling to catch up.
sylus felt the way your pussy clenched around his cock so tightly, it might never want to leave. it was pushing him to his limits too. fuck fuck fuck. he couldn't do this dance any longer. he pushed your body down to the bed, pressing on your back as you arched your back for him. his cock pounded your pussy harder that each breath that came out of you felt hard. you cried with each breath until your orgasm finally broke, releasing the high and endorphins all over the system.
"fuck," you sobbed as you gathered your breath slowly. sylus fucks like a mad man. but he was yet to come so he used you, he used your pussy until his come, hot and thick, filling your womb to the brim. though a wave of dizziness threatened to overtake him, sylus steadied himself and pushed through, determined to check on his girlfriend.
"fuck, sweetie. you were..." he ran out of words. but sylus managed to pick where he left off, "you were so good for me."
you let out a breathless chuckle, "you must persevere, yeah sure i did, babe."
sylus's chuckle was a deep, gravelly rumble, each note rasping out with a rich, textured quality. "mhm, using my words against me, sweetie? have i underestimated your determination or overestimated your intellect?"
he then laid you down on his bed, limbs tangled with each other. both of you tried to gather your consciousness and breath together. "love to see you get all worked up, sweetie," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. "like a feisty kitten." you then hit him on the chest. what a way to ruin your post-orgasmic bliss. sylus must be tone deaf since he cannot read the room at all. but he's a damn good guy when he wants to be and you happen to love both his good and bad sides. that's what makes him even more special.
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divider creds to cafekitsune <3
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rinhaler · 11 months
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🥲👉🏾👈🏾I was gonna say could do Stepdadcest with Gojo ft your stepbrothers Sukuna and Yuji? Like you usually do "things" with Gojo but your stepbrothers are becoming really jealous cause they want some of you too. So it's like you're getting passed around-
(This is so embarrassing for me because I'm not usually into this type of thing but it's hot)
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hi bb im sorry this took so long! ive been having a tough time irl and i found this req very challenging but i hope it's okay for you! thanks for sending it it was so yummy! (also pls never be embarrassed here it's v hot and i welcome it and you)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, running a train, multiple creampies, belly bulge, daddy!kink, fingering/rubbing, tit sucking, blood mention, slight degradation, praise, spanking, male masturbation.
words: 1.5k
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“Sukuna!” you yell, doing all you can to wriggle away from him. But it’s hopeless. His cock splits you open as he effortlessly raises you up and down the length again and again until your brain turns to mush.
“You’re being too rough with her, dude.” Yuuji sighs, fingers rubbing your puffy clit as you’re bounced on your oldest brother’s length. “Am I right? Is it too much for you?” Yuuji asks, holding your chin carefully so that you can look at him.
You nod, biting your lip as you do your best to balance your body while Sukuna fucks up into you. He snarls, fucking harder when he notices your hips trying to meet his thrusts.
“S’that why you’re trying to get off on my cock? Hm? Look at you, getting off on your big brother like a little whore.” Sukuna teases, his fingers digging into your sides, nails piercing the skin hard enough to draw blood. “S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.”
Your face flushes with heat as you hear his lewd language, your eyes scrunching closed to shut out the humiliating situation you found yourself in. Yuuji looks up at you innocently, monitoring your facial expressions as he carries on teasing your clit. His face moves up your body, latching his lips around your tit and suckling without letting up on the sensitive bead between your folds.
“What’s going on in here?” you hear the all too familiar lilt of your stepfather’s voice as he enters the room. You gasp, humiliated that he’s caught the three of you in this predicament. You want to scream, hide, run away. Anything to leave your stepdad’s line of vision as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
Your brother’s barely register his presence. Sukuna’s thrusting shows no intention of slowing while Yuuji tries to pull you away from him.
“That’s enough, it’s my turn.” he tells him, pulling you away from his older sibling and pushing you down into the mattress. Your shoulder blades are flat against the bed as you stare up at him caging you in. “Don’t wanna hurt you… but I can’t wait.” he warns you, sliding his tip up and down your slippery flesh before pushing into you.
“Fuck.” you exhale, wet eyes blinking up at Yuuji as he starts to rock his hips.
“Stop it.” Satoru huffs, approaching you all coolly before cupping your face. “She’s only used to daddy…” beaming blue eyes bore down into your own as he monitors your facial expressions while Yuuji continues using you as his own little toy.
“’m s-sorry daddy—”
“Ah… enough of that. You made your choice. So let your brother’s finish what they started. Go on, Yuuji. Fill her up.” your stepfather commands, even going as far as to press his hand on Yuuji’s lower back and helping him grind into you.
It was no surprise to Gojo that Yuuji met his end quicker than he’d hoped. He knew he wasn’t a virgin but by no means experienced. And your step father is all too familiar with how your tight, petite cunt could bring a porn star to an instant ruin. Your little hole is akin to a siren luring sailors to their deaths after the promise of love for a lifetime, your warm heat is too much for Yuuji to withstand for too long.
And Sukuna teases him, embarrassing him as he grunts loudly and stuffs you full of cum. He doesn’t stop, though, his softening cock still humping into you again and again, overstimulating himself until he’s shuddering and close to tears. You mewl, cutely, as he kisses along your jaw and whispers sweet nothings against your neck.
“Say thank you to your brother.” your step father commands, smoothing your hair down whilst his eyes pierce your soul. You aren’t sure if you are thankful or if his demanding stare pulled the response from you, but you find yourself nodding and thanking your brother sweetly, kissing his lips as he slowly withdraws himself from you. “Now, Sukuna, how do you want her?”
Your eldest brother growls with a sinister smile. He doesn’t even bother to answer, flipping your exhausted body so that your ass is in the air and your face is in your pillows.
He slams his hips against you in one fell swoop, bottoming out in your gummy walls with no remorse. You aren’t sure he’ll last so long, either, considering he’d been fucking you for some time before Yuuji took over. But it hurts. God, it hurts. He’s a little bigger and slightly thicker than his younger brother, his tip relentlessly rams into your g-spot until your vision goes white.
“Stay with us, sweetheart. Stay with daddy.” Satoru whispers, pushing your tousled hair out of your face as he commands your focus again. You can barely look at him, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your big brother fucks you so ruthlessly yet perfectly. “You’re doing good, kid. You’re gonna cum for us, yeah?” he smiles and you begin to moan.
Yuuji can’t help but play with himself as he hears your pretty moans. While Sukuna digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, spanking you as he tries to fuck himself into you at the deepest possible angle.
“F-Fuck, fuck—!” Sukuna pants, spilling a copious amount of cum inside of you alongside your other brothers. You were getting so full, and you feel so warm. But you know you’re not done. You still haven’t came and there’s only one man left.
“See, boys, this is why I don’t share.” Satoru speaks as he scoops you into his arms. You do your best to keep your brothers loads inside while your daddy pulls out his cock, it’s hard to do so when a simple tilt of his head tells you that he wants you to straddle him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, daddy’ll take care of you…” he assures you. He spits on his hand, stroking his cock a few times before lining it up with your hole. You bite your lip as you lower yourself down.
“You look so pretty…” Yuuji smiles at you, his thumb rubbing your cheek briefly before withdrawing to watch how your dad stretches out your tight little cunt.
His hips rise and fall, the base of his cock and the fluffy white pubes stimulating your sticky clit again and again as your generous daddy does all of the work. The creamy ring forming is almost enough to make him blow his load in an instant. He can see how spent you are despite not cumming. How weary your body is after dealing with your clueless brothers for so long. But he’s here now, and he’ll always know how to best take care of you.
Yuuji and Sukuna can’t help but admire the way your tits bounce with each and every thrust you endure. They can see a stark difference in your pleasure, being with the most trusted man in your life who knows every ridge of your tight walls. They admire the way you moan so beautifully and unashamedly for your daddy. Whatever energy you lacked comes racing back to you as you ride him in search of your orgasm.
Satoru’s fingers dig into your hips, raising you up and down his length with an anticipating fervour, expecting you to crumble at any moment.
And you do.
You both do and you are practically screaming in a newly discovered pitch as your cunt clenches around your daddy. Sukuna spanks you, his palm stinging your flesh each time an expletive spills out of you. Words you have no hope of controlling or recalling as you lose your mind and body to your daddy.
And he fills you perfectly.
Ropes and ropes of cum filling your womb to the point there is a visible bulge. And he smirks. Still managing to rut into you as he moves you onto your back once again to show Yuuji and Sukuna your swollen tummy. He pulls out, carefully, a little spilling from you before pushing your legs up into your chest.
“Watch…” he looks at your brothers before all of their eyes focus in on your puffy pussy. His fingers splay across your stomach before slowly pressing down. He gasps, slightly, and your brothers eyes widen and fill with lust as all three of them watch the considerable amount of cum seeps out of your cute little hole like a leaking donut. “Oh, princess, you’re so gorgeous.” Satoru compliments you. You’d hide your face in embarrassment if you weren’t so tired.
“Adorable. She’s like our own personal cum dump.” Sukuna speaks, trying not to laugh but unable to hide the teasing smirk on his face.
All you can do is look at them. Feel them, inside and out. The feeling of their cum dripping out of you will be a memory that stays with you forever. And seeing their eyes raking all over you makes you feel so special. Of all of the girls in the world. All of the beautiful, perfect, experienced girls in the whole wide world, all three of them chose you.
Your daddy chose his daughter.
And your brother’s chose their sister.
All three of them couldn’t help but want to fuck you.
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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leeknow-thoughts · 3 months
Note
Bangchan x Leeknow x reader threesome ( only if your comfortable)
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୨୧ 2 MAN
𝝑𝝔 cw : 3way, mxm action, mommy!Minho, daddy!chan, oral, jealous!minchan (YUMMYYYY), stoner!minchan bc I can, stoned 3way!!!, porn no plot, oral (min rec), spanking, petnames, p in v, praise, degrading???
𝝑𝝔 a/n : yum yum yum I lurvvvvvv minchan they're so afjkadhsja hope you like :3 also ofc I'm comfortable writing threesums!!! I think they're so hot !! :3
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Your head was reeling, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your two insanely stunning boyfriends next to you, both equally as stoned as you, and both equally as horny as you.
Some tune is playing on the TV but you can't care much when Chan's hand is sliding under your shorts and rubbing your cunt over your panties. "Chan," you whine, as you look back at the man.
"Tch," Minho slaps your face, not hard enough to actually hurt you, but hard enough to have your pussy gushing, "you know what to call him," he seethes.
"D-Daddy!" you whine looking back at the man who is currently kissing down your spine, "daddy, sorry!" you apologize for your mistake.
"That's a good girl," Chris praises, kissing below your neck.
Minho is passing the joint back to you, looking at you expectingly, you cautiously take it and take a few drags before passing it to Chris. Chris' spare hand holds the joint and his other continues rubbing your cunt over your panties for the time being.
"C'mere," Minho slurs, "want you to suck mommy's cock."
You know Minho is high when he starts referring to himself in the third person. You bend over, resituating yourself on the couch before pulling down Minho's grey sweatpants. revealing his semi-hard cock.
You kiss the tip of his cock, and slowly take his length into your mouth. Taking it so far into your mouth you can feel it touching the back of your throat, but you can't mind much. "Want you to take this punishment like a good girl, just keep sucking my cock while your daddy spanks you," Minho instructs, "tap my thigh three times if it becomes too much, kitty."
Minho's hand runs through your hair gently, and that's when you feel Chan pulling your leggings and panties down, you hear the fabrics hit the floor somewhere in the living room but you can't seem to care where they land.
You watch Chris pass the joint to Minho, Minho dutifully taking more drags from it.
You feel Chan's fingers entering your cunt, his thumb paying special attention to your swollen clit before a harsh slap resonates around the room. You feel the pain of it seconds afterwards. You moan around Minho's cock, making him throw his head back and his eyes cross.
"One," Minho counts for you, given that your mouth is a little preoccupied.
"You know why you're getting this punishment?" Chan inquires, his fingers rubbing your clit as his spare hand strikes your ass again.
"Two," Minho coos, watching the tears stream down your face as your head bobs up and down on his now fully erect cock.
When you don't answer, Chan slaps your ass again, harder this time, "I want a fucking answer," he punctuates with another hard spank to your ass.
You spit Minho's cock out to answer the man, "because I was flirting with another guy!" you sob before Minho is grabbing your hair and pulling your mouth back onto his cock.
"Atta girl," Chan coos, gently rubbing over your swollen, cherry red ass.
Chan's words don't match the way he strikes your ass again, so hard it stings, "five," Minho counts through heavy breaths as he watches you suck his cock more and more.
"Have you learned your lesson?" Chris asks you.
You do your best to nod with the way Minho is forcing you to swallow his cock over and over again. "Good girl," Chan muses, "since you took your punishment so good I think you should ride your mommy's cock as a reward, don't you think that's a good idea, mommy?" Chan looks to Minho.
"That's a lovely idea, daddy," Minho hums.
You wince when Chan's fingers leave you before he is tapping your ass, signalling for you to get up. You slowly lift your mouth off Minho's cock, wobbly legs struggling to move to straddle your mommy.
Minho is shoving his fat cock into you before you have time to gather your thoughts. "There you go, big stretch, kitty cat," Minho groans when his cock slides into your tight entrance
"Be a good kitty, ride my cock," Minho requests.
Your legs barely have any energy left but you do your best, bouncing up and down on your mommy's cock. "That's it kitty," Minho praises in that condescending voice that always makes you go a little loopy in the head.
You watch as Chris grabs Minho's face and pulls him in for a passionate, almost dirty, kiss. "Oh, Minho," you hear Chan tut, "losing yourself so soon? That's not like you."
"Oh, shut up, just wait until you get inside her," Minho whispers against Chan's pretty lips, punctuating his words with a bite to the other man's bottom lip.
All while Minho's cock is hitting that spongey pot inside your pussy, the one that has you going cross-eyed. You already know you're creaming on his cock without having to look down.
With a particular thrust into your cunt, you're cumming around Minho's cock. Lightly hitting his chest, trying to stabilize yourself as you grind yourself on his cock, riding out your high.
"That's it kitty," Minho mumbles watching your disheveled state.
Minho's hands fall to your waist and hold you still as he keeps fucking up into your cunt, chasing his own high now. Your eyes snap open when you feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.
"Mommy!" You wail, looking between the two men, "Daddy!" you practically scream.
"That's it kitty," Minho grunts as high hips speed up their brutal pace.
That's when you finally look down and notice Chan's cock, his tip a flushed pink color, pre dribbling from the tip, a sight so heavenly you feel yourself gushing at the sight.
After a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt you can feel Minho's cum filling you up, now he's slowly thrusting into you, riding out his high.
You watch as Chan grabs Minho's head and brings Minho's mouth to wrap around his cock.
You watch the filthy scene in front of you unfold, Chan nutting down Minho's throat with a high pitched whine, before Minho turns to you, pulling you in for a lustful kiss, shoving Chan's cum into your mouth as well.
And you sit like that, full of Minho's cock, passing Chan's cum back and forth until Chan decides he would like another round.
648 notes · View notes
iholdwhatican · 4 months
Text
tension
part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.2k
author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party
warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!
summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?
originally posted by iholdwhatican
It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 
Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 
Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 
Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick
“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 
For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 
You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 
“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 
“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 
You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 
A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 
“What happened out there?” 
The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 
“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 
But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 
A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 
He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 
You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 
That expression was clear, resolute competition. 
Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 
You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 
“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 
“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 
“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 
Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 
Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 
You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 
“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 
“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 
“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 
“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 
You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 
When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 
“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 
And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 
Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 
“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 
“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 
Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 
It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.
Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 
“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 
You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 
“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 
You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 
“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 
You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 
Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 
“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 
Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 
“You care about me?” 
Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 
“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 
“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 
“I wanna help.” 
He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 
The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 
“How much do you need?” 
“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 
Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 
“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 
He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 
You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 
“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 
You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 
“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 
Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 
“Then tell me what you need.” 
“What do you think I need?” 
Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.
Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 
The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 
“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 
His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 
“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 
“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 
A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.
“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 
You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 
“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.
“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 
“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 
Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 
The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 
Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.
You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 
Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 
He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 
You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 
Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 
You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 
Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 
“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 
Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 
“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 
The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.
As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 
And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 
Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?
***
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kikixreverie · 1 year
Text
It's called: freefall
Bucky x Female reader
Summary - Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.
Word count - 10k
Warnings - (18+) smut, fingering, p in v, friends to lovers, fake marriage, gross misogynistic man (not Bucko), borderline sexual harassment (not too intense, just gross words, and also not Bucky ofc), fluff, kinda angst, more misogyny.
A/N - Hi, this took me weeks to edit for some reason, sorry, and apologies if it's too long/wordy, i got carried away again. I'm not a big fan of the first half ngl, maybe that's because it's bad, or maybe it's because I've read it about a hundred times. The smut is good though, and that's what really matters.
________________________
"It's just a quick job, I promise. It'll be easy."
Steve gave you a smile of encouragement, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him, before politely averting his gaze to the floor when you lifted your dress slightly to slide your usual dagger into the holster on your thigh.
"Then what's with the getup?" You asked, lifting your head to catch sight of yourself in the mirror opposite you, looking at the dress you had been made to wear.
It was a pretty dress, beautiful actually, the colour beautiful against your skin-tone, perfectly fitted in all the right places, and it flowed down to the floor, a slit travelling up the length of your left leg, ending at your upper thigh.
You felt confident in it, and it was certainly a boost to your ego when Natasha wolf-whistled at the sight of you and Steve turned an impressive shade of red, but it wasn't something you were used to, having spent the past few years of your life dodging and refusing Tony's party invites, sticking to the comfiest clothes you owned when walking about the compound. It was a beautiful dress, but you couldn't help but feel like an imposter wearing it.
Natasha strode over to you and slightly adjusted the placement of your knife, ensuring it wasn't visible through the dress. "Daniel Kozlov. He's been on Shield's hit list for years now, fucker keeps catching and killing our agents on the inside."
You scoffed amusedly and shook your head, "What, so you send me in to get killed too?"
"Don't underestimate yourself, I've seen you take down four armed men with a screwdriver; you'll be fine, plus, you'll have Bucky and he knows how to stay undetected." Steve reassured you and you smiled at him, nodding to his words.
You heard footsteps behind you only moments before another voice spoke up, and you turned to the door, your breath catching in your throat as you did.
"That I do," Bucky nodded to Steve as he entered the room, eyes focused on his hands, adjusting his cuff links with a furrowed brow, before he finally tilted his gaze up, meeting your wide eyes with his own.
You barely noticed him looking you up and down, as you were too busy doing the exact same thing to him, no doubt probably being incredibly obvious as you stared with your lips parted. He looked like pure fucking sin.
Unadulterated and unfiltered sin.
His suit was all black and his pale, blue eyes contrasted against the colour, somehow making them stand out even more than usual. His already incredibly muscular arms and legs were accentuated, the expensive fabric tight against his skin, without it looking strange and uncomfortable, it only drew your attention to how broad his shoulders were compared to his narrow waist, or how thick his thighs looked in the black dress pants.
Multiple silver rings graced his fingers, matching with the silver, designer watch on his left wrist and you did a double-take when you noticed that his watch was wrapped around skin, not vibranium.
"Your arm." You said, sounding more like a statement than a question and Bucky forced himself to tear his gaze from your exposed thigh and tried to hide his pink dusted cheeks and breathless intake of air as his eyes followed yours to his metal arm, now concealed by what looked to be skin.
"Yeah." His voice came out as a sigh. He didn't know why, most amputees like him he was sure would be over the moon with the impressive technology, but it just made him uncomfortable, seeing his arm how he did 70 years ago. I felt inherently wrong. "Tony."
You nodded, looking away from his hand. A part of you was annoyed Tony had given it to him, knowing that it took Bucky years to accept that part of himself, and this seemed like it would be a setback in that department, though you still understood why it was necessary, Bucky was the best for the job, and chances are a criminal as 'highbrow' as Kozlov, would recognise the arm.
You wanted to change the subject, and you could tell Bucky did too, so you huffed a laugh and met his eyes, jokingly poking his chest with your finger, "You look like a mobster."
He nodded and chuckled, "Thanks, I guess. You look like a mobster's wife."
"Wife huh? Is that what we're doing?" You ask, turning your head to look down at Nat questioningly as she finished with your dress.
"Did they not tell you?" Bucky asked and you shook your head.
"I missed the briefing but Steve here thought he'd sign me up anyway." You gave the blonde a jokey, reprimanding look and he sighed, picking up two folders from the table and handing them to you.
"Blue one is about Kozlov, and the black is about who you and Bucky are going to be playing."
You take the folders from Steve, handing the blue one to Natasha as you open the black one, "James and Lucille Walter. Hey, how come he gets to keep his name and I get Lucille?"
"That's just a coincidence and I'm sure Bucky isn't too happy about it either. You're pretending to be a real couple, James Walter is one of Kozlov's newest buyers, he doesn't know him very well though, that's why you two shouldn't be caught out by anyone."
Nodding to Steve's words, you quickly skim over the rest of the folder, memorising as much as you can, before swapping with Nat and reading the other one, "And where are the real James and Lucille Walter?"
"Dead."
You stop your reading and turn to Natasha at the sound of her voice, giving her a look when she tried to hide her smirk.
"Ah, yes. Courtesy of Natasha Romanoff herself, Mr and Mrs Walter are in fact, dead" Steve spoke dramatically, causing you to scoff and wink at the redhead beside you.
"We should leave now. I'll explain further in the car and give you a rundown of the plan. Should be an easy job." Bucky takes the folders from you and tucks them under his arm, signalling for you to walk out the door and you give Steve and Natasha a smirk before you leave.
"Wish me luck guys."
_______________________________________
You were picked up from the compound by one of Stark's trusted drivers and Bucky described the plan in detail to you on the way there, but as you arrived closer and closer to your destination, you felt the nerves come on.
Usually, you were behind a computer screen on missions, hacking security cameras and breaking into encrypted files, you had no doubt of your fighting skills, you've been training almost your whole life, and the few missions you've done where you've had to fight were smooth sailing, but you had never done undercover before.
You started nibbling on your lower lip as soon as the car pulled up, doubting yourself again despite the amount of times Natasha has given you a whole speech about why you had no reason to ever do that.
The door on Bucky's side opened and when he offered you his arm to help you out of the car, meeting your eyes and giving you a gentle smile, you felt the nerves calm slightly.
You and Bucky were close in a way that no one had expected, considering he had the tendency to keep himself away from people and stay quiet when he was forced to socialise. You were slow-paced and gentle with him, a huge contrast to the way Sam would constantly be on Bucky about his lack of social skills, or Tony dragging him to parties he had no interest in. Sam always has the best intentions, but sometimes can be a little too enthusiastic for Bucky, and Tony, well sometimes Tony's just a dick with full knowledge of the fact that he's being one, and not a single care in the world about it.
You and Bucky both had an understanding, you had confided in him about your fears, your anxiety, and he had managed to do the same.
You just couldn't help but develop a teeny tiny crush on him over the past few months.
"Don't work yourself up, stay in character, stay alert, and remember the plan."
Nodding to him, you took a deep breath and put yourself into character, reminding yourself of yours and Bucky's new names, keeping your head up as you entered the party, an expensive diamond wrapped around your left ring finger with a similar pattern to the silver band Bucky had on his.
The hall was beautiful, gold detailing adorned the large doors and walls, reaching up to the ceiling to create beautiful patterns against the pristine white of the building. The party-goers were even more beautiful, hundreds of gowns and suits worth more than your life, probably bought and worn for a single night, before they're discarded and forgotten in the back of their walk-in closets.
You felt like you didn't fit in at all, but you watched as party guests eyed the two of you, and they seemed to be approving.
It didn't take you and Bucky long to get situated, stood in the corner of the extravagant hall with a glass of champagne now in your hand as you surveyed the exits and bodyguards, and Bucky looked for the target.
The mission was just a small lead in a huge investigation. You and Bucky were just here to buy something from Kozlov and then get out.
"Got him, 4 o-clock. He's surrounded but he should be expecting us so it shouldn't be an issue." Bucky had leant down to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling against your neck and causing a shiver to rake over your shoulders.
Fuck, he smelled like sin too.
It made you want to take a deeper breath, made you want to pull him even closer, close enough to close that small gap between your lips and kiss him till you run out of breath, and as much as that would be inconspicuous and normal for James and Lucille Walter, it would be completely inappropriate for Bucky and Y/n.
"We shouldn't go over yet. Let's just mingle a bit, get more of a feel of this place and blend into the background as much as we can." You add, and Bucky nods, surveying the room again before meeting your eyes.
"Good idea, but when we do go over, don't make eye contact with him and don't say anything," said Bucky. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, giving him a slightly annoyed, but understanding smile, and he smiled back apologetically, "I know, it's stupid, but that's what these guys are like. If he so much as thinks that you're either, on the table or threatening his masculinity, we're in trouble. Okay?"
You understood what Bucky was saying, men like Kozlov, they see women as property, or in some cases, currency. It's best to stay off their radar as best you can, which includes not threatening his masculinity by daring to look him in the eyes.
Women were to keep their heads down.
Which was bullshit.
"Okay."
He gives you a final nod and you think he's finally about to pull away and have mercy on your heart, but before he does, he pauses and presses his soft, warm lips to your cheek in a gentle kiss.
Air gets caught in your throat as it happens, but you try not to make an audible noise, quickly pulling yourself together and reminding yourself that you and Bucky are pretending to be a couple and he's just trying to sell it better. It makes sense.
It's just pretend.
You spend the whole evening with your hand wrapped around Bucky's bicep, neither of you breaking apart for anything as random people come up to you and try to start conversations. Usually, one of you will take one for the team and has to stand there talking about money and beach houses for five minutes, plus the occasional question about kids, which seemed to make Bucky blush every time, as the other keeps an eye on Kozlov.
"So how long have you two been married?" A seemingly kind lady asks, her red dress matching her lips as they stretch into an awkward smile.
"A year in June," You respond, well-rehearsed at this point as you smile up at your pretend husband, "Can't believe how quickly it's going."
Bucky is quick thinking with the act, and he smiles down at you, his arm wrapping gently around your waist and squeezing you to his side. Your heart probably stopped beating for a moment, and you wondered how he got so good at this, before brushing the thought away and looking back to the woman in the red dress, smiling warmly at her too.
"Ah, bet you two are still in the honeymoon phase. You look completely smitten with each other, it's adorable." She scrunched her nose up on the word 'adorable', her gaze flicking between the two of you before she glanced at her own husband, standing a few feet away as he laughed with a larger group of men, a big glass of whiskey in his hand. She sighed.
You tried to keep your face neutral, smiling and nodding along, but something about what she had said had caught in your chest, and you wished you could see just for a moment from someone else's eyes, just how 'smitten' you both look.
You felt bad for the woman, who stood in the middle of the huge ballroom completely alone and abandoned by her husband, but there wasn't anything you could do for her, and Bucky was subtly hinting to you that you were to go speak with Kozlov soon, so you kissed her cheek and bid her goodbye.
You spared Bucky a quick glance and he was focused on Kozlov, his face stoic as he glanced in his direction discreetly, scanning the exits too, checking for close-by security cameras and windows again, just in case.
"I think it's time, doll." He murmured.
You quickly lift your head to meet his eyes, the pet-name he usually only used when you were tipsy and would brush it off casually, slipping off his tongue, though it had the same effect sober or not, you blushed and nodded.
He smiled at you, almost looking fond, though you were pretty sure he was just offering you a break from the stoic, mission orientated Bucky, before he took a deep breath and reached for your hand on his bicep to hold it with his own, gently squeezing before guiding you towards the target.
As you walked Kozlov's way, who was surrounded by burly, most definitely armed bodyguards, you noticed the women surrounding him too, some with their husbands and all of them looking beyond uncomfortable, staring out at the party with bored, or even nervous expressions.
"James Walter," Bucky nodded to one of the bodyguards, who had stopped you both from passing, and the bodyguard shared a look with another, before nodding and letting you walk on.
Daniel Kozlov was sat comfortably in a velvet armchair as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, seemingly stuck in a boring conversation as he stared at the wall before him, completely uninterested in what the man talking to him had to say.
"Mr Kozlov, I'm James Walter, It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
Kozlov perked up at the sound of a new voice and a wide, Cheshire cat grin formed on his lips as he regarded you and Bucky, though you kept your eyes to the floor, or seemingly 'admiring' the expensive decorations as the men spoke.
"Ah, my new friend! I was hoping you'd show up, had a few men flake out on me recently," The man spoke dramatically, his thick European accent prevalent and images of his file flashed in your head, remembering that Shield had been taking down his buyers one by one, either arresting them on other charges or putting a bullet between their eyes as Natasha had done with the real Mr and Mrs Walter.
They weren't particularly very nice people, so you didn't hold much guilt for their deaths, or stealing their identity after the fact.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sir. Heard you've got something I have my interests set on." Bucky's voice was smooth and charismatic, matching Kozlov's energy as best he could, and you couldn't lie, it made your blood run warmer, heat spreading to certain parts of your body you were ashamed to admit were reacting to the confidence he exuded tonight.
"Hm... I suppose I do. Do you always allow your wife to be a part of your deals?" Your looked up slightly at his mention of you, and Kozlov smirked wickedly at the expression on your face, "Women can be god-awful gossips sometimes."
This fucking guy-
Bucky squeezed your hand tightly, forcing the words from his tongue, "I assure you, sir. She is nothing to worry about."
He was just as pissed as you were.
"I don't know, she doesn't really seem like the quiet type, I reckon she's a loud-mouth once she's on her back, although I'm sure having her on her knees will shut her up nice and quiet." He chuckled darkly and Bucky's hand was holding yours so tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching, measured breaths exhaled through his nose, he still managed to keep his face blank though, as did you, quietly seething as you put on the frightened baby deer look that men seemed to love, staring down at the floor.
He needed to think you were in the same position as the other poor, frightened women here, that he'd get bored with you all the same.
You swallowed your tongue though, wanting nothing more than to speak up and put the bastard in his place, right before beating the absolute shit out of him, though you knew that would come in due time, for now all you could do was finish this fucking mission.
"She won't be a problem."
Kozlov laughed, knowing he was getting under James' skin. He stood from the armchair and nodded towards Bucky, the smile sinking, trying to look intimidating, despite the fact that he was practically less than half the size of Bucky, "Make your payment."
Bucky pulled a phone from his pocket, sending a single word in a text and waiting for the confirmation only seconds later, before tucking it away again, "Payment made."
Daniel looked over at a man sat in the corner with a laptop and when he nodded, he turned back to look at Bucky, his hand sneaking into his own pocket and pulling out a hard drive, handing it to Bucky before taking a step back and looking you up and down.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
You swallowed your irritation, narrowly avoiding the urge to roll your eyes at the way he was eyeing you like a piece of meat, Bucky opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a glare.
"I asked the wife, not you. Name?" He spoke through gritted teeth, obviously quick to anger, and you fought back the urge to fucking bitch slap him, take the dagger from your thigh and press it to his neck, but you were sticking to the deer in headlights act.
"Lucille."
A smirk overtook his face, a healed scar on his cheek stretching as he did so, "Pretty name for a pretty thing."
At this point, Bucky was squeezing your hand so hard again, your fingers were starting to go numb, the rings he was wearing digging uncomfortably into your skin, but you didn't pull away, instead, you returned the tight grip to try to reassure him.
Taking a step closer to you, Daniel Kozlov lifted his hand to your cheek, making you flinch slightly and you clenched your jaw when the back of his hand caressed your cheek, his skin ice-cold against yours.
"I happen to collect pretty things."
Bucky felt sick to his stomach, knowing that he couldn't do anything besides stand there and watch, stepping out of line in any way would end in a fight, and he knew he couldn't risk lives, or the mission.
A part of you was expecting him to backhand you, but he never did Instead, he touched your cheek for a while longer, glancing over at Bucky with a smile before he took a step away from you and laughed at the murderous look Bucky was trying to hide, he knew that Bucky was in a position where there wasn't much he could do to stop him, and he openly mocked him for it, "I could take her off your hands for the night for you, teach her some manners. Maybe she'll learn to answer her superiors quickly, when they ask her a question."
"Not necessary." Bucky's voice was scarily even, but his jaw was aching from how hard he was grinding his teeth together and he started pulling you closer to him, shooting Kozlov a dangerous glare, "I think it's time we leave."
"Of course, of course. No doubt you need to get her to bed."
Bucky ignored his words and turned, pushing his way past the bodyguards and pulling you along by your hand, making you stumble in your heels.
"James." You called out as you tried to catch up with him. His grip on your hand was starting to hurt again but he kept walking with intent, pulling you out of the grand doors at the entrance to the hall and towards the expensive car you had arrived in.
He handed the driver a wad of cash and told him to leave, giving him a silent glare which obviously meant 'fuck off' when the guy hesitated.
As Bucky pulled open the passenger seat door and helped you into the car, you glared at him, though when he ducked his head into the car and leant over you to put your seatbelt on for you, the intensity behind the glare faded and you were left just staring wide eyed at him, and instead of yelling at him and telling him that you were perfectly capable of doing your own seatbelt, you were lost for words with how close his body was to yours, his breath fanning against your bare shoulder.
You could only breathe when he pulled away and slammed the door shut, rounding the car to get into the driver's seat, not sparing you another glance as he turned on the engine and put the car into gear, speeding off into the city.
his frustration and anger filled the space with tension.
"Bucky, you need to calm down," You tried but he continued to ignore you, one hand on the gear stick and the other gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. You sighed, his frustration and anger filled the space with tension, and you concluded that he was a grown man who could calm himself down.
You dropped your head against the seat as you focused on the view outside your window, the lights of the city burning bright against the night sky.
You glanced at the side-view mirror, and rolled your eyes when you realised it was the same car that was behind you when you left the party, "We're being followed."
Bucky's hearing was obviously working. When he heard what you said, his eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and he sighed heavily, "Fuck."
"Where are we gonna go? None of the safehouses are fancy enough for Mr and Mrs Walter."
"We'll have to go to a hotel, they shouldn't give us any trouble unless we seem suspicious. There's no way Kozlov would have us killed immediately after a sale, too risky," You nod at his words, knowing that Bucky was an expert at things like this due to his past with Hydra, he knew how men like Kozlov worked, how their brains ticked, and you trusted him completely. "Okay, I know where to go." He said as you kept an eye on the car, taking note of the plate number and trying to get a view of the person driving it, "Text Nat with the burner in my pocket, tell her we'll be at The Pierre, tell her to bring backup just in case but keep them minimally armed, it's just a precaution."
You sigh again, looking away from the car behind you and back to Bucky, "Which pocket?"
"Inside pocket, left side."
You nibbled on your lower lip as you reached over to him, and he tilted his body to you slightly in assistance. Bucky gulped, and you blushed as your hands brushed against his shirt when you reached into his suit jacket, searching for the pocket.
His body was incredibly warm and it only made you want to draw out the situation even longer as Bucky fought to keep his concentration on the road and the car behind, but eventually, your fingers brushed against the phone and you hesitantly pulled it out and sat back in your seat, a long exhale coming from him as you did so and he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, shooting you a quick glance, his gaze falling to how exposed your thigh had become with the movement, though he tore his eyes away quickly.
You slipped the phone back into Bucky's pocket once you had received Natasha's quick response, and Bucky pulled up to the hotel. You watched in quiet amusement as the man following parked not-so-discreetly, a bit further down the street.
"Remember who your playing." Bucky shot you a final glance as he turned off the ignition and got out of the car, straightening out his suit jacket as he walked to the passenger side and pulled open the door, offering his arm to you and helping you out of the car.
You hated how real it all felt, him doting on you when you were trying desperately hard to convince yourself it was an act, but you still wrapped both your hands around his arm, draping yourself against his side as you walked towards the entrance, telling yourself that you did it only for the upkeep of the ruse.
The tension between you was undeniable as Bucky looked down at you, his expression serious, but not stern, only intense.
"James? Are we going in?" You asked, using his fake yet real name and it seemed to wake him from his daze, nodding as he reminded himself of his surroundings and the man now wandering closer to them, his phone to his ear, though he didn't speak into it.
"Course, doll. Just admiring my wife's beauty in the city lights."
Your mouth fell open slightly at his words but he didn't give you much time to react before he was walking you into the hotel, and you were thankful that he wasn't dragging you this time.
Bucky didn't waste any time, quickly moving to one of the people running the front desk and glaring down at him.
"Name?"
"James Walter," He spoke and the man nodded, typing something out on his computer before handing Bucky a black key-card, giving him a fearful smile.
Stepping away from the front desk, Bucky moved to your left as he discreetly put his hand into his pocket and slipped the burner phone into your hand, and you switched the phone into your right hand once you realised his plan, tossing the phone into the garbage bag on the back of a janitors cart before walking into the elevator.
You sighed heavily as you both finally entered the hotel room, trudging to the bed in the middle of the giant room and collapsing on it as Bucky started scoping out the room, quickly checking the bathroom and shutting all the curtains.
"We're going to have to stay here all night, aren't we? That guy isn't gonna go anywhere." You sighed, closing your eyes as you sunk into the mattress.
"One bed." Bucky said, and you peaked your eyes open one at a time, moving your gaze to the man now slouched in the armchair tucked into the corner of the large room, still looking beyond annoyed.
"Huh?"
His jaw ticked in annoyance as his head fell back against the chair, "There's only one bed."
Oh.
"Oh," You sat up on the bed, looking around the room awkwardly.
You didn't really want to think about what that could mean, it either formed butterflies in your stomach, or disappointment.
He didn't have to act so upset about it.
"Is it that bad?" You scoffed, half joking, half serious, and Bucky lifted his head, his eyes widening, lips parted.
"No, that's not what I-" He cut himself off, sighing and furrowing his eyebrows, looking guilty, "Sorry. I'm just so fucking annoyed."
You smiled and nodded, "I know, me too. We're one step closer to getting this guy though, Buck."
He nodded too, eyes closing again, his jaw unclenching, finding some kind of relief in your words.
"We don't have to share if you don't want, but I'm okay with it if you are. I trust you. Plus, we've fallen asleep on the couch together before, can't be that much different." You shrugged, acting nonchalant, although you felt extremely not, as you stood up, sick of the feeling of your knife's handle digging uncomfortably in your skin.
You pulled your skirt up to expose your other thigh, lifting your right foot to rest on the bed, while making sure not to flash Bucky in the process as you pull the dagger out, throwing it back on the bed, leaving the garter on for now.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight, watching as your dagger glided against the skin of your thigh as you removed it from yourself, tossing it onto the white bed sheets before dropping your foot back to the floor.
"No it's... I don't- uh." He trailed off, losing his train of thought, obviously distracted.
You looked at him, eyes dropping to follow the movement of his tongue wetting his lips, and you knew you'd never get the sight of him right now out of your mind. His legs were spread, sitting comfortably in the chair, one of his arms draped over the arm of the chair, while he rested his elbow with the other one, holding his head up with his thumb and index finger on the side of his tilted head.
He regarded you silently, his eyes dazed, and you wondered if it could possibly be because he was feeling the same exact way as you right now.
Bucky was struggling to think straight, scrunching his face up in frustration when he finally snapped out of his daze, the frustration completely different to what he was feeling before, now he just couldn't get the image of your thighs out of his mind, or the black thigh garter you still wore under your dress.
God, you drive him fucking crazy.
You chewed the inside of your cheek when he sighed again, "Buck, you need to chill out. I know Kozlov is a fucking asshole, but we expected that. We got the mission done with no big issues."
He stared up at the ceiling, feeling so guilty that he was looking at you that way, thinking about you in that way, especially after the reminder of Kozlov and how undoubtedly uncomfortable he must've made you feel.
"I know, I just hate feeling powerless. That prick was touching you and saying horrible shit and I just stood there-"
"Bucky."
He huffed a breath and opened his eyes, only to be met with the beautiful sight of you stood before him, only a few feet away, your dress clinging to all the right places and your eyes locked to his and he felt a familiar heat stirring up inside him again. He stared up at you as if you were a heaven-sent angel.
The tension in the room was so thick, and you both knew why, though neither of you had the guts to admit, nor say anything about it.
Your intentions were pure at first, and for some reason, on the way towards where he was sitting, you never thought about the very un-pure version of your actions until you were stood in front of him, barely thinking about it when you sunk to your knees before him, your hands resting just above his knees on his spread legs.
At first, you told yourself it was because you wanted to talk to him properly, make sure he was okay, and that included you being on his level physically, but now you realised it was mostly because you so desperately wanted to see him like this, his gaze heated, looking down at you between his thighs with parted lips.
It didn't matter that you were the one on your knees, you'd never felt more powerful.
His gaze was unwavering, the intense, lustful look in his eyes alone had you clenching your thighs together as you thought about your next move, and Bucky lifted one of his hands towards your face, brushing the back of his fingers down your cheek, just as Kozlov had done earlier, though this touch was completely different, and your eyes fluttered shut, a sigh escaping you as his fingers caressed your cheek, ridding the memory of Kozlov's cold skin against yours with his soft, warm touch, and you pulled your eyes open to meet his again, lifting your hand to take hold of his.
You looked down at the rings he was wearing, one on almost each finger, apparently it was a common style choice from James Walter, and it wasn't the first time tonight that you'd silently thanked the dead mobster for that fact.
They'd been catching your eye all night, and you lifted his knuckles to your lips, placing a kiss against the smooth metal of the first one on his index finger, and then the next one, and the next.
Bucky watched you kiss his rings, his eyes darkening with every touch of your soft lips to his knuckles, so entranced by you, slowly sinking further into the seat, melting with each touch.
He couldn't think of any repercussions right now, couldn't think of a single reason to stop you, all he could think about was what you were doing to him right now, and where these actions could lead you, and his pants were getting tighter by the second.
You met his eyes with your lips still on his knuckles, and you both immediately knew what this was, where this could be going, and that the thick tension between you, was sexual tension like no other.
Bucky's heart must've stopped when you opened his fist and slipped his index and middle finger past your lips, enveloping them in the hot, wetness of your mouth, your soft tongue circling over his digits, sucking on them, He couldn't help but groan, leaning his head back, though still keeping his half-lidded eyes on you.
"Fuck, doll. So fuckin' gorgeous."
You weren't thinking straight, you must not've been, because why the hell would you be doing this, why was it something you didn't even have to question, why did it feel so natural, and so fucking right.
The words that slipped past his lips were doing things to you, and the way that his fingers pressed down on your tongue slightly, but weren't nearly as heavy against it as something else you wanted on your tongue would be, you were a goner, and your underwear was already soaked.
You pulled his fingers from your mouth but kept hold of them as you crawled onto his lap, his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you to him, his lips so close to yours you were sharing breath.
Slowly, you guided his fingers down, sliding them under the slit in your dress to bring them to your covered core, watching his facial expression intently, watching for any sign of discomfort.
There was none, and his breath caught in his throat when his fingers made contact, the heat of you radiating against his hand, he could already feel how wet you are.
"Fuck." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing, forehead resting on yours, "You sure about this sweetheart? You want me to touch you?"
You nodded immediately, biting your lower lip, pressing his hand against you harder, "Yes. Are you sure?"
He nodded back, "Never been more sure about anything in my fuckin' life."
You moaned when he finally started moving his fingers, circling your clit gently over your underwear, though with enough pressure to give some sort of relief, but it was when he pulled your panties aside, and dipped his fingers into your wetness, spreading your folds and gathering your slick, before pressing his fingers against your clit and rubbing you in tighter circles, that you were a mess in his lap.
"Bucky-" You whimpered, rolling your hips slightly, and he licked his lips again, nudging his nose against yours, wanting so desperately to kiss you, but also not wanting to miss a single expression you made, he wanted to watch you fall apart under his touch, again, and again, and again.
"You know something, sweetheart?" He asked, waiting for confirmation that you were paying attention to him before continuing.
You rolled your hips again, staring into his eyes, moaning out in pleasure, "What?"
"You drove me fucking crazy tonight, every time you touched me, every time you looked at me- God, whenever you said my name- I'd never heard you call me that before, my first name, fuck I don't ever want to stop hearin' you callin' me that."
His words made you dizzy, the confirmation that he'd felt the same as you all night, the confession that he loved it when you called him 'James' just as much as you loved calling him it, you were sinking deeper and deeper into this feeling, that this moment couldn't be more right, more necessary, like you'd both been needing this for months now.
By the time he had finished talking, he had slowed his touch to a complete stop, and dipped his fingers lower, pushing them inside you.
You gasped, he groaned, and when he curled them, finding that sweet spot inside you and pushing against it perfectly, you cried out, dropping your forehead to his shoulder and tucking your face in his neck.
He didn't let up with his gentle thrusting, and the insistent rubbing against that spongy spot inside of your cunt. He used his free hand to move your head from his shoulder, leaning himself forward slightly, holding you closer, and finally kissing you.
You whimpered and moaned against his lips, though returned the kiss passionately, both of your hands in his hair, your tongue gliding against his own.
This was unlike any experience you'd ever had, every touch dialled up to 100.
He used his thumb to rub your clit, still curling and rubbing his fingers against your walls, and when you started to clench down on him, he pulled back from the kiss.
"C'mon, kitten, cum on my fingers like a good girl." He purred, and your head tilted back, moaning as you came, your orgasm only spurred on quicker by his words.
"James-" You whimpered, his touch not letting up as he pleasured you through your orgasm, though when you were through most of it, you crashed your lips to his.
You kissed until you ran out of breath, doing exactly what you had wanted to do earlier, what you had wanted to do for months. Bucky gently eased his fingers out of you, and when you tucked your face in his neck again, catching your breath, you could tell he was sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of you.
It was quiet for a moment between you, only the gentle sound of your slightly laboured breath filling the space, Bucky held you close to him, his fingers gently tracing up and down your spine through the fabric of your dress, you gave a pleased hum and kissed his neck, just above his collar.
It didn't matter that you'd just barely come down from an orgasm, you needed more, you needed him.
"James." You whispered against his neck, just below his ear and he just about melted into the chair beneath you, humming to let you know he was listening, though you didn't say anything else, a part of you just wanted to say his name again, and to feel his pleased reaction to it.
His body was so warm under yours, but there were far too many layers of fabric between you and him and you desperately wanted to fix that, 'adjusting' yourself on his lap just so you could provide some friction between you, biting your lip and sighing into his ear when you felt how hard he was beneath you, he groaned and gripped your hips tightly.
"I wanna feel you inside me, James." Your voice was as sweet as sugar, breath warm against his skin, and your heated core was seated just above where his hard cock was pressing tightly against his pants, throbbing with every small movement you made.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He husked, no doubt sounding like a broken record, though he didn't care much about that, not when you were pressing yourself against him like that, slowly rocking in his lap, not when he could still faintly taste you in his mouth from where he had sucked his fingers clean, not with your mouth on his neck, whispering dirty things.
You kissed the hinge of his jaw, then ghosted your lips lower, pressing a kiss just below his ear, before making your way to the other side, leaving sweet kisses as you went.
You met his eye as you traced your hand up his black shirt, watching his expression as you slowly loosened his tie, and popped the top button open, and then the next, giving yourself better access to the skin there, kissing below his Adam's apple.
"C'mon, Buck. You wanna fuck me?" You asked, looking up at him through your lashes this time, teasing him with a smirk.
He bit his lip, holding your cheek in his palm, thumb swiping across your cheekbone, his eyes darting across your face, taking in every detail he could while he was so close to you.
So pretty.
"I do, of course I do, doll." He said back, his eyes following the movement of his thumb against soft skin. You could sense the 'but' coming, "But... I don't think we should-"
"Bucky." You interrupted, stopping what you know would've become this huge, self-doubting, self-sabotaging speech, and he met your eyes again, sighing slightly, his head tilted, "If we both want this, then why can't we have it?"
He didn't know what to say, he couldn't imagine a world were someone would really want him, as he was, much less a smart, loving and kind, beautiful girl like yourself. He believed you when you said you wanted this, but was still unsure if you would really want him, want him beyond this moment.
"If we go further, I'll never be able to get enough of you." He spoke quietly, this moment between you was so intimate, which was something he'd not experienced in decades. It was terrifying, but so perfect, so right. 
"You have all of me, Bucky. I want you, not just tonight. I've wanted you for months, honey, and if you want me too then what have we got to lose? You can have me whenever you need me, whenever you want me, I'm yours, yours now, yours tomorrow. If you need a hug," You wrapped your arms around his neck as you spoke and held him tighter, "If you need a kiss," You pressed your lips to his, "If you need a release; I'll be there, because you have me, always have."
By the time you were just halfway into your speech, Bucky was a puddle, his brain short-circuiting, his heart beating much faster than it should be with him just sitting, and his whole world view collapsing.
You were his.
You wanted to be his.
He was yours completely.
He surged forward to press his lips to yours, and kissed you for a long moment, using his tongue to memorise the feel of your mouth, the heat of your own tongue against his, and he stood as he kissed you, holding you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He carried you with such ease and sat down on the edge of the huge bed, not once breaking the kiss, or putting an ounce space between your bodies.
You helped him to shrug off his suit jacket, tossing it to the floor as if it didn't probably cost hundreds of dollars, and deft fingers quickly reached to undo his tie.
The tie was silky and smooth, and your imagination was bright with ideas, the image of Bucky fucking you, with your hands tied above your head, or maybe tying Bucky up just the same, kissing his cock teasingly, without letting him touch you.
You tabled the ideas for now, tossing the tie aside.
You could experiment with him in due time, for now you just wanted to be able to touch him as much as possible.
You were both still enraptured in the kiss when Bucky stood again, this time turning around, and laying you down on the mattress, pressing himself against you as he placed one last kiss on your lips, and pulled back to admire the sight of you, blushing with kiss-bitten lips as you lay beneath him.
He traced his hands down your body and stood at the end of the bed, his shirt almost halfway undone.
His fingers glided down your legs, and ended at your ankles as he eyed the strappy heals you wore, admiring how beautiful you looked in them. He imagined keeping them on you, stripping you down and bending you over the closest surface, whilst still wearing the heels, maybe keeping on the thigh-garter too, but he wanted you comfortable, and he wanted you naked.
Gently, he undid the strap on one of your heels, and slowly pulled it off, before doing the same to the other one.
He kept glancing up at you as he did so, watching you so intently, he didn't dare miss a single moment, a single change in your expression.
His hands traced back up your legs, this time, he kissed his way up too, kissing you ankle, your shin, just below the garter.
He stopped himself though, and looked you in the eyes, that serious look returning, "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes. Please, James."
He smirked, he couldn't not, and his hand drifted to your hip, squeezing there, before using both his hands to flip you over, leaning over you and pressing his hand against your back.
You gasped in surprise, and then felt his fingers against the zip of the dress, his breath against the nape of your neck.
"Should we take this off?" He asked sweetly, and you nodded silently, your voice trapped in your throat, that cocky, dominant persona you had taken on earlier apparently about to be fucked out of you. You couldn't wait.
He flipped you back over to help ease the dress off, leaving you only in a lacy pair of underwear, your chest exposed to him, and once the dress was on the floor, and Bucky allowed himself the chance to finally look at you, he groaned roughly, draping his body over yours and reaching up to caress your breasts, watching as his thumb traced over the hardened peaks of your nipples, "So fucking gorgeous."
Your hands were in his hair, back arching into his touch when he took your nipple into his mouth, paying attention to the other one with his fingers, and as much as you were enjoying it, he was still wearing way too much, and you put your fingers under his chin, pulling his mouth away from you.
He kissed you as you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off, quickly followed by his pants and soon you were both left in your underwear.
You pushed at his shoulder, and he eventually got the memo, and rolled aside, letting you sit on top of him, carefully moving the dagger you had left on the bed onto the bedside table.
When you pulled back from the kiss, he continued to kiss down your chest, but your eyes drifted to the hand he had on your waist, the left one, that still looked like skin even though it wasn't.
You had almost completely forgotten about it, it felt just like skin, was warm like skin, and looked unbelievably life-like, but there was something about it that you really didn't like, it wasn't him, it might've been once, but as Bucky has told you before, he's not been the man he was back in the 40s in over seventy years, and he probably wouldn't ever be him again, which you reminded him was okay, that he didn't owe Steve the version of himself that Bucky thought he would need.
You knew about the struggles Bucky has had with his metal arm, the history that there is behind it, and the hatred he had for it when he was first rehabilitated. You didn't want this impressive Stark invention to become something he used to hide this part of himself, against the needs of his own healing.
You started at his left shoulder, and traced your fingers down the arm, stopping at the silver watch on his wrist, and Bucky stopped kissing you, watching you, waiting.
"Is it the watch?" You asked, and he hesitated, before nodding.
"You don't have to take it off."
You paused, looking down at him, he looked slightly uncomfortable, and you needed to change that.
"I'd like to take it off. Do you want to leave it on?"
He was quiet for a moment, thinking about your question. It made him uncomfortable, seeing the uncanny, flesh arm in place of the metal one he knew was there, and to see a human arm, yet not be able to really feel the touch of your skin against it, only pressure and heat. He didn't like it.
He shook his head, and you smiled, kissing him again as you carefully undid the watch with your mouth still on his, pulling back to see his metal arm visible again, and you intertwined your fingers with his, metal against skin.
You did the same with his other hand, intertwining your fingers, before lifting them both above his head, pressing them into the mattress. You knew he could very easily break out of your grasp, but that didn't make the sight any less pleasing.
You rocked your hips against his, just as you did before, and he groaned, lifting his own hips, seeking more friction.
Reluctantly, you released his hands, and quickly took off your underwear, leaving you naked above him, before you took his off too.
You couldn't possibly be any wetter, your inner thighs a mess of slick as you watched his cock slap against his stomach, painfully hard and leaking at the tip.
"Fuck, James. D'you know how beautiful you are?" You asked, slowly touching the underside of his cock, tracing an enticing vein, before gripping him in your hand and squeezing him.
A moan slipped past his lips, hips lifting from the bed again.
He shook his head in response to you, smiling, "Do you know how beautiful you are?"
He flipped you both over again, his hands tracing your body, lingering in certain areas, squeezing your breasts, caressing your stomach, lifting your thigh to rest on his hip, dipping between your legs to press down on your clit, "You're fuckin' breathtaking, doll, and so fucking wet."
He gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, and dipped them back into his mouth again for a taste, moaning around them.
"I wanna eat you so bad, kitten." He lowered himself to you, resting on his elbows on either side of your head, kissing your neck.
"Later. I need you inside me, James." You pressed your core against him, and he nodded, reaching between the two of you to line himself up, slowly easing inside.
You both moaned as he slid inside you, Bucky's eyes fluttering shut, savouring the sensation whilst trying desperately hard not to give in to the urge to immediately bury himself at the hilt, and fuck you without a moments hesitation.
His hips twitched, cock throbbing inside of you, both of you were so desperate for this, and when he finally pulled his hips back, and rolled them back to yours, it was relief like no other.
His first few thrusts were slower, so enraptured by how you felt around him, hot and wet, and fucking perfect. Eventually, he started to speed up, but favoured fucking you harder, rather than faster. He didn't want this to end too quickly.
You were sprawled beneath him, biting your lower lip and moaning with every stroke of his cock against your walls, his body completely draped over yours so with every roll of his hips, his pelvis stimulated your clit. When he started to fuck you harder, repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, you were crying out in pleasure, already feeling close to another orgasm.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good, y'know that? I'm never gonna get enough of this, gonna want to fuck you all the time, 'm never gonna think of anything else." His forehead was resting on your shoulder, one of his hands on your stomach as his other held him up on the bed, "I want you to be mine. Mine to fuck, mine to kiss, mine every minute of the day. God, I want everyone to know, sweetheart, want them to know you're James' girl."
You were moaning with every word, nodding along, whining when his hand drifted lower, his thumb hovering over your clit, but staying completely still, teasing you.
Your heart was so full, just like your cunt, and you hoped to god he'd follow through on his promises, you needed to be his, just as much as you needed him to be yours.
"James, please." You begged, arching your back into him, and he lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you, smiling with a shake of his head.
"You beg real pretty, doll, but you can do better than that. Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."
Your eyes practically rolled back, fuck, you loved hearing him talk like this, "I want to cum, please."
He nodded, leaning in close to you, "You want to cum? I'll let you cum, princess."
He began to rub your clit in steady circles, keeping up a steady rhythm that dragged you so close to release.
"C'mon, come for me, sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm rushed over you, and you gripped Bucky's hair tighter, your cunt clenching around him sending him head first into his own orgasm, his hips stuttering against yours as he came inside you, filling you up with his seed.
His forehead was pressed to yours, both of you slowly coming down from your high, and Bucky waited till you'd caught your breath to lean down and kiss you, slower this time, savouring the taste of you as best he could.
You kissed him back eagerly, aftershocks of your orgasm washing over you and making you clench down on him, still inside of you. Bucky groaned into your mouth, before he hesitantly broke the kiss, and leaned back to slide out of you.
"Fuck, sweetheart, such a fucking mess we made." He breathed roughly, glancing down between your legs, watching his cum seep out of you, so turned on by the filthy sight, before looking up at you again, tracing his eyes up your body, completely bared to him. He took in every detail, and smiled at your flushed cheeks, "You're so fucking beautiful."
You smiled back at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your legs around him and reached out, pulling him back down to you to nudge your nose against his, watching the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled, "So are you."
He huffed a laugh and kissed you, before burying his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and holding you as close to him as possible, practically laying completely on top of you, though he held most of his own weight. As much as you would completely, happily welcome the weight of him on top of you, you also know that breathing is kind of a necessary thing to survive... sadly.
"We need to shower." He murmured against your skin, rubbing his stubbly jaw against your shoulder.
You hummed and nodded, raking your nails across the surface of his back.
"We should probably talk too." He followed, keeping his face hidden from your sight.
"We should, but I don't think there's much to talk about that we haven't already. We both want each other, and not just physically."
He lifted his head and gazed down at you, his expression vulnerable, more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him, even with him naked above you, "So... like lovers?"
You smiled at the old-fashioned term, much preferring it to boyfriend and girlfriend, and you nodded, gently brushing hair from his face, "I'd love that, Buck, if you want that too?"
"Yes, I want that, so much."
"Good, let's make it official then."
He nodded smiling down at you, before he stood from the bed, and he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to the hotel en-suite like he had carried you to the bed earlier.
"You're my girl now, sweetheart." He whispered to your ear, loving the way it sounded on his lips.
"And you're my guy." You replied, kissing his nose.
"Sure am." He smiled proudly, setting you down on the bathroom sink as he turned the shower on, before he turned back to you, leaning on his hands, which rested either side of you, "I will be taking you out on a date when we get back, just so you know."
"I can't wait, baby."
6K notes · View notes
misshoneyimhome · 8 months
Note
Can i please ask a small scenario of luke hughes finishing first and he is so embarrassed and cute and hides his face in readers face and neck. Reader is so calm and sweet to him. Thanks love 🥰
Okay okay, so this was very brief! And also my first time writing about Luke Hughes... and I know I said no players born after 2001, but what can I say, I do like a challenge 🙈 Though I do feel like I violated him...
Hope it's alright love 😉🤍
Warnings; 18+ smut; protected sex (p in v);
Word count; 1.5K
・✶ 。゚
Practice makes perfect | Luke Hughes 🖋️⚡️
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"What a game, huh?" you exclaimed with excitement as you greeted Luke, who was coming out of the locker room after the New Jersey game against the Blackhawks.
"It was alright," the young defensemen simply smiled in response.
"Alright? Luke, you played amazingly tonight," you embraced him in a hug, smiling up at your tall boyfriend, feeling he deserved more praise.
"Thanks," he flashed you a sweet, humble smile, wrapping his long arms around your body. Tucking you into him before letting you go and admiring your beautiful face. "So, what's the plan now?"
You could sense a slight hint of nervousness in his question, considering that you and Luke had only recently started seeing each other.
You had gotten to know him platonically during the summer, and as the regular season progressed, you slowly grew closer. However, your relationship was still fairly new.
"Coming over to your place?" you timidly suggested in a sweet voice, and Luke couldn’t help but return your joy. You always had a way of making him weak in the knees, from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, where he mentally had to kick himself multiple times for taking so long to ask you out.
"Definitely!"
And there you were, entwined on his sofa, celebrating the night's victory, with his 6'2" frame leaning over you. Your fingers intertwined in his brown curls as his lips caressed yours, his tongue gently seeking entrance, meeting yours with hunger.
The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. The celebration continued with the faint sound of the TV playing highlights of the game in the background. The scent of victory lingered in the air, mixed with the comforting aroma of the takeout you both had enjoyed earlier.
"Easy, Luke," you chuckled lightly into the kiss, feeling his desire growing, along with impatience and almost neediness. "Slow down, we've got time."
"Sorry, babe," he breathed out with a light smile. "I'm just so..."
"Turned on?" you asked, your eyes glancing downwards to his very hard member, concealed in his sweats.
"Yeah," he softly admitted before once again pressing his mouth onto yours. Although he did try to slow down a little, it was rather difficult for him.
You were one of the most gorgeous and sweet girls he'd ever met. His hockey career always making it difficult to date like a regular teenager, and as a young adult having to take life seriously now, it hadn't gotten any easier.
But then you came around. And though he wasn't exactly a virgin when the two of you met, he might still have been on the less experienced side. Again, his hard work to reach the same level of career as his brothers had limited his social life. Which also meant his intimate time with girls.
And as you felt his rather sizeable length, firm against your inner thigh, you knew he was too worked up to slow down any further.
"Bedroom, Luke..." you breathed in between his sloppy kisses, and before long, he guided you to his room, where he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned hockey torso, while you discarded your own blouse. Trousers went next, and not many seconds passed before you were back in the same position, your legs on each side of Luke as he hovered over you, lips connected, bodies growing warmer with every touch, creating friction, and sweat.
Yet, despite his deep need to feel himself reaching the much-anticipated climax, Luke was still trying his best to focus on you.
So, as you shared the passionate kiss, his fingers found the edge of your knickers, gently sneaking a finger inside as he located your entrance, poking and teasing before sliding it in.
Soft moans escaped your lips as you felt the pleasure he was causing, and you slowly developed an impatient need for more, which was given to you with a second finger.
And as Luke skilfully fingered you, something he'd, of course, learned from his older brothers, he too felt the impending surge of pleasure within him. The room filled with the heady mix of desire and intimacy, creating a space where time seemed to stand still, solely dedicated to the symphony of your shared sensations.
His cock was already dripping with pre-cum, creating a small damp patch in his boxers as he felt it throbbing, almost pulsating, craving to be touched.
"Yes, Luke," you moaned softly as you felt his fingers massaging your walls.
But with every pump, he felt himself in more need to feel those walls around his length instead. So, as impatience took over, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling a void as he shifted his position, pulled off his boxers, and then returned to tuck down your underwear.
His facial expression was so serious, much like when he was playing hockey - focused and determined. Yet, this time, he also seemed desperate to be touched and in need to reach his peak.
Reaching over to the nightstand where Jack had been kind enough to place a few condoms as a joke, he took out the little packaging. However, as he seemed to fumble with it, you offered him a helping hand.
"Here, let me," you smiled up at him as you took out the latex and gently wrapped his length, causing little squirms from the boy above you, as your touch made him feel the sense of pleasure he was craving.
And then swiftly, he returned to missionary once more and let the tip of his member gently touch and tease your tight entrance.
"Slowly, love," you tried with a soft whisper. However, as Luke eased himself into your depth, your whisper quickly turned into a moan instead, feeling his long shaft filling your warmth.
"Shit..." he breathed out, slowly beginning to rock his hips, letting his cock glide in and out of you as he stimulated your walls. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared passion, a harmony of gasps, moans, and the rhythmic dance of bodies entwined in the heat of the moment. The intensity grew, the connection deepening with every thrust, creating a heated atmosphere. 
"That's it, Luke..." you moaned in between breaths as he found a solid pace, thrusting and hitting the very end of your depth. Your hands finding his locks that you could pull on as you felt the building of an orgasm once again within.
However, the more Luke felt stimulated, the more he increased his speed. His thrusts slowly grew eager and more forceful as he got closer to his climax, still feeling the rush of a win from the match as he pounded into you.
And you felt him getting sloppier. His eyes shutting close as he desperately fought not to reach the peak, trying his best to have you come with him. Carefully he listened to your moans as you were about to let yourself give in to an orgasm as well.
"Yes, baby... I'm close... please come with me..." Luke almost cried out.
And you were almost there with him.
But as you were about to announce your climax, the tightening of your core around Luke's shaft had him involuntarily come a little too close to his peak. And with a deep, uncontrollable grunt, he let himself go, spilling his release into the latex as he felt the rush take over.
"Fuck..." Luke shouted, letting go of the last drops, his body trembling as he almost collapsed and fell with his face into the crook of your neck. The room was filled with the aftermath of passion, both of you catching your breath in the shared intimacy of the moment. The echoes of pleasure lingered in the air, creating a sense of vulnerability.
You let the silence fill the room as Luke slowly gained control of his heavy breaths, his body lying on top of you as he let out a deep sigh.
"I'm so sorry, babe..." he timidly mumbled into your skin, and you couldn't help but form a soft smile on your lips.
"It's okay, Luke," you tried to comfort him with a soft tone of voice, gently stroking your fingers through his hair before he lifted his head to look at you.
"No, it's not okay... you didn't get to come first, baby... you know I always want that," he whispered softly, his eyes darting from side to side as he kept apologising.
But you merely offered him another light chuckle and caressed his cheek. "Hey, it was your night tonight... after the thrill from the game, and how eager we both were, it makes sense it didn't take long."
“Still… I feel bad about not making you come…”
Once more, you just flashed him a soft smile.
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to do it again – you know what they say: practice makes perfect.”
And your words seemed to slowly reassure him as you both remained in the relaxed position, comforting each other while keeping your eyes locked onto his. Eventually, he accepted your words and withdrew himself from your embrace.
Though you had to admit feeling a little disappointed, having been so close to your peak, you were also okay with how Luke came to his release. He had made you feel good after all, and it truly brought you joy to please him.
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lucifermonsii · 5 months
Note
Just top jealous Ghost😭😭😭💕
Your wish is my command. Also I'm still currently writing all of the other requests it takes some time.
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M!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Going to the cafe with Simon to spend time together, while ordering the girl at the cashier kept hitting on you. Making Simon jealous as you got punished back at home.
Cw: mentions of dicks, cocks, length, bondage, overstimulation, vibrator, cockwarming, cum
Smut
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A shaky sigh escapes your quivering lips as you tried to stop the constant drooling from the corners of your mouth, trails of pearly white seed travels down your length and onto your stained stomach.
Breathing heavily as your chest rose up and down while you hung your head low, your wrists bound together by fluffy black cuffs. The vibrator taped around your dick hums aggressively against your sensitive prick as whimpers and pleas escapes your pretty lips.
"I- nghh.. m' sorry Simon plea- haa.."
You whimpered when he slightly shifts in his seat, making you take his fat cock deeper inside your tight hot hole. The way his dick was nestled deep inside of you and how his tip kisses your prostate oh so perfectly, making you see stars whenever he shifts as you cockwarm him. You squeeze around him when his finger tips trails your V line, making your flush furthens as if you weren't red enough..
Your face painted in a light tint of pink as blush spread to your neck and ears, beads of sweat trails down your body as it shines beneath the dim light of his lamp that sat on his desk. Your body exhausted from the overstimulation while he continues to type away on his computer as if you weren't whimpering on his dick.
"Should've walked away when the chick tried to shoot her shot huh?"
His voice rumbles through his chest as your back was pressed against his chest, your arched back against his fat pecs that acted like pillows as you rest the back of your head on your shoulder. Breathing heavily against his ear while you were on the brink of passing out.. maybe this wouldn't happen if you tried to get away from the chick..
Two hours ago you and Simon went to a cafe to spend some time together, Simon already ordered his drink and went away to go pick a seat as you ordered. Your eyes darts around the menu before you finally told your order to the girl that worked there, she seemed to be staring at you the whole time when you were trying to pick a drink. During that time she tried to struck a conversation, but you didn't respond. She got frustrated before keeping quiet, her eyes seems to wander all over your body, inspecting it as you began to feel uncomfortable.
"I'd like to have milk tea with cheese foam"
You said as you look at anywhere but her, clearly not liking the way she kept on staring at you with those eyes..
"Oh! Did you know I also like cheese foam? That's so crazy-"
She chuckled as she tries to keep you at the counter, Simon glaring at the corners of his eyes from the interaction as an ugly feeling of jealousy bubbled within him..
"Anyways- what's the total?"
You cut her off as you bawled your hand into fists from being so nervous, not because she was hitting on you, but because of Simon's hard gaze that pierces through your back like sharp knifes through the air.
"Like the total amount of attention I've been trying to hit on you"
"S- stop-"
You cringed at her before reading her name tag on her apron
"Sarah, you're just cringe. Stop it."
She gave you a dirty look before looking back at her cash register
"$24"
Coming back home from the cafe Simon taught you a lesson by overstimulating you with a vibrator and his fat cock deep inside of your tight hole.
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