#CHULO underwear

[yesjazzywazzylove-blog]

Petition to put this motherfucker in a CK ad.

ASAP.

*sounds of collective uterus' (and everything else) combusting"

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[noxturnalpascal]

Happy Ending [IV]

Masterlist (with all warnings)

A/N: tía - aunt, tío - uncle, primo - cousin, dios mío - my god, chulo - pimp, bonito - pretty (masculine), mala - bad, cariño - darling, guapo - handsome, mi amor - my love

🩷 🌅 🌴

He leans down and keeps his hands gripping your ass, picking you up and folding you over his right shoulder. As he carries you towards the back door of his villa he turns his face and lovingly nibbles at your outer thigh, where the slit on your dress has exposed your skin to him. He can hear your quiet laughter muffled into his back and can feel your arms roaming around his body, gabbing at his butt, thighs, stomach, and chest. Once inside he gently plops you down on his king-sized mattress and towers over you, taking in the sight of you.

He pulls your right foot against the center of his chest and unties your shoe, a nude-colored strappy thing, brushing off any sand left on it as he goes. He repeats the same treatment on your left leg as you pull the zipper down on the side of your dress. He watches you shimmy out of it, revealing soft, nude-colored underwear and a strapless bra. He sees your phone sticking out of your bra and smiles, reaching down to pull it out and setting it on the side table. He moves to lean over you and you put your foot back in the center of his chest, stopping him.

“Why are you still dressed? Gimme a show Panchito,” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes but obliges you, moving back to the foot of the bed and unbuttoning his shirt. You watch him, laying on your back, perched on your elbows, eyes roaming his body. Slower you command, and he unbuttons the last two buttons in slow motion. No, faster, you say louder, and he throws his head back in laughter, sliding the shirt off his tanned shoulders. He toes his shoes off as he undoes his fly, waggling his hips for you as he does, causing you to erupt with giggles. He lets his pants drop to the floor and he stands before you wearing only his underwear and socks. He puts his socked foot up on the edge of the bed to show you.

“Take those off,” you laugh. 

“You first,” he challenges.

The playfulness on your face slowly turns to desire. You sit up and reach your hands behind you, undoing your bra, and then you rip it off you, throwing it at him. He catches it but can’t take his eyes off you. He saw you in a bathing suit plenty of times but not since you were twenty, and even though he’s never seen you naked before he knows the scars, freckles, and wrinkles that dot your body now aren’t things he would have seen before. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“Get over here,” you order. 

He tugs his socks off quickly and then gets on the mattress, crawling across the bed to hover over you. Shit, he’s just realized he didn’t pack any condoms. This was the last thing he was expecting to happen this weekend.

“I don’t have-”

“It’s okay,” you answer the question he didn’t ask. 

You put your hand on his cheek, running it backward and scratching your nails through his hair. He leans in to kiss you, moaning into your mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist. You push on his shoulder and before he realizes what’s happening you’ve flipped him onto his back, on top of him now and straddling his hips. His hands immediately go to cup your breasts, palming the weight of them, thumbs caressing the soft underside of the roundness, and then joining the index finger in lightly pinching your nipples.

You throw your head back and groan, fuuuuuuuuuuck, put your palms down on his chest and begin to drag your core over his covered length. Holy shit you’re so fucking beautiful. He’s seen you with your eyes closed, chasing your own pleasure so many times… but it’s never been this hot. Goddamn you feel so fucking good. You’re pressing against him, rolling along his shaft, and he can feel a wetness in the fabric of his underwear - from you or himself he’s not sure. You’re breathing heavy and whimpering, the same noises he’s heard you make a thousand times. Fuck this is so- oh shit.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT, fuck, sh-,” he babbles as your movements above him stall. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, shit, I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Did you just?”

“I’m so-, fuck, I swear I’m better than this at sex, I just-... I-.”

You lean down and plant your mouth on his, effectively shutting him up. Oh god he feels like he might cry. You peck your lips all over his, cooing to him that it’s okay, brushing your fingers along his forehead and curling them in some of his hair. Your hips are lifted off his, sparing him the overstimulation, and he relishes the feeling of your warm chest pressed to his own. Once he stops trying to continuously apologize, you pull back and swing your legs off him, sliding to the edge of the bed and reaching for your dress.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

He immediately goes into a panic, worried he’s disappointed yet another person, not sure if he’ll be able to bear it this time. You turn your body back towards him, a slight sadness on your face.

“I don’t want you to feel-”

“Please stay,” he says at the same time, grabbing your hand in his, unconcerned with how desperate he sounds.

“-obligated,” you finish your sentence quietly.

“It’s not obligation, but you deserve better than that.”

“Frankie,” you say his real name, shit, “it’s okay, I promise. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Baby,” he sighs, the nickname slipping out. “You deserve good things too.”

You let him pull you back to the center of the bed, let him gently nudge your shoulders down to lie back, let him slowly peel your underwear down your legs. When he takes his place between your spread thighs he doesn’t even think about how you looked in your video. How could he? He’s got the woman of his dreams here in front of him in the flesh, and he’s finally - finally - going to taste you.

He takes a moment to admire you, noticing you have hair trimmed on your mound in a triangle shape while the rest of you is bare. He lies down on his belly, pushes his hands under you to wrap around your spread legs and begins kissing the insides of your thighs, each placement of his lips agonizingly closer to your sex. He can hear you whining but he can also see how badly you want this. He brings his mouth to your lips; puffy with a shine of arousal, probably sensitive from anticipation. He kisses you up one side and down the other, listening to your keening take on an even more elevated pitch. Christ, he can fucking smell how badly you want this.

He begins to softly touch his tongue along your seam, letting you cant your hips and guide his movements. He watches you shudder when he flattens his tongue against you, moving his head back and forth over your sensitive bud. Your legs spread wider and you reach both hands between them, grabbing fistfulls of his hair and already beginning to fall apart. 

He lets you press his face deeper - pliable and happy to lap at you greedily - following your guidance to resume an up and down motion over your clit. He sets a steady pace, lets you control the pressure, and carefully watches your face. Your eyes are scrunched closed and your head begins to nod as he hears your painting turn to yesyesyesyesyesyesyes. He reaches his right hand up to grab at your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple, sending you screaming over the edge of your orgasm.

He gently licks and kisses all around you, as you twitch and squeeze his head with your thighs, recovering from your peak. He trails his mouth up your abdomen and over your breasts, nuzzling their roundness with his nose and teasing over your nipples with his tongue. You groan in pleasure under him, slowly dragging your nails across his scalp. Moving up your body he sucks tenderly at your neck and then meets your mouth, sliding his tongue past your lips and giving you the sweet taste of yourself.

“That was…” you trail off.

“The next one’s gonna be even better.”

“So, you think this is gonna happen again, huh?” you tease.

“Baby,” he slides his hand down your body and cups your center. “It’s gonna happen right now.”

He watches your eyes go wide as he bypasses your sensitive nub and slowly slides a finger into your hot, wet clutch. You grab his face and pull it back to yours, mashing your lips to his and letting out a long, muffled moan. You’re so open and wet from your release that his finger moves easily, so he pulls his hand back and adds a second finger, pushing them smoothly inside. He hears you react, keening and writhing under him, just like he always dreamed about. His palm presses against your core, giving you indirect stimulation on your clit as he starts to curl his fingers inwards, pressing against your inner wall.

He increases his speed and pressure, making bigger movements with his hands in response to your heightening reactions. He watches your body, the way your muscles undulate beneath your skin as you clench your jaw, the way your hands claw at his sides, the way your legs kick and your body jolts. He hears your breath hitching, your lips babbling words, the wet sounds of your cunt filling the room. He slides a third finger in and you shove your face against his neck, crying out against him, your moist breaths rhythmically heating his skin. He continues to press the heel of his hand against your hooded bud, curling his fingers inside you while moving his arm up and down to press firmly against the spot inside of you that’s driving you wild.

“All right baby, all right baby,” he says against your temple. “Come on, now”

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”

“Just let go baby,” he coos. “Come on. Come on.”

You finally let go, throwing your head back on the pillow and biting back your moan until you begin to feel the change. Just as he expected, a stream of warm liquid leaves you, and he hears you gasping above him, shocked but lost in the movement of his hands, working to coax more out of you. Holy shit, holy shit, he hears you murmuring, continuing to leak out over his hand, soaking his high thread-count sheets. He thinks - technically they’re your sheets - so no harm done. He slows down the movements of his hand and lets you catch your breath, kissing the side of your face and showering you with praise.

“You did so good baby, what a good job you did,” he whispers, and hears you let out a strangled sob. “You did so good for me, you’re so beautiful, look at you. So good.”

“That- …That’s-” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “That’s never… never… happened to me before.”

“Did it feel good?”

“I think you know it did,” you pin him with a look. “Pancho Bonito.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him chest-to-chest, both of you opening your mouths and lazily exploring the other’s with your tongue. Your lips cover every inch of his face, your fingers brushing back the curls of hair that fell forward on his forehead. His tongue tastes every inch of your neck, thumbs swiping the tears that have spilled over the corners of your eyes. He rolls his body halfway on top of you and you pull your head back, looking shocked.

“What is going on down there, Mr. Morales?”

He chuckles. “That, my innocent little angel, is an erection. You see when a man and a woma-”

Your laughter interrupts him. “Yes, Francisco, I know what a boner is. But what are you - a forty one year old man who just came - doing with one?”

“I’ll tell you whose fault it is,” he leans his head down and envelops your nipple into his mouth, circles his tongue around the pebbled bud, and pulls his mouth off with a pop. “That gal right there.”

“My left tit?”

“Oh, not just her,” he says as he repeats the attention on your other breast. “They’re both guilty.”

You squeal as he flips you over to the drier side of the bed, moving to your ass and groping the rounded flesh in his hands. He leans down and bites one of your cheeks gently, smushing his nose against the swell and muttering this has been teasing me all night too into your damp skin. He slowly crawls up your body, placing more kisses and nips along your back as he goes, finding dimples and stretch marks and freckles to cast guilt upon as he goes, worshiping each before moving along to the next. 

When his head is just above yours, he presses himself down into you, sliding his cock along the crack of your ass, letting his pubic hair scratch at your soft skin. Your hair is still up - albeit far from the polished look you wore before- and he reaches down to brush the strands of loose hair off your neck and back from your face. He leans his face down and slowly rubs his trimmed stubble along your cheek, putting his mouth to your ear and giving it a lick with his tongue before touching his teeth to the lobe, carefully tugging it and eliciting more noises from you. 

“Those noises you make are the most guilty of them all,” he huffs in your ear. You respond with a whine. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this?” He licks the shell of your ear and kisses behind it. “Do you know how long I’ve been dreaming of you under me like this?”

He presses his hips down, into your backside harder, and he watches you turn your face and moan into the pillow. He grabs your hair in a firm but gentle grip and turns your face back to the side.

“Baby, no. Please don’t keep those noises quiet.”

He moves back to his knees and pulls your hips up, your knees between his and your ass lifted in the air. Both hands move to your ass again and he firmly grips each cheek, clenching his teeth in a snarl.

“You better relax back there Panchito, or you’re gonna have another mess in your pants.”

Mala, he tuts as he slaps a hand on one of your cheeks, garnering a yelp and a chuckle from you. He soothes his hand over the mark and he watches goosebumps roll across your back.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he praises, maneuvering his sticky, come-filled underwear over his hips and down his legs, pulling them carefully off one leg and then the other. He takes his dick in his hand, lazily pumping it, staring at you open and exposed in front of him. You turn your face and it catches his eye, both of you making eye contact before he watches your eyes trail down his body and land on his cock. Your eyes get bigger and your face relaxes, your lips part and you huff out a breath.

“Jesus, fuck,” you groan. “Why is it so perfect?”

Your reaction has Frankie chuckling, but bury your face back in the pillow. He reaches forward with one hand and grips your hips, his other hand bringing his tip to notch at your entrance. He hears you moaning again into the pillow so he lightly slaps your ass in the same spot, and you turn your head to let him hear the end of it.

“You want this?”

“Yes. Frankie-,” you whine. “My Pancho… yes.”

Frankie pushes himself into your warmth, both of you making sounds of relief. Holy shit you feel so good. His hands gripping your hips, he thrusts slowly and shallowly, gradually working himself in. You’re still plenty lubricated but Frankie’s been told his dick is on the larger side of average, so he knows he has to ease his way in so the stretch isn’t overwhelming. He finally fits it all in, his pelvis coming to rest flush against your backside. He pauses and lets you adjust, noting your approval of his methods when he hears you simpering ohmygod it’s so big, fuuuuck.

You reach a hand back and put it over one of his hands on your hips and squeeze it, a signal for him to move. Steadily, he pulls out and pushes into you, listening to you, watching you, following your unspoken cues that he’s doing what you like. He wants to make sure you’re not in any discomfort, he wants you to feel as good as he does, he wants to give you everything he has. He begins to snap his hips harder, pressing deep into you, and you cry out. For half a second he’s worried that he hurt you but then he feels your hand snake between both of your legs and cup his balls, urging him on.

He snaps his hips shallowly, letting you tug on his balls, listening to the pounding sounds of you whimpering, hearing you getting wetter, and he’s grunting and growling above you, fingers digging bruises into the flesh at your hips. So fucking good he hears you keen and he knows he’s close, he hopes you are too. But he doesn’t want it like this, not for the first time. He stops his movements and pulls out, earning a loud nooo from you. He gently turns you over and moves between your spread thighs, pushing them apart and back into your chest.

“I need to see you,” he leans down and kisses you. “Need to see you come on my cock, baby.”

He slides his dick back in and you both cry out, resuming his pace as he snaps his hips into you. He’s pushing down on the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees back into your chest, and you bring your arms around them to hold them tight to you. This is the best sex he’s ever had. He leans over you and kisses wherever he can reach, feels his muscles burning with exertion, feels sweat dripping down his back, feels the clutch of your pussy gripping him tight. He slams himself deep into you, grinding himself onto your pussy, stimulating your clit with every thrust.

“Fuck, Frankie, fuck. I-, oh my god, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-.”

“That’s it baby, yes baby,” he encourages as he feels your pussy clamp and throb around him.

He leans back and watches you come undone again, continuing to fuck up into you even as you begin to squirt again, the liquid pouring out around his cock and spraying onto both of your legs. He slides his thumb up and down over your clit and watches another wave hit you, gasping and dripping and clenching. You’re so beautiful like this. He needs to come. He pumps himself into you again, hard, chasing his release. He hears you begging him to give it to you, to come inside you. Frankie can’t wait one more second. He manages to get a few more deep thrusts in before he stills, grunting loudly, his cock pulsing, rope after rope of his come painting your walls. He keeps groaning above you as he finishes coming, pulling out of you slowly, tapping himself down on your clit to watch you shiver beneath him, and looking at his spend slowly leaking out of you.

“You were right,” you exhale.

“I know,” he quips. “About what?”

You chuckle tiredly. Panchito. “You were right about being better at sex than that.”

He huffs a laugh in response as you both crawl out of bed, standing on shaky legs. You check your phone and then motion for him to follow you outside. 

---

Standing under the hot water of the outdoor shower, you both lean against each other for support, letting the warm water run rivulets down your sweat and come-soaked bodies. His hands roam over you, caressing and massaging all of the skin he touches. He kisses the top of your head and hears you sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admits.

“Who, me?”

“No cariño, the other woman I just had mind-blowing sex with,” he teases as he pinches your ass.

You laugh. “What do you mean? Whatcha been thinkin’ about?”

“Well sometimes when I’m at the lowest points in my life I like to look back on some of the high points.” 

He’s thinking that he’s glad he doesn’t have to look you in the face when he says this but then you pull back and make him look at you, your big eyes looking straight into his soul.

“I’m a high point?”

“Oh, baby…” he pulls you back to his chest so he doesn’t get lost in your gaze. He lets a long pause go by, just the sounds of the water falling, the rhythmic waves against the shore, the breeze blowing through the trees, and your shared breaths. “I was basically in love with you back then.” Another long pause goes by and you groan into his chest.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he shrugs.

You push back from him, separating your torsos but keeping his arms around you. You look wrecked.

“All I ever wanted to do was ruin our friendship,” you whine.

“What?”

“Pancho, I was fucking crazy about you, are you kidding me?”

“You-,” What? “No,” no, that can’t be. “But you were-,” way too good for him. “Since when?”

“Um, since the moment I tapped you on the shoulder and asked you to dance,” you say as if it's obvious.

“No, nonono, you told me your friend wanted to dance with me.” 

“Yeah I lied… I was the fuckin’ friend.”

“I-,” whatthefuck, “why didn’t you say anything?” Now he’s sure that he looks wrecked.

“I don’t know,” you say, worrying your teeth on your lower lip. “I’ve thought about that a lot over the years, even more over the last week,” you take a deep breath and exhale, tucking your face into his neck, kissing at the water droplets dripping down his skin there. “I thought you wouldn’t want someone like me, wouldn’t want to take home a girl like me to your mother. I’m not sure if it was immaturity or insecurity or a combination of the two.” He squeezes you tighter.

Not want ‘a girl like you’? You’re all he’s ever wanted. What difference would ‘a girl like you’ have made in his life? Maybe all the shit he’s still slogging through wouldn’t have even existed.

Eventually you let go of each other and stand next to each other beneath the twin shower heads. He leans his head forward, letting the water push his long hair over his forehead, dripping into his eyes and obscuring his view of you, which he can’t stop admiring. You take your hair down and hold your whole body under the rainfall showerhead, rubbing your hands along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your arms. He watches you touch the path his mouth took along your body, tracing over your pebbled buds, dipping your fingers into your folds, sliding your palms over your ass. He watches the cascading water wash away any remaining traces of makeup, and sand, and Frankie.

When you come back in the room he immediately notices the bed is remade and all the clothes you stripped off each other are gone. What the fuck? He stops just inside the door and points, but before he can ask outloud you grab his hand and mumble Kiki, then pull him onto the fresh sheets with you.

“Still want me to stay?”

“Of course I do,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, pulling your warm, smooth body against his front.

[melodymanny]

With the fabulous Lee Soulja-Simmons @leesoulja At CHULO Underwear presents SEX(UAL)HEALING, a NYFW Fundraiser for the Sex Workers Project #chulounderwear #fashionweek #fashionshow #lifeoftym #gaymoviestar #lgbtactivist #tymmoss #nycentertainers @tymmoss (at HUSH HK) https://www.instagram.com/p/CovPHa9uMLa/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[markusbrehmphoto]

Chulo Underwear Photoshoot

Model Jay Aubrey

[menandunderwear]

Have a look at our feature with Spanish models, Alejandro Sarmiento (photo) and Elso Matos, photographed by Markus Brehm in Gran Canaria posing in underwear by Chulo and Addicted. See more: http://www.menandunderwear.com/2018/07/alejandro-sarmiento-and-elso-matos-photographed-by-markus-brehm.html

[erenoir]

# ride it, my pony ! ★ ☆ tokyo revengers stripper!au

💌 request ::: hey fae ever wonder what stripper mitsuya/chifuyu/hakkai/ran would be like 🤔🤔

✞ welcome to club manji… did you wanna book a private room with one of our dancers? here’s who’s on tonight ::: mitsuya, chifuyu, hakkai, ran.

✞ word count ::: 2.6k

✞ tagging ::: @bajikou @ryugamii @shdwgarden eat up!! thank u for encouraging me to write + post this!! xx

# TAKASHI "BAMBI" MITSUYA

💿 song he dances to ::: [the hills,, the weeknd]

“Light on his feet and sweeter than sweet! Please welcome to the stage… Bambi!”

Takashi Mitsuya, also known as “Bambi.” He keeps his outfits simple when he performs, because his moves speak for themselves. He’s confident that he can rake in enough cash sans the flashy garments and accessories. Dressed in a pair of low cut, baggy jeans, a white tank top and purple suspenders to match his dollish lavender hair… he’s the most charming little package. It’s his humble demeanor that makes him a club favorite, the way he casually graces the stage, white sneakers gliding across the glossy surface, and his cheeky smile to top it off… that's what makes customers drool for him.

He knows the power he holds in the club space, the nights that Taka-chan, well, at least that's what he lets his top-paying clients call him, is set to perform, the other dancers have to work extra hard to get an ounce of the limelight. But it's so hard to hate him, he’s just too damn nice, he pays out the most at the end of the night and yet his head doesn’t inflate and his ego stays manageable. The reckless women love him, the sweetest sense of innocence and maturity he exudes makes them feel stable. He dances under the purple lights, the glitter embedded into the stage reflecting off the lenses of the slick, black glasses that always top his nose. If you tip him well enough he might let you snap a picture of yourself in them.

Rarely does the club’s beloved Bambi lose his cool… All he does is exude cool. The way his hips grind into the floor, wrapping a finger around the chains that hang off his neck, peeling off his tank top to reveal his abs glistening with sweat, he knew exactly what he was doing at all times. That was until you walked into the club, and his suspenders snapped, and his glasses flung off of his face and into the crowd of ogling women.

You paraded into the lounge, unphased by the hordes of near-naked men throwing themselves at you trying to give you a solo dance, and took a seat right in front of his stage. With a raise of your finger the manager was at your side, leaning down so you could whisper something into his ear, while never breaking eye contact with him. Mitsuya watched as his boss nodded his head frantically, heading to the back where the club held their private dances, but not before glaring at the lavender-haired boy on the stage and giving him a knowing look. Oh, so you wanted him one-on-one, he realized, and for the first time in a while, Mitsuya actually felt nervous to dance for a client.

“Hey!” His head jolted to the sound of a voice towering above the heavy bass and loud chatter, smirking as he watched you toss a stack of hundreds onto the stage, “Are you gonna dance for me Bambi or what?”

And with your words the dancer remembered who he was, he was Takashi fucking Mitsuya, and this was his club, and he was going to strip for you. His hand skimmed the floor as he lifted your cash between his middle and ring fingers and palmed the sweat off of his forehead. You adjusted yourself in the velvet loveseat, watching his sneakers hit the floor below you as he jumped off the stage. His nimble fingers stuffed the money into the waistband of his underwear, Mitsuya reached a hand out to you, beckoning you to take it and flashing you his pearly whites in the process. How typical of him.

“You have me for an hour… I'm gonna take care of you, okay?”

# CHIFUYU "SU NOVIO" MATSUNO

💿 song he dances to ::: [papi chulo,, octavian + skepta]

“You can take him home to your parents! Please welcome to the stage… Su Novio!”

Chifuyu Matsuno, also known as “Novio.” He’s nothing short of cheeky and knows his way around a set of words. Sweet talking is just as important as the dancing for him, no one else can talk up a client the way Chifuyu can. Unlike his club counterparts, he’s a fan of all things gaudy, over the top, and absolutely corny. Often the one to use classic tear-away pants, he puts on a show with his moves and his personality, ripping the fabric off of his body to reveal the tiny briefs that barely held his package in.

Although the other dancers like to make fun of him for the firefighter costumes and plastic handcuffs, he’s only second to Bambi when it comes to earnings. Rich mothers off-duty love Chifuyu, and when women don’t want to spend their money on their husbands that barely put in any work, they spend it on their favorite dancer, their boyfriend after-dark, Novio.

Chifuyu saunters around the club in nothing but underwear and a cheap cop’s hat most nights, and most nights he’s getting pulled for private rooms. No one rakes in stacks on the weekdays like Novio, where else are moms going to go to hide from both their kids and their husbands? His black hair falling into his eyes as he got up close to their faces, noses grazing and hips bumping to the beat, he put on a show, and this wasn’t some school musical this was a mother’s guilty pleasure at its finest, it was Chifuyu “Novio” Matsuno.

It was your first time at this club, let alone a strip club at all. You and the rest of the girls had just finished baking brownies for the kids’ bake sale and of course, like the pushover you are, you agreed to tag along after a successful four batches of sweets. They had told you about this famous “Novio,” how he was dangerous, once you got a taste you’d be back every week for more.

How you went from laughing uncomfortably in the corner to tucked away in a dark room with Chifuyu grinding his hips into your ass you couldn’t quite say… but your husband had pissed you off enough times this week for you to give less of a crap. He was dancing circles around you, pulling your body into different positions so he could hump you into oblivion, taking your hands in his and running them down his chest, he was determined to make you forget all about your husband. It was when he laid your body back on the sofa and climbed on top of you, thrusting his hips into your crotch that you broke.

“Shit,” you whimpered, the only thing preventing his dick from touching the bare skin of your thighs was the thin cotton of his underwear. You reached your hands to his face, just to get a feel of that lush, dark hair of his, only for them to be swatted away by his and bound together in his handcuffs from the party store.

“Ah ah, no touching,” he teased as your cheeks burned up, “I’ll tell you when you can touch me.”

You still had 40 minutes left in the room with him.

# HAKKAI "PRETTY BOY" SHIBA

💿 song he dances to ::: [crew,, goldlink]

“He’s just cute enough to eat! Here he is… your Pretty Boy!”

Hakkai Shiba, also known as “Pretty Boy.” The other dancers in the club like to place bets on who can make Pretty Boy cry first, if anything, his tears are what earn him his check. Women love a guy who's in touch with his emotions, right? The more Pretty Boy cries, the more money the club rakes in.

Army pants low on his hips, a stainless steel dog tag with his initials swinging around his neck as he moves across the stage, and his bright blue buzzcut glowing under the fluorescent lights of the club, the youngest dancer at the club has the young clients smitten. Hakkai is tall, his lanky body soft against the dresses of the women he grinds into every night. He’s got the face of an angel but the moves of a devil.

He lures you in, puppy dog eyes burning bright, maybe he’ll shed a tear or two, spill his deepest secrets, crying until he has customers saying, “Oh… you poor, poor baby!” Bingo, he stuffs 200 into the waistband of his underwear. He asks for a hug, another 100. “Thank you so, so much miss…” He whispers with a vulnerable crack of his voice, another 100. The club managers have trained Hakkai to be their coveted little cry baby, using his sensitive state to their advantage. He’s the emotional, soft boy that makes hearts swoon and wallets empty.

You watched as he made his rounds, greeting clients at the bar and giving short lap dances to those who wanted to pay. His arm draped off the shoulder of one of his usuals, smiling down at her as she slipped a 50 into his waistband with her red fingernails. Hakkai’s eyes scanned the bar top, analyzing every face, taking note of which ones he knew and which ones he didn’t. He grinned sweetly, cheeks scrunching up and his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck timidly as he made eye contact with the regulars.

Then he made eye contact with you... his favorite customer. You sunk back another shot, the vodka burning the back of your throat when you felt a hand graze the small of your back. Being met with a pair of steel blue eyes made your stomach curl, you’d been watching your pretty dancer like a hawk the whole night and he finally made his way to you.

“Hey you,” He greets you shyly, his cheeks blossoming into a rosy pink as you match his docile gaze with your dominant one. While he awaits your response, he holds up two fingers to the bartender, ordering another round of shots for the two of you. His chest rises as he inhales sharply, leaning on the counter as he leans in closer to you so he can hear you better.

“You know I missed you Pretty Boy… all of those hundreds and you haven’t paid me a single ounce of attention all night!” Your bottom lip jutted out and your eyebrows dipped into a frown of disapproval, though you couldn’t keep the act up with your Hakkai for that long and he knew that.

“C’mon, you know I’d never ignore my favorite girl like that,” he whispers so only you can hear, locking his arm around yours as you two downed the liquid in the tiny, crystal cups. You felt the eyes of the line of women Hakkai had just given lap dances to burn a hole in the back of your neck, he always gave you preferential treatment, he never took shots with any of his other customers. But you were something special, maybe it was the size of your wallet, but nobody handled Pretty Boy’s tears better than you did.

“Good Hakkai, you know I don’t like it when you ignore me,” you mewled into his ear, his gold earring grazing the tip of your nose.

“Never… come on… let me give you a dance… on the house.”

# RAN "HADES" HAITANI

💿 song he dances to ::: [same ol’ mistakes,, rihanna]

“He’s the devil in disguise! Please welcome to the stage… Hades!”

Ran “Hades” Haitani. He looked like a god himself, features chiseled and sculpted from smooth stone, there was nothing he could do that customers wouldn’t like. Though he doesn’t rake in the most money night after night, he is a dancer that customers ask about constantly. He’s a dark horse, he arrives at the club as quickly as he goes and people loved that they didn’t know much about him. Some wondered if he even truly liked his job as a dancer, his stoic demeanor not revealing much about him, the way he nonchalantly graced the room with his presence, you wouldn’t think he’s exactly loving the time he spends at the club.

Ran is well aware of the hold he has on people without overtly showing it, which makes women chase after him more. Ran’s clients tend to be the bubbly type, giddy and eager to see which of them could get him to break first. They ogle after him, craving the club’s bad boy, with his braids hanging over his sweaty shoulders, and a velvet choker clasped around his neck.

They watched him from afar, plotting their next moves strategically, one night with Ran in a private room meant everything. Those who went in left with their hair a mess and their clothes tousled, those who went in craved a taste of the unexpected. The quiet dancer, the one who lurked in the shadows of the club, the one who dominated a dimly lit stage, those who pursued Hades didn’t know what the hell they were going to get from the mystery man and that's exactly why he gets booked for the most private rooms.

You just happened to be one of the suckers that fell into the deep pit that Hades had opened for you. It was the most wild dance you’d ever gotten, and as Ran left the room with a couple hundred under the waistband of his underwear, you had a moment to replay every second of it in your head as you laid on the couch out of breath and a disgruntled mess.

“You’ve got a safe word?” He mumbled to you as he pulled his belt from the loops of his black cargo pants, you didn’t know what to say, or why you would even need a safe word for a dance at a strip club.

“I’ve… never had one,” you answered, watching curiously as he brings your hands behind your back and fastens them with the black leather.

“Well your safe word is dark now,” Ran assigns you one himself, tapping twice on the door, signaling the staff to begin the music. He knelt down to get eye level with you, his breath tickling your lips softly as he drags a finger from your temple to the tip of your chin, nudging your eyes to meet his, “Just watch.”

Ran’s feet took him around your body, his hands sliding across your waist before he pushed you face down on the couch. You groaned as his hands flipped your skirt over your ass, grinding his hips down into the soft skin before flipping you over and moving his crotch up to your face. So this is what you’d been missing, the chains from his pants tickled your nose as he slowly thrusted down onto you. Your hands struggled at the restraints and though you wanted to utter that small word Ran had set in place for you, you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t say it when his tongue trailed up your neck, or when his hands slid under your shirt to grab at your breasts. Especially not when he grabbed your hair and yanked you back to meet his chest, allowing you to sway your hips back onto his clothed cock, gaining the pleasure of hearing the sacred hymns of Hades sound off in your ear.

“Dark” was just not in your vocabulary tonight, no matter how much he threw you around, you didn’t whisper it once, and Ran liked that about you. So he was sure to see you back another night, giving you a list of all the times the wandering dancer inhabited the club, just for you.

“Normally people tap out after ten minutes… I like you.”

© 2021 mitsery - do not repost my work to any other platforms

[butwhyduh]

Pretty much no spoiler Moon knight review:

The first time I saw Marc, my mind instantly said ‘ay yo Papi chulo’. Yes even in that outfit

And in E2??When he’s sitting in his underwear🤌

[noxturnalpascal]

Happy Ending [II]

Masterlist (with all warnings)

A/N: tía - aunt, tío - uncle, primo - cousin, dios mío - my god, chulo - pimp, bonito - pretty (masculine), mala - bad, cariño - darling, guapo - handsome, mi amor - my love

🩷 🌅 🌴

The next morning he lets himself sleep late - nearly 10am - but gives himself plenty of time to shower and wrangle his hair so he’s presentable for the 2pm beachfront service. He uses the outdoor rainfall shower, enjoying the sounds of the waves and the breeze blowing through the palm fronds. He heads into the closet, drops the towel on the bathroom floor and throws on a pair of boxer-briefs. He goes to grab the suit he hastily hung up while unpacking yesterday and a panic grips him when he realizes it’s not there. 

He turns around three full times, checking and rechecking the empty closet, and begins to immediately sweat, wondering where the fuck it could have gone to when he hears a knock at the main door. He’s wondering what to do and who to call and when he pulls the door open he’s hit with a wave of relief as he sees Kiki standing there holding his suit out in front of her.

“Oh thank god, I was just looking for-,” he pauses and points at his suit. “Wait, how did you get my suit?”

“When I came to the room for turn-down service last night I noticed this suit hanging in your closet. It was covered in wrinkles and it smelled like…” she’s tactful enough not to finish her sentence. “So I just assumed you wanted it cleaned and pressed.”

Frankie suddenly realizes he’s standing there in only his underwear so he grabs the hanger from her hands and holds it against him, offering himself a small amount of modesty.

“Thank you, Kiki,” he mumbles, shutting the door quickly.

The service is beautiful but hot, sitting on the beach in the glaring afternoon sun. He didn’t think to bring any sunglasses, the hat that rarely leaves his head usually providing enough shade. It’s all he can do to focus on the bride and groom and shit, he thinks he’s gonna get a headache from squinting so much. He’s sitting next to his mother and notices she’s sniffling the whole time, getting misty-eyed at the sight of Elio marrying his love. She’s probably thinking about how she’ll never get to see her own son’s wedding since Frankie has spent the last decade finding new and exciting ways to blow up his whole life.

As the ceremony comes to a close he tells his mamá he’ll see her at dinner, and manages to duck away and get off the beach before the couple comes down the aisle and the crowd closes in. He feels a little bad sneaking away and being antisocial but he can’t handle the onslaught of well-wishers descending on the couple. He never does well in crowds like that anymore. 

He takes a walk down the beach during cocktail hour, setting an alarm on his watch with plans to head back to the reception building just as dinner starts. He’s taken off his dress shoes and socks, letting his feet sink into the wet sand where the waves just lick at them, cooling him off. He’s also enjoying the warm, salty breeze as it soothes the beads of sweat collected on his forehead. He hears a melodic sound travel across the sand. Holy shit, that sounds like your laugh. 

He looks around, seeing some couples obviously dressed up enough to be from a wedding, maybe the one he was at, maybe the one he saw set up further down the beach near his villa. He looks at their faces as they pass by him. None of them are you. He puts his hand to his forehead, shading his eyes to look behind him, towards the building where the reception will be. 

There’s a large wooden patio off the back of the white stucco building, sliding glass doors separating the outside from the inside. Bistro lights zig back and forth above the crowd of people already gathered there, drinks and small plates in hands, and floral arrangements cover every square inch of the railing, spilling over the sides and draping themselves towards the sand. He scans the faces in the crowd but between the distance and the brightness, it’s hard to see. 

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t see you among the crowd. But he wouldn’t, would he… because this is just his mind fucking with him. You’re not here, why would you be here, on Paradise Cay?

But shit, did that sound like your laugh.

---

The fit of giggles you would become lost in when a movie night went too late. You called them your 2am crazies and you’d laugh yourself hoarse, then beg him to let you stay the night. Even though he barely got any sleep those nights, too warm with you cuddled up against him in his small bed, he never denied you.

The screaming laughter you’d let out when he would start to rock the car of the ferris wheel at the top of the rotation. You’d tell him you were going to be brave when you got on the ride, sitting a fair distance from him, yet still gripping the safety bar as tight as possible. A couple rocks was all it would take for you to give up the pretense of courage and throw your arms around his middle, just like he wanted.

Your nervous laughter as you told him about the job offer you got. You told him how some of the girls at the call center were leaving for new jobs and then, days later, you finally told him what the job was.

“They’re gonna be making movies,” you admit.

“What kind of movies?” he asks, innocently, until you pin him with a look like he should already know what kind of movies your sex phone-line coworkers would be doing. “Like porn?”

“Yeah, kinda,” you tell him.

You told him there was a new website that was paying girls $20 for pictures or $500 for videos, and for a cut there was a guy who would photograph or record you and then upload them to the site. Frankie wants to ask how you could even think about making porn. He wants to ask if you know what they do to the girls in porn videos. He’s seen enough of them to know that you deserve to be treated better than they get treated. He wants to give you all the money in his bank account so you don’t have to do this to yourself, subject your body to this. 

You’re sitting across from him awaiting his response. You see the look he doesn’t even realize he’s wearing on his face and he watches your expression fall.

“You don't like it,” you mumble, looking absolutely dejected.

“No! I just-,” he’s fucking terrified for you. How are you not terrified? “I’m just… worried. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt, Pancho,” you grab his hand. Are you reassuring him right now?

You tell him that you don’t plan on making a video with another person just yet, that the $500 is for a solo video, just you and the cameraman, recording you touching yourself. You laugh again, nervous. It’s gonna be okay you keep telling him, maybe telling yourself too.

“A website?” he repeats.

“Yup,” you say, popping the p. “The world wide web.”

“I thought the web was just for downloading music and getting research materials from the library,” he half-jokes.

“It’s still gonna be all that... there’s just also gonna be naked pictures of me on it,” you laugh. Nervously.

Two weeks later on a Friday afternoon he picks you up and drives you to a small building in a not-great neighborhood on the north side of the city for your filming time. Your nervous laughter is back. You’re unusually quiet, and keep joking that you should have smoked or something to calm your nerves. He wondered before how you weren’t terrified and now he sees that you are, you’re just trying your best to appear brave. You can’t come in, you'd already told him. The photographer had explicitly explained to you that you could bring girlfriends but absolutely no boyfriends. 

“But, I’m not your boyfriend,” Frankie says as he holds your hand in the front seat, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The truck idles in the parking lot as rain drizzles down on the windshield. 

“I’m not sure they’re gonna make the distinction when you roll up there with those big, broad shoulders and these angry brown eyes.”

“My eyes are not angry,” he says in defense.

“Then what is this?” you tease as you poke at the wrinkle set between his furrowed brow.

He waits in the parking lot for an agonizing fifty four minutes, watching the rain clouds clear and the sun come out, before you come out of the building, eyes a little glassy and trembling slightly. He jumps out of the car and helps you into the passenger seat, driving you both to a taco bell and buying you meximelts until the color returns to your face. How was it? How do you feel? Are you okay? You tell him it was awkward but everything was fine, and show him the $500 cash you made.

It takes you almost a week to admit that the cameraman gave you a pill he said would calm your nerves and it made you feel funny the rest of the day. He almost jumps out of his skin but you assure him that nothing happened and that you can take care of yourself. You also promise him you don’t plan on taking any more pills from strangers.

You get asked to do another video. You’d make $850 this time, recording a video with a guy named Rock Hardson. Frankie groans but tries not to let his jealousy come out. He’s not your boyfriend. You don’t belong to him. You weren’t a virgin when you met him and you have every right to use your body to make yourself some much-needed money.

It goes like that for a few more months, him driving you to the little building with the dirty parking lot every 3-4 weeks, waiting outside while you go in and make your money, then taking you to eat afterwards. Always asking if you’re okay, if you feel alright, if they treated you well.

Spring break comes around in early April and you have enough money to go on a trip with a couple of your high school girlfriends and their boyfriends to Miami. You shyly ask if Frankie will come with you even though he’s not your boyfriend so you don’t have to feel like a fifth wheel. He almost bites his tongue off with how quickly he says yes.

He holds your hand the whole flight, talking you out of a panic attack during takeoff, just now realizing how terrified you are of flying. He’s never seen you this scared of anything. He wants to tease you but instead he distracts you by handing you his discman and letting you listen to your Celine Dion album for the short flight, hearing you humming the ubiquitous Titanic theme song. 

The week goes by too quickly, filled with salty, sunscreen-slathered afternoons on the beach and cigarette-infused, drunken nights in the club. Your last night there you finally convince him to dance with you, both of you too wasted to keep rhythm, clumsily bumping your bodies against each other for several songs. He feels your smooth skin under his hands, your fingers twisting in his hair. How badly he wanted to kiss you, his inebriated state almost granting him the courage.

You both fall into the bed you’d been sharing all week but tonight your friend in the bed next to you is drunk enough that she’s agreed to let her boyfriend have sex with her even with everyone else in the room. You and Frankie giggle to each other and you hear laughter coming from the fold-out couch on your other side, where your other friend lies with her boyfriend. 

Then, you both hear those laughs turn to breathy moans as well. You lie face up next to each other in the bed, smack in the middle of the two fornicating couples, the tension and awkwardness growing. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been making his dick so hard it hurt. He was so scared you were going to see the tented sheets over his erection and be appalled by his behavior. He’s supposed to just be your friend. A friend doesn’t get a hard-on laying in bed next to his friend.

You grab his hand and he almost jumps out of the bed. His head is spinning, both because of the alcohol and the situation unfolding. He thinks you’re looking at him, he thinks he can see it out of the corner of his eye, but he can’t look at you. He’s afraid of what he might see on your face, just as afraid he might see your friend on the bed next to you getting railed by her boyfriend. The room is filled with the sounds of sex; low grunts and the slap of skin on skin. 

“I bet you’re used to this,” he whispers, trying to ease the tension with a joke.

You let go of his hand.

His stomach sinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have-

“I’m too fucked up for this shit,” you mutter, rolling over and going to sleep.

When you get back from Miami you tell him that you’re going to quit, your school bill is paid off and you don’t want to make any more videos, and he won’t have to drive you anymore. For a few days he’s worried that he fucked up so badly on vacation that your friendship has changed, but when you call him for laundry day on Sunday everything seems fine, your friendship seems like how it used to be. 

---

His watch beeps, letting him know he’s been reminiscing for over an hour and it’s time for him to get back for dinner. He puts his shoes back on and makes it to his table just as a glass is being clinked for the champagne toast. He looks at the table setting in front of him and sees a small bottle of sparkling water next to an empty champagne flute. His mother must have made sure that was done for him. She’s so thoughtful. He’s lucky to have her, even after all the ways he’s disappointed her, still by his side rooting for his sobriety. 

Although if he’s being honest, he could really use some champagne right about now. All this sappy love bullshit is making it feel like a fist is clenching around his heart. He’s happy for Elio, of course, but goddamnit is he fuckin’ lonely. He’s not sure if the near-constant thoughts of you are a cause of or a product of his loneliness. It doesn’t really matter either way, the end result is the same. He’s here and you’re not.

After a delicious meal, he’d gotten the crab-stuffed-fish, his mother leaves the table to dance with two of his aunts, encouraging him to find someone to dance with as she goes, pointing around the room. He doesn't even look up as he says “I can’t dance, mamá .”

He’s immediately wrapped up in thoughts of you again.

---

You came to his graduation, standing next to him while his family snapped photos of the two of you, even stealing his mortarboard and putting it on your own head for a few pictures towards the end. He’d gotten his post-graduation assignment, he was going to a base in Germany, but first he’d be headed to Texas for six months of training. He was scheduled to leave in July, just after the holiday.

You spent the nine weeks of summer you had together alternating visiting the other. You’d borrow your mom’s minivan for the weekend and cross the state line to come to him. You’d spend your days together going to the mall, grabbing sbarro for lunch in the food court, and sneaking into the cine-plex. His friends from high school would let you in through a side door and you'd go between theaters, watching movies all afternoon, then help his mamá make dinner at night. He'd give you his bed and go sleep on the futon in his abuela’s room. 

Alternately, he’d drive his worn-out Ranger to you, and you’d take him with you to watch your little brother’s baseball games, grabbing pretzels and a frozen yogurt at your mall afterwards. Your mother felt guilty making him sleep on the couch in her cramped apartment's small living room, so you easily convinced her to let him sleep on your bedroom floor.

You’d toss a pillow at him and he’d get comfortable under a blanket as your mom poked her head in to say goodnight. As soon as the lights were off and everyone was in bed you’d whisper for him to get up here, and he’d join you on your full-size mattress, holding you close. His mamá called you his girlfriend when she talked about you, but you’d still never even so much as kissed each other. You called him your best friend and that was enough for him. Getting to hold you and have you confide in him and be the person to make you smile was more than enough.

You spent your birthday in mid-June together, camping in the bed of his truck under the stars. You’d spent all day at the amusement park nearby, some of your friends joining you for the day. He’d held your hand on the roller coasters and let you feed him spoonfuls of dippin dots ice cream. He pressed his face against the top of your head as you both headed to the campsite in the evening, drained from a long day of walking, screaming, and being in the sun.

He lit a fire in the campsite’s ring and covered you in blankets where you perched on his tailgate, drinking cheap beer and ringing in your 20th year, roasting hot dogs and watching as the flames got lower and lower, until the fire was nothing more than glowing embers. You laid down under shared blankets to sleep, limbs tangled together for warmth, and scratched your fingers through his hair while you fell asleep. He knew then he was probably in love with you. But he wasn’t going to ruin your friendship by ever telling you that.

And then the day came that he was scheduled to get on a bus to leave for Texas. He kissed and hugged his mamá, shook hands with his pop, and then turned to you. You’d driven all night to be there for his 5am bus out of town, and your face was already streaked with tears. He pulled you close and you held him so tight, he doesn't know where he found the strength to let you go. Neither of you could bring yourselves to say the word goodbye and before his stinging eyes could spill tears over his waterline he pulled away. He felt you shove something in his pocket, sniffling as you wiped your face with your shirtsleeves.

He waited untill he got on the bus to slip what you’d snuck in there out of his pocket. He thought it was going to be a note but it was a CD. For my Pancho, you’d written on the disc in Sharpie. He knew he must look so dumb with the goofy grin he had plastered on his face. You’d made him a mix tape. He was so excited to listen to it that he fished his discman out of his bookbag and pressed the CD in. It spun up, read 00:00, and spun down. It wouldn’t play the music. He’d have to wait till he arrived on base and could put it into a better stereo.

Between the long drive, the haircuts, the room assignments, the introductions, one awkward phone call with you, and getting a ton of homework from his classes right away, he doesn’t get a chance to even think about the CD again until a week later. It doesn’t work again in his neighbor’s stereo, but he thinks maybe you put the music in a different format so you could fit more songs on the disc. He heads across the base to the technology lab on his next day off and his hunch is confirmed when the computer opens up the disc’s contents in a folder, revealing a video file. He double clicks the file and watches the monitor as it opens up in Windows Media Player.

A low resolution image comes across his screen and because he’s never seen it before, it takes him a moment to comprehend what he’s looking at. It’s you. You’re standing in front of the camera, a warm afternoon light spilling in from the window you must be facing, highlighting your face, shining on your dewy lips, your chin, your neck, your tits. Holy fuck you’re topless. He clicks pause and looks around, making sure no one else can see his screen, then presses play again. As the video continues the camera keeps panning out, and reveals you to be totally naked. 

Holy shit this must be one of your videos. You’d talked about them before of course, the two of you talked about everything. You’d told him things you liked, things you didn’t, even awkward things that would happen during filming. You’d never tried to show him one of your videos and he would never be bold enough to ask. He knew you’d shown a couple friends, overhearing you discussing it one time, but he didn’t want you to feel objectified, so he said nothing.

A group comes into the computer lab and sits down nearby, checking their email. He can't keep watching this in here. There’s a crowd and he’s already half-hard in his pants. As an officer he’s lucky enough to have his own small apartment on base, and he waits three more weeks, the CD burning a proverbial hole in his desk drawer, until he finally saves up enough money to go get his own computer from Circuit City. It takes all goddamn afternoon to set up the computer and install Windows and finally, just after sunset, the computer boots up and is ready to use. 

He slides the disc into his computer’s drive and watches for the first time, headphones on his ears to get the full experience. After the camera pans out to reveal your naked body you take a seat on the edge of the bed - he notices it’s your bed in your home bedroom - and the camera slowly pans back in as you lie down and slowly spread your legs. It remains a tight, but full-body still-shot for the rest of the video, recording you touching yourself to the tune of no less than three orgasms. Frankie can’t help himself and begins to touch himself too on your final peak.

Your breathy, panting moans, the way you pinch your nipples, the wet noises of your cunt, your fingers circling your clit, your cries as you fall over the crest each time; it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He wants to immediately call you and talk about it but with his training schedule keeping him busy and your junior year keeping you busy, you’ve barely talked in the month he’s been gone. How can he call you now and talk about how he’s seen you naked and watched you getting yourself off? What is he supposed to say? Thank you? You guys used to talk to each other about everything, but does he tell you that he jerked off to you? Is that why you gave him this video? He doesn’t know how to proceed. Why would you give him this as he was leaving?

The two of you write some letters back and forth and you eventually connect for a phone call at Christmas break, right before he heads to his post, but you miss his long-distance call from the base in Germany on New Year’s Eve. The calls get fewer and further between but his views on that CD never falter. It’s been so long since he’s spoken to you, almost two decades now, but he watches your video all the time, counting the CD among his prized possessions. 

He’s not even ashamed to admit that he takes his cock in his hand nearly every time he watches and can time it so perfectly by now that he’s spilling his come over his hand just as you hit your third orgasm. Shit, he’s pretty sure the disc is in his laptop’s CD-drive right now. He brought his laptop, right? He feels himself start to harden in his pants. Maybe he can ditch out on this reception early and go back to his room to watch it. Even without any champagne, that would make it a good night. 

He feels a gentle tap on his shoulder.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Things Break

Requested by Anon: Hi! Can you write a story where Tom x reader have a rough sex, and after that or during that reader felt pain and Tom is scared that he hurt reader? PS.I LOVE YOUR FICS!!!!!

A/N: YAS I THINK I LOVE/HATE THIS REQUEST BUT LIKE YAS! I would like to add that I do not like writing hurtful sex, especially if one of the partners is unwilling to get hurt. I have skimmed on the details, because I think this oneshot is centered around Tom begging for pardon and never doing such a thing again. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

Warnings: smut, mentions of harm/hurt

*gif not mine

(Tags at the end)

Enjoyed this and want more? Send in your requests!

TAG LIST IS OPEN

Request Guidelines

MASTERLIST

You waited for Tom in the kitchen, unaware that his day had been hell. He had texted you that he was on his way from set, as he always did. You prepared a lunch, nothing big, just some salad, quick bites, and hot tea. 

You expected the usual banter; forgot his lines, forgot blocking, laughed during a sad scene, etc etc... However, you didn’t expect the sudden rush of the door, a heavy bang as he set his bags on the floor. The shuffling of his feet, quick and hard, on the floor as he looked for you. The atmosphere turning almost cold as he walked into the kitchen; you at the stove, him almost seething by the door. 

“Tom?” The frown on your face spoke more than the words that could have left your lips. He was angry, that was sure. His shoulders rose with the rhythm of his ragged breaths, wheezed through clenched teeth. His jaw was set, a muscle in his cheek twitching. Bronze colored hair in a mess, wild blue eyes ablaze. “Is something the matter?”

He took a few tentative steps around the counter, until you could see his clenched fists at his sides. He wasn’t speaking, just eyeing you with anger and hunger. 

His fingers found the curve of your waist and pulled you to him, the smell of him invading your senses. The wooden spoon in your hands found the counter as you slowly, almost temptingly, wrapped your hands around the back of his neck. Tipping your head back, hair sliding along your back, you tried to catch his eye. 

“Hard day at work?” you asked lowly. He hummed low in his throat, nuzzling your face until he could meet his lips to yours. While his mouth molded to yours, his fingers slid along the flesh of your arms until he was scraping the end of your skirt up your leg. Nails raked along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“I just need you,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, your breaths quick and shallow. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders as he brought the hem of your skirt to your navel, where he could skim his fingers on the edge of your knickers. His lips kept whispering on the flesh below your ear. 

You were accustomed to him being sexually demanding, to say the least. Especially when you’d been apart for long or if the day had taken its toll on him. It always ended satisfyingly. But this time, as his fingers all but ripped your underwear to shreds and his fingers left bruises on your waist - this time was different. 

You loved Tom. You really did. Whenever he was in you, it was as if paradise was brought to your feet. But this time, with the razor edge of the counter digging into your bare hips, and his own snapping from behind, it was not totally paradise. 

And when he was done, spilling himself with one last painful thrust, it was the first time ever that you were happy that it was the end. 

You didn’t know how to tell him. How do you say that the man that you love just gave you painful sex and an even more painful soul for a few minutes? 

But you didn’t have to say much. He buckled himself up faster than lighting, twisting your body until you faced him. For a split instant, you thought he was crying. He swept you off your feet, cradling you into his arms. Your nose swept across his neck, smelling his musk, the one you loved to curl into after sex. 

Quickly, Tom walked across the pad until he reached the bathroom. Setting you onto your feet, he was fast in twisting the knobs of the tub. He returned to you, softly tugging at the straps of your dress until it was splayed at your ankles. Your underwear came next as he helped you step out of them. 

Still silent as ever, he guided you towards the tub, where you sat in steaming water. Tom filled the tub with lavender smelling bubbles and sitz, to calm your aches. You were searching him with your eyes, unknowingly asking for him to talk to you about what was going on inside that head of his. 

Slowly, he sat beside the tub, facing you. Rolling his sleeves, he dipped the tip of his fingers into the hot water. 

You curled into yourself. “Tom,” you croaked. 

“Y/N, I’m so-” he stopped himself, tears brimming his gorgeous eyes. “I’m so so sorry.” His voice cracked and he looked away, biting his bottom lip. 

Your own eyes brimmed with tears. 

“This will never happen again,” he sniffed. “I won’t treat you so terribly.”

You reached for him, hands dotted with water droplets. “Tom, no, don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

He cradled your hands in his, boring his icy stare into yours. “Y/N, I hurt you,” he said, voice trembling. “I saw it in your eyes. I am so sorry. Please forgive me.” His tone was but a murmur and your heart sank. 

It had not been a pleasant fuck, as you’d call it. You’d felt no love or tenderness from the man you adored, and usually, your love making was always based on sensuality and tenderness. You were not a pair bound to rough sex. That’s just not how you worked, and Tom always hated causing you any type of harm. So this time, this painful and seemingly clandestine bout of rough sex had taken you by surprise. 

“Tom, I love you,” you whispered, following his vagabond eyes with yours. “But you and I, rough sex?” you chuckled, “that doesn’t work. I forgive you, baby. Of course I do. Next time, just talk to me. I’m here.” 

He kissed your forehead tenderly. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled. Maybe things crack a little, but if both sides want to hold on, things get repaired. 

“Now wash my hair.”

tags:  @papi-chulo-bucky@fluasch@spudsandbandit@thatcrazybookwormgeek@loki-god-of-my-life@hodders2411 @internetgremlin IF I MISSED YOU, BECAUSE I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG, MESSAGE ME PLEASE

[selina-kyle89]

Hostage (Bucky x reader)

A/N: I’m still working on my other WIP but this is just a little drabble based off of an idea from @buckysoldierstories ☺️

Warnings: Smut, knife play, dirty talk

You struggled against the bonds holding you to the chair. The sadistic chuckle of your captor caused shivers to go down your spine. You continued to fight, the restraints biting into your skin causing you to hiss loudly. You were clad only in lingerie, making you feel even more vulnerable.

“It’s no use doll. They won’t budge.” He spoke lowly. “Ugh, fuck you Barnes!” You shouted in frustration. He stepped into the light, looking every bit the part of evil villain you remembered. James Buchanan Barnes aka The Winter Soldier stood before you. You eyed the various knives strapped to his combat pants, knowing full well that he’s not afraid to use them. Bucky sniggered at your outburst as he circled you like prey. “Ready to talk yet sweetheart? I’ve been more than patient I think. Wouldn’t wanna mess up your pretty little face.” You flinched as he ran a knife along the edge of your jaw. There was no way in hell you were talking. “I’ll never tell, you’ll have to kill me first.” You said indignantly. Bucky chuckled again as he moved in front of you. His large hands forcefully pushed open your legs, exposing them and he drug his knife up the inside of each thigh. “Oh no?,” Bucky questioned, pressing the tip of the knife against your clothed clit, “Lemme tell ya doll, I have ways of making you talk....and scream.” You could feel the wetness seeping into your panties but you’d be damned if you let him know you were turned on.

“Do your worst, Barnes. I’m not afraid of you.” You said, your voice only wavering slightly. Bucky smirked before taking the knife and slicing through your underwear in one swift swipe. You gasped loudly as your bra followed your ruined panties. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body appreciatively, his tongue moving across his bottom lip at the sight of your dripping core. “Your body betrays you Y/N. Looks like you’re enjoying our little game.” He said smugly. You hated to admit it but he was right. Your body was reacting to every little touch from the man in front of you. You whined and squirmed in your chair a little watching as Bucky’s eyes darkened slightly. “How about we make a deal, you tell me what I want to know and I’ll give a little reward.”

You opened your mouth to protest just as one thick digit began stroking along your soaked folds. A strangled moan left your lips instead, the feeling of being touched sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. “I-I’ll never tell.” You said through gritted teeth as he began circling your sensitive clit. “Oh but baby doll I think you will. You see, I’m pretty good with my hands and by the end of it, you’ll be begging for it.” You shut your eyes at his words, you didn’t want to look into his intense blue eyes because you knew he was right. You steeled yourself against the sensation of his finger on your cunt, not giving him the satisfaction. He took that as a challenge and when you felt two fingers press inside you, your resolve crumbled. “F-fuck p-please.” You begged, trying to bear down on his hand but Bucky held you firmly in place. “Told ya you’d be begging me. Just like the little slut you are. Now, you’re gonna tell me everything and then you’re gonna take my dick until I’ve decided I’m satisfied. And then maybe I’ll let you go.”

You whimpered at him, not even trying to deny that you’d do anything he asks or demands. Bucky continued pumping his fingers into your dripping pussy, his thumb circling your clit. You moaned loudly, so close to cumming and spilling your secrets when a wail rang out. You and Bucky looked at each other as the baby cried again.

“Shit, someone’s awake. I’ll get him.” Bucky said, instantly dropping character. “Wait! Untie me first Bucky!!” You screeched at his retreating figure. He stepped back inside the room, taking in your depraved look and shook his head. “Nah baby, I’m not finished yet. You just sit tight, I’ll be back.” With that he turned and left the room to attend to your crying son. “If he wasn’t my husband, I’d kill him.” You muttered to yourself.

Tags: @buckysoldierstories @221bshrlocked @papi-chulo-bucky @ballyhoobarnes @feelmyroarrrr @theimpossibleg1rl @papi-chulo-seb @m-a-t-91 @persephone-is-here-omg @4theluvofall

[melodymanny]

Pole dancing for some of the @chulounderwear models last night at CHULO Underwear presents SEX(UAL)HEALING, a NYFW Fundraiser for the Sex Workers Project What a fun night and fashion show. Congrats Chulo #chulounderwear #fashionweek #nycentertainers #lifeoftym #gaymoviestar #lgbtactivist #tymmoss @tymmoss (at HUSH HK) https://www.instagram.com/p/CokNE6kuQhE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[markusbrehmphoto]

Aspect Ratio

Model John Wood featuring Chulo Underwear

[dangerousvikings]

Hello guys!!

Are you ready for the next game?

This is our second part of our Halloween! See our first part HERE . You can still participate to our first challenge. Please, don’t forget to include the tag mias&laurashalloween , we wanna find and share your work! Anyone can join :) Have fun!

Note: Reblog so others can send you requests . @dangerousvikings​ won’t accept dares  to write but @ivaraddict​ does (Ivar) ;-p

 Character can be from Vikings (cast included), Sebastian Stan and his characters, Marvel and DC universe.

Others TV shows and movies that could be included: Star Wars, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Punisher, Teen Wolf, The Flash, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, The Last Kingdom (DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT WRITING SMUT FOR KIDS AND TEENAGERS).

 Truth:

Ask a blog admin “Truth or Dare?” then choose number from this list.

Which fictional character do you believe is the most like yourself?

When was the last time you really panicked?

What is the strangest habit you have?

What would you do if you were the opposite sex for a month?

If you could choose one superpower, what would it be and why?

What do most people think about you that is absolutely not true?

What is the craziest place you’ve ever had sex?

What was your most embarrassing moment in public?

Have you ever danced on a table when you were drunk?

Do you have a weird collection?

Have you ever bought something to wear to an event and then returned it to the store when the event was over?

What is your biggest pet peeve?

What is your favorite sandwich?

What's the sexiest thing about a guy?

Dare:

Dares are different online than the usual version. Dares here is in fact a “prompt” and the blog admin must write a drabble to fit the dare with the assigned character.

“I dare you to give me your underwear.”

“I dare you to tell me you love me.”

‘’ I dare you to answer me only with ‘’Please daddy’’ and ‘’Thank you daddy’’ for the rest of the game.

“I dare you to give someone a lapdance”

I dare you to suck on my finger and pretend you’re performing oral sex for 30 seconds.

I dare you to let me lick your lips and you have to resist kissing or touching me the whole time.

I dare you to go in the bathroom and take a suggestive selfie and send it to me.

I dare you to search for a softcore porn and narrate it as we all watch.

I dare you to take a shower with your clothes on.

I dare you to spank the person sitting next to you.

I dare you to a parent/sibling ‘I peed my pants.

I dare you to run in place while meowing for two straight minutes.

I dare you to send everyone here the dirtiest sex text  you can think of.

I dare you to play a sexy song and do a strip tease for everyone.

Tags: @ivaraddict @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @dani-si @lisinfleur @ivarsshieldmadien @akamaiden @angryschnauzer  @ursulaismymiddlename @ceridwenofwales @bonniebird  @nothingeverdies @noaor @sweetvengeancee @sebashtiansatan  @tephi101 @therealcalicali @laketaj24 @imgoldielikehawn @ivars-heathen @ivarswickedqueen @ivarsrideordie @ivars-snowflake  @mrstheorossix3 @mintandfigs @lupy22 @happydaysandersen  @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @doloreschanal @guardianofthestars25  @hippybride @weyheycraicey @whenimaunicorn @wanderlustingandwandering @zombie-zayde @sparklemichele @clumsywonderland @lordavanti @papi-chulo-bucky @persephone-is-here-omg @sconniebelle @rekdreams247 @synnersaint @siren-kitten-his @ivarslittlelamb   @ivarbarnes    @kitkat1690   @sugakookiexx   @theheathenqueendickubus     @fangirl-006   @kudosia      @fayebay       @radi0active-thoughts       @cruelle-despairing-fish    @jinchanyeolstolemysoul @som3thingcr3ative  @minelskede     @titty-teetee  @pawallday  @hoeghfabulous  @readsalot73 @rubysglowingeyes @sebatrash      @float-autumn-leave     @mcuimxgine @collecting-stories @marvelfanuniverse @bang-kim-bap  @lol-haha-joke @suz-123

[unsent-voicemail]

[Part 2] It’s James. (Bodyguard!Bucky x Female!Reader)

It’s James.

Don’t forget it, doll, because it’ll be the only name you’ll be screaming the whole night.

tw’s: (unprotected) sex, language, alcohol, drugs, au setting

Tag list: @sp2900​ @bloodiedskirtts​

* inspired from an ask from @papi-chulo-bucky * my hand slipped and made this super long * comments/feedback are appreciated

Bucky couldn’t say he was past the point of no return. They still had their clothes on, and it wasn’t too late to shove her off and walk away. He also had ample time to take a cold shower and jack himself off before heading to bed to get a sufficient amount of rest.

The problem, however, was that he didn’t want to return. He wanted to stay under her touch as she peppered his face and neck in wanton kisses and go further, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t fathom risking his reputation as the most honorable, respectable, and professional Director of the Secret Services just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“Stop.” Bucky’s tone was a weak attempt at being stern, while the supposed firm grip he had on her shoulders did nothing to stop her– anything he did at that point was blatantly ignored and wasn’t worthy of any sort of compliance. If anything, it only prompted her to press her heated core against his toned thigh, rocking her hips slowly to show how much she wanted him to get serious and stop her, or perhaps encourage her. She’d always been the boss of her own universe, so to have someone older and much more in control take that away from her had her squirming with arousal.

“Loosen up, Jake.” she giggled, sensing how tense and stiff his hands were. Placing her hands over his, she moved them to rest on her waist and dragged them upwards, letting his palms pass over the valley of her breasts and skim down to her stomach towards the direction of the spot that really needed attention. “It’ll be our secret. I promise.” she muttered in Bucky’s ear before taking his earlobe into her mouth, lightly sucking and biting.

It’s wrong!, his inner voice practically hollered at him, but his thought process was made hazy with arousal. He couldn’t deny how her expertly done ministrations sent him straight to Cloud 9 and beyond, but he also couldn’t deny the repercussions that were bound to come after their little moment– it was like being caught between a rock and a hard place, between lust and his career. Such thoughts seemed to evaporate, however, when his hands naturally started to knead and caress the soft mounds, making her sigh contentedly and gasp in pleasure, while his member strained against his pants, further clouding his thought process and the line of professionalism.

As wrong as the situation was to the naked eye, the way her sounds of sordid pleasure grew more intense, her whispers of how she wanted more, and the secrecy of their little encounter– everything seemed to fall into place and it felt so right.

She, however, felt the heat in her system intensify with lust, wanting nothing more than her buzzing, slow system to cooperate with the feral desire burning in her core. Closing her eyes, she allowed her desperate need for pleasure control her as she shamelessly ground her heated core against the prominent bulge in his pants. “Oh, Jeff.” she breathed. Through her intoxicated haze, she was aware that she’d been calling out the wrong name the entire time. As much as she wanted to correct herself, she didn’t know what to say.

“It’s James.” he growled the answer she’d been looking for the whole night, jaw tensing and teeth gritting before he hastily removed his suit jacket to show the crisp, white shirt that stretched nicely over the toned planes of his body.

He had come to a firm a decision, and that was to let his lust win over and have her scream the correct name as much as long as her voice could take it. Without any warning, he rolled her onto her back to hover over her, their faces mere inches away from each other. “Don’t forget it, doll, because it’ll the only name you’ll be screaming tonight.” his words were barely above a deep-toned whisper, and it sent delicious shudders all throughout her body.

“James.” she muttered out, lightly brushing her lips against his as she savored the sound of his name and the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. “Tell me every little thing you wanna do, James.” her voice was barely above a whisper, further drawing him into her. Cocking an eyebrow at her little challenge, Bucky moved to nudge her legs apart with his knee, audaciously pressing a toned thigh against her moist core.

“Well, baby doll.” he rasped, teeth lightly grazing the shell of her ear. “I wanna see how much you want this.” he murmured before ducking down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and neck. Fluttering her eyes closed, she turned her head to the side and further pressed her heated body against his. Drowned in lust, she became oblivious to the way his hand wandered up and down– cupping her plush backside before moving his hand under her skirt, trailing his fingers across the crotch of her underwear as he relished the warm, damp sensation that welcomed him.

“Oh, God.” she breathed out, feeling his fingers sneak its way into her underwear and run across her slit. Engaging in something so promiscuous wasn’t exactly new to her, but she could say that it was definitely her first time being handled by a man who knew his stuff– who knew that her humble bodyguard could treat her way better than those stuck-up conglomerate heirs she wasted her time on? “I’ve been a fool.” she uttered mindlessly, a bit too garbled for Bucky to make out.

Lost in thoughts of how good he was to her, she didn’t notice that Bucky had already slipped two fingers into her dripping core up until the pads of his fingers brushed against a certain bundle of nerves that made her jolt and roll her eyes so far back that she was certain only her scleras were visible. Bucky, on the other hand, could hardly hold himself back from biting down on his lower lip as his hand picked up the speed, greedily wanting to her more of her moans and whimpers of pleasure.

Despite the garage’s dim lighting, he could still see how her face was contorted in pleasure as it glowed with a light sheen of sweat, causing stray strands of her hair to stick to her forehead in an elegant disarray. At that moment, Bucky was so absorbed in seeing more of her coming apart and falling deeper in ecstasy that he failed to notice how tight she was around his fingers, indicating that she was close to her climax. It wasn’t until something warm sprayed on his lower stomach, soaking through his shirt, that he was brought back to earth and realized that shit, he just made her squirt. 

While Bucky has had his fair share of experience in the bedroom, he wouldn’t necessarily say that it was anything adventurous or notable, which is why it came as a surprise to him that he experienced what the porn industry seemingly shoved down the masses’ throats. She, on the other hand, tried her best to catch her breath as she lay flat on the vehicle’s leather seats, her lips curled up into a blissed out smile. She knew that should word of their little rendezvous get out, they would be in deep shit, but after knowing for sure that he’s the first man who ever treated her right in an intimate sense, she decided that it was absolutely worth the trouble.

Mustering all the strength she had left in her body, she sat up and motioned for him to do the same before taking the liberty to straddle him and place her damp crotch over his prominent bulge. Wasting no time, she moved to ghost her lips along his neck as she moved down south, gingerly getting onto her knees whilst unbuttoning his shirt before pressing needy kisses onto the newly-exposed skin, eliciting pleased sighs from Bucky as his left hand absentmindedly carded through her hair. Upon feeling her unzip his pants and run her warm palm over the tent that had formed in his boxers, he couldn’t help but bite down on his lower lip as he watched her seemingly admire with wide doe eyes what he had to offer, making him wonder if she’s ever been with anyone as– humility aside– gifted as he was.

Once she took the liberty to free his rock-hard member from its rather suffocating constraints, Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his head back, already falling into pleasure just from the cool air that seemingly caressed his heated shaft. Without warning, she gingerly poked her tongue out to coyly lick at the swollen head. Gasping, the brunette man’s grip on her hair tightened, giving her the impression that he was all for what she was about to do. Looking up at him through her dark lashes, she blinked in mock innocence a few times before dipping her head down to fully take him in her mouth. 

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky’s voice cracked as he cussed out loud, pleasantly jolted by how good it felt. Through hooded eyes, he watched as she bobbed her head up and down as she hollowed her cheeks, putting so much effort into pleasuring him as if it were her job. “Princess... My sweet little princess.” he absentmindedly breathed out, which seemed to fuel something that made her moan and attempt to take him in further, not stopping until she felt the tip of his member nudge the back of her throat. Not being able to hold back, he stilled her head with both hands as he thrust into her mouth wildly, causing her to moan around him while saliva ran down the sides of her mouth. It didn’t take more than ten thrusts for him to shudder and buck deep into her mouth, shooting a rather hefty load down her throat, which she was more than happy to swallow. “Shit, princess. Don’t waste a drop.” he grunted, finding himself slightly amused at how she turned out to be a swallow kind of lady; her pristine and spoiled image made him think that the mere thought of it would be more than enough to make her gag in disgust– it turns out that she was a little more adventurous than he thought.

On any given day, she would pull away before the first drop of semen could touch any part of her body, but this time, she made an exception; there was just something about her unbelievably attractive bodyguard that made her want to impress him. Perhaps, she had grown tired of the hopeless boys trying to impress her in bed, only for them to chase after their own pleasure before leaving her high and dry. Bucky, however, just had this confident, experienced air around him that told her that he would surely take care of her and then some, leading her to step up her game for that night– she didn’t want him to know that she had wasted her time on losers who had nothing but money to offer.

She couldn’t deny that the way he praised her further added to her arousal. Sure, she was flooded with compliments every waking minute, but she knew it was superficial and solely said just for the sake of saying something. However, with the way Bucky moaned out how she was doing so well and making him feel so good, she could feel the raw sincerity and got addicted to it. Hell, she would be more than willing to be painted with his load like a cheap whore as long as she could hear more of it.

Bucky’s thick, calloused fingers lazily danced along her jaw as he panted in an attempt to catch his breath, while she leaned her cheek on his thigh, occasionally poking her tongue out the lick at his semi-hard shaft. When she least expected it, he tightened his grip on her face and made her look up at him, making her meet his lust-filled gaze. In mock confusion, she slowly batted her eyelashes at him and slightly tilted her head to the side, making the man chuckle in amusement at her rather transparent act. “Oh, princess.” he crooned, running his thumb over her swollen lower lip. Wordlessly, he pulled her up by the waist to settle on the seats, gently guiding her to lay on her back before he hovered over her.

The two were enveloped in a brief moment of silence as they caught their breaths and looked into each others’ lust-blown gazes. Licking her lips, she gingerly reached out a hand to cup his cheek as she slowly pulled him down for a heated kiss, to which he eagerly reciprocated as he felt himself grow hard once more. Upon feeling his bare arousal lightly prod at her exposed thigh, she hooked her legs around his waist to grind her dampened sex against it. Moaning into her mouth, he gripped the plush flesh wrapped around him, lightly sinking his fingers into it whilst rolling his hips into her. 

“Ah, fuck!” she cried, immediately getting addicted to the feeling of his bare erection rubbing through her clothed, heated core. She was still quite sensitive from his earlier ministrations, hence leading her to abruptly orgasm, moving her grip from his face to his shoulders as she moaned out and screwed her eyes shut tightly; she can’t recall if someone ever made her orgasm twice in a row, but if they did, it seemed like it’s been a while given how foreign the feeling was to her. “Jesus fuck!” she choked out, feeling her entire body buzz with the euphoric aftershocks of her orgasm.

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride (and arrogance) at how he made her into a sweaty, moaning mess, and he wasn’t even halfway through with her. As hesitant as he was in the beginning, he was way in too deep right now. In his life, the high-profile former Secret Services Director had his fair share of drugs, alcohol, and gambling, but always found the will to keep himself from getting hooked. Getting a taste of her, however, made it almost impossible for him to control and stop himself– professionalism be damned. All he knew at that moment was that he had to get his fix of her while he still can; God knows when they’ll get to do this again, and he wouldn’t know what to do until then– for sure, his right hand would absolutely be useless after this encounter.

“James.” she rasped, pulling him out of his reverie and diverting his attention into her lustful, needy gaze peeking through her eyelids that have gotten heavy with pleasure. “I want you so badly.” she murmured before grinding her clothed crotch into his stiff member once more.

“I want you, too, princess.” Bucky gruffly replied, running his hands over her smooth expanse of her legs before briefly pulling away to flip her onto her stomach, gripping her hips and pressing himself against her ass once he got her where he wanted her. Sighing in bliss, she pressed her cheek against the semi-sticky leather seats and arched her back, wiggling her hips against him in anticipation. “You have no idea.” his voice was barely above a whisper as his hands pushed her skirt up, revealing her plush, scantily clad backside to him. “Sweet Jesus.” he muttered, biting down on his lower lip as he his warm, calloused palms ran through her ass before moving it across her waist to cup her breasts.

Upon feeling him knead the flesh and tug at her nipples through the her clothes before harshly ripping her dress to get a better feel of her luscious assets, she let out another satisfied sigh, shifting to press her core against his bare member before rubbing herself against him. Realizing that she was more than ready for what he had in store for her, he let out an amused chuckle at her desperation before tugging her underwear down to her knees, making her gasp and whimper at the cool pads of his fingers running up and down her leaking slit.

“My, my, princess.” Bucky was in awe at how soaked she was for him; never in his life did he fathom he would have a seemingly untouchable, out-of-his-league lady on her knees, desperate and begging for him– it made his cock swell and further harden in arousal, as if it wasn’t hard enough. He had planned to tease and frustrate her all night long, the same way she teased and sexually frustrated him since Day 1, but he couldn’t hold back his excitement and decided that he just had to have her right now. “You’re soaked.” he mindlessly commented, though it didn’t go unnoticed as the heat crawled up to her cheeks while her legs closed ever so slightly, embarrassed at how desperate she probably looked at the moment. “Don’t be shy, princess. You’re not as pristine as people think.” Bucky cooed teasingly, placing a rather harsh smack on her bottom and a tug on her nipple, urging her to keep her legs apart as a wanton moan escaped her lips.

“Fucking hurry up!” she hissed in impatience, proving that despite the weight of intoxication and arousal, she still was the sassy, smart-mouthed brat; perhaps, it was part and parcel of who she really was. She knew that it was always her way or no way, but in that particular moment, however, where she was under the mercy of a dominating, headstrong man, she knew that it was best to watch herself or she’d never get what she wanted.

Raising an eyebrow at her snark, Bucky placed another harsh smack across her ass before tugging her head back by her hair, as if to warn her to pipe down. “Feisty, are we?” the brunette tutted, biting back the amused smirk that was making its way to his face. Soothingly rubbing the red mark, he gripped his cock with his free hand, giving it a few tugs before aligning it with her soaked core, running the angrily read head up and down just to tease her.

Feeling him prolong the teasing and take her farther away from what she wanted the most at that moment, she felt tears prick at her eyes as she jerked her hips back in a futile attempt to relieve herself. Finally caving it, Bucky leaned down to level his lips to her ear, whispering promises of how he’ll give it to her and make her feel so good that she’ll never forget it, making her whimper as she mindlessly nodded her head in hopes that her show of desperation would make him give in. Letting out a low chuckle at how adorable she was even at her most immodest state, he inhaled sharply before inserting the tip of his member into her, relishing the feel of her warm, silky walls embracing his shaft as he took his time pushing in inch by inch, letting out a shaky breath each time he did so.

“Oh, James!” she cried out, her nails scratching on the seats in an attempt to hold onto something, anything that would keep her from floating away on her orgasmic high. Interpreting her response as positive affirmation, Bucky’s grip on her hips and hair tightened as he thrust into her, letting out a stuttered gasp as he felt her walls clench around him, while she mewled and moaned out at the pleasurable feeling of being so full– none of her lovers has ever come close to making her feel that way. “Shit, James, babe.” she muttered, feeling her head spin with arousal albeit him barely doing anything.

Not being able to hold himself back, Bucky tested the waters and thrust into her shallowly, eliciting moans and sighs from her while he threw his head back, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Soon enough, it seemed that his body acted on its own as he found himself thrusting erratically into her, giving into her pleas for him to go “deeper” and “harder”. Initially, he planned on taking full control of what was about to go down that night, but he found himself wrapped around her dainty finger as always, realizing that her pleasure was something he could get off to.

Feeling Bucky give it to her in a way that was electrifyingly foreign made it clear to her that there was no way she was going to last longer than she had hoped, especially since she was still quite sensitive from her previous orgasm. Bucky, however, had different plans, as he briefly pulled out of her and sat back down on the seats before pulling her onto his lap. Getting the message, she wasted no time in straddling him as one hand gripped his cock, guiding it back in her core, while her other hand held onto his nape for dear life. Once she was fully seated, she felt his cock lightly twitch and brush against a certain bundle of nerves that would reduce her into a sensitive, sobbing mess in no time. Bingo, was the only thought that crossed Bucky’s mind upon noting the sudden shift in her expression– he’s got her good now.

Given that she wasn’t as well-versed in the position as she is with others, she lifted her hips before sinking back down, testing the waters by riding him slowly; there was no way in hell that she was going to ruin this for them. Sensing her insecurity, Bucky reached out a hand to grip at her waist, while the other softly cupped her cheek, startling her and making her look at him. “You’re gonna ride me good, baby?” he asked huskily, to which she frantically nodded to in reply. “You’re gonna make me feel so good, huh? I know you will.” he added, making her clench around his swollen member further– she absolutely loved it when he talked dirty to her. “Shit!” he hissed as the grip he had on her waist tightened.

Oh, she was gonna be the death of him.

“Yes, James.” she whispered into his ear, before taking the dive and hastening the movement of her hips, alternating between bouncing on him and moving her hips in circles. Gritting his teeth, Bucky let out strings of curses and praise, hoping that by being talkative, he could distract himself from reaching his climax. As unfair as it was, however, he wanted her to reach hers quickly– there was just something so addicting about they way she looked when she was coming apart. With that thought in mind, his hand sneaked in between them, his fingers reaching out to circle and rub at her clit. “James– fuck! Right there!” she moaned out loud, the movement of her hips speeding up even more. As much as she wanted to make tonight all about them, her arousal sparked something greedy and selfish in her that she wanted to chase her orgasm.

Trying to prolong her orgasm was, in Bucky’s humble opinion, futile at this point– the thought of him teasing and punishing her the whole evening was a bust, as all he wanted to do at that moment was for them to be intertwined and drowned in ecstasy. “I’m not gonna last, princess.” Bucky groaned out, throwing his head back on the headrests as the touch he had on her clit grew heavier. “I’m not...” he trailed off, screwing his eyes shut and moving his hips up to meet her thrusts, eliciting cracked cries and long moans from her.

It was in Bucky’s nature to be alert and calculating, even when it came to small matters, but with the way their bodies fluidly moved as one, he lost track of time and all other senses. The only thing he could focus on at that moment was how the heat in his lower belly roared and eventually made its exit through his member, coating the walls of her warm cavern with copious amounts of his seed. It didn’t take more than five seconds for her to follow suit, reaching her climax with a high scream as she succumbed to the pleasure of him filling her up and lazily rubbing her sensitive nub. Her core clamped down on him so tightly that Bucky swore and abruptly let out another spurt of cum into her, making him let out a string of cusses at how deliciously overstimulated and sensitive he was. 

Lazily circling her hips, she made the most out of her orgasm and rode it out before flopping down in exhaustion, inhaling and exhaling deeply in an attempt to catch her breath. Bucky moved his hand from her waist and core up to skim up and down her back, blankly staring at the ceiling as he drowned in his post-orgasm high. “Jesus, princess.” he muttered lowly, disbelieving that they actually fucked and that she could fuck like no other. “You’re a damn catch.” he chuckled out, to which she hummed in response.

“Oh, James.” it was a shock that she was able to say his name correctly given that she was shrouded in paralyzing pleasure. “Goddamn, where have you been all my life?” she mumbled into his shoulder, eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. For someone who seemed to be void of romantic and sexual relationships, her bodyguard sure knew how to guard a lady’s body.

“I’ve always been here, princess.” was Bucky’s gruff reply, punctuating his statement with wet kisses along her breasts up to her neck as he laid her across the cool, leather seats to lay with her and bask in the afterglow a bit longer. “I’m here.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead as her eyes fluttered shut, a telling sign that he would have to carry her up to her bedroom just like he’d always do after her wild alcohol binges.

This time, however, it wouldn’t matter to him at all. That way, he could get a little more time with her, and perhaps get her even more intoxicated in something else if the opportunity presented itself.

[i-the-hell-is-bvcky]

In Plain Sight

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (F)

Word Count: 1,601

Warnings: Unprotected sex, swearing, public sex, slight daddy kink

Summary: Chris and the reader spend their day off screwing in a library.

A/N: Please like, comment and reblog! And as usual, this is an 18+ story only.

“We can’t do this here!” Chris whisper yells as Y/n drags him through the bookshelves of their favorite library. On a rare day off for the couple, Chris and Y/n decided to make use of their roughly twenty-four hours of freedom by hitting up all their favorite spots around Boston. As a personal assistant to an interior designer, she rarely gets days off—constantly hopping from houses to apartments daily is exhausting so a day off is much needed. With Chris’s hectic schedule shooting the next installment of The Avengers, he was due for a small break. Chris watches Y/n as she moves slowly down the aisle, the sway of her hips is enticing under her dress.

“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure, darling?” Y/n whispers as she peers down the large aisles of books, looking for a spot far away from people.

“I lost it the second time I went skydiving,” Chris jokes. Y/n rolls her eyes and shoved him against a bookcase. It rocks gently, and they hold a collective breath.

"See?" Chris says, "too much adventure. I thought we were just going to come check out some books."

"Darling you know that we are both far too busy to read. But," Y/n pauses and leans into him, her breath hot on his face. Her body is flush with his, she can practically feel the arousal rolling off him. Her hands trail down his sides before using her right hand to rub his crotch. Chris sucks in a sharp breath, his mind already racing at the thought of getting it on in the library.

"Y/n," Chris whispers.

"Yes," Y/n draws out the syllable, her lashes batting innocently. She watches his Adam's apple bob up and down. Chris tries to focus—breathing through his nose and thinking of things that are the antithesis of sexy. It doesn't work.

"Whatta ya doin there?" His accent slips, it usually does when he's aroused so Y/n knows she's doing something right. Sinking to her knees, she does a quick check of her surroundings. Finding that they're alone, she begins to unbuckle his belt.It’s always a huge ego boost watching his girlfriend undress him so quickly.

“I was thinking I could give you a quick blowjob, if that's okay of course." Chris moans softly as she rubs him through his boxers.

"What if we get caught? That is not how I want my career to end." Y/n considers his words. Of course, she doesn't want them to get caught and the thought of the repercussions make her sick. But why is her body humming with excitement?

"You'll be quiet for me, won't you baby?" She purrs. Chris swallows down a moan. He loves it when she gets like this—she's seductive and bossy and it gets him hard as a rock. He nods, his hips taking on a life of their own as he thrusts into her face. Y/n pulls back and tuts in disapproval.

"Use your words, sweetie."

"Yes," Chris sighs. "I'll be quiet. Please just..." Chris trails off when Y/n pulls his dick out of his boxer, the brisk air making him twitch.

"Shhh, I got you.” Y/n rubs her thumb around his already leaky tip, spreading the precum. Chris lets out a shudder as she fists his swollen dick, her eyes marveling at how he looks in her hand. Y/n can feel her mouth water at the thought of his prick in her mouth and she forgoes teasing him.

“Fuck,” Chris moans out when Y/n takes him into her mouth. He’s warm and salty and everything she loves. Chris’s hand moves to Y/n’s head, brushing strays of hair away from her face. He can’t believe he’s getting blown in the public library. His mind drifts to the idea of them getting caught but it’s quickly brushed aside when Y/n takes him deeper.

“Shit babe,” Chris huffs and she looks up at him. Her eyes are wide and glazed over; her nose flairs as she manages her breathing. It’s nearly all too much for him. “You look so pretty sucking me. Such a good girl,” he whispers. She swoons at his; Y/n pulls off him, a trail of spit follows and falls on her chin. Chris leans down and gives her an opened mouth kiss. Y/n moans into his mouth, her head dizzy with arousal.

“I want you on my cock,” Chris says against her lips.

“Now?” Y/n whispers, she’s never fucked in a public place but the idea thrills her. He runs his thumb against her plump lower lip, Y/n can’t help but lick it and take it into her mouth. Chris grunts and stand them both up; he walks them to a desk further down the aisle and turns Y/n’s back to it.

“Since you wanna play games,” he whispers as he stands between her legs. He hikes her skirt up to her waist and rubs her panty covered pussy. Y/n keens into his touch.

“Such a naughty girl, sucking my dick in public and now you’re soaked. You want me to fill you up babygirl?” Y/n whines and nods.

“Please Chris, I want you to fill me up with your cum.” He’s at a loss for words so he kisses her and moves her underwear to the side, his fingers dipping into her dripping hole. Y/n’s heart pounds in anticipation for that first thrust. She bucks into his hand and moves her mouth to Chris’s neck where she bites him.

Chris pumps his cock a few times before lining himself up with her hole. He runs his cock up and down her slit, getting him wet with her slick. Y/n is starting to get impatient—she desperately wants him to fill her up so much that she’s shaking. When he slowly inches is way inside, it’s like she’s falling and waiting for the crash.

“Fuck!” They both hiss when bottoms out. Y/n holds onto him tightly, her hands wrapped around his neck. Chris circles his hips slowly, his dick massaging every nook and cranny of her pussy.

“Chris...” Y/n pleads. Chris cups her face to stop her whimpers and begins to fuck into her with purpose. He knows they don’t have enough time so he’s gonna have to put in work. The tip of his cock hits that spot deep in Y/n and it has her gasping for breath.

“Shhh, can’t be too loud. Does it feel good? God, you feel so fucking good...so wet and so fucking tight,” Chris grunts. Y/n does her best to keep her moans in but one sneaks out. Chris pauses and the two hold each other, waiting.

“Be. Quiet,” Chris warns.

“But you feel so fucking good,” Y/n pouts. He looks down at her with all the love in the world.

“I know baby but you started this and now you have to suffer the consequences. And that consequence is getting fucked hard in this library and having to keep quiet.” Y/n shudders at his words. “Lay down,” Chris orders and Y/n at her core is an obedient girl for him no matter how much she likes to take control. So she lays back on the table, her body humming with excited energy of how hard her boyfriend is going to fuck her.

“Ready?” Chris asks. She looks at him—his hair is longer for a movie he’s working on and he grew out his beard. He’s nearly unrecognizable.

“God yes, please baby,” Y/n begs. Chris’s thrusts are heavy but calculated. Y/n’s insides feel like molten lava moving slowing through her. Chris wraps her legs around his waist, one hand her hip and the other covers her mouth. Y/n’s eyes roll back in pleasure as Chris ruts into her. The table squeaks lightly but it isn’t too noticeable.

“So fucking good,” Chris pants in between breaths, “I need you to come. Can you do that for daddy?” Y/n responds with a muffled moan, her pussy reacting to his words by tightening around his thick dick.

He fucks into her with everything he’s got, the fabric of his boxers brushes against her clit and it has her manic. Y/n nips at his palm and grabs his hands to steady her.

Her orgasm rushes through her, her back rising off the table slightly. Chris wraps one arm under her and pulls her close as the other holds her head as he kisses her firmly. Chris finishes with a sharp grunt, his warm cum filling Y/n up. His hips rock steadily into her as they both come down, he wants to savor this moment.

“That was,” Y/n takes a second to gather her breath,”amazing.” Chris chuckles softly and gives her a wet kiss which she melts into.

“Now we got to go,” Chris says with a slight pout. He pulls out of Y/n slowly and stuffs himself back into his pants. Chris eyes the thick dribble of his cum seeping out of her hole and grins.

“We didn’t really think this through, huh?” Y/n says.

“I guess,” Chris steps between her thighs and puts her panties back in place. “You’re gonna have to figure out a way to keep that inside you until we get home. Then, I’m gonna fuck you senseless all over the house.” Y/n had never been so excited to leave the library.

Tags: @areubeingserved @getinmelanin011 @papi-chulo-bucky @thewinterstolemyheart @stars8melanin @suz-123 @pocmarvelworks @wildaboutchrisevans @valynsia @jazzytee @patzammit

[catholicdaredevil]

Bucky Barnes’ Son Headcanon

Requests are open so go ahead and send them in!

A/N: so im doing this cause me and gen have been screaming to each other about bucky being a father so here's this based on an already born son!!! also these are mainly based off of what the other avengers would be like with bucky’s kid vs how bucky would be also i just shit this out in a couple hours

first of all bucky names his kid grant,,,,,,,,

he doesn’t tell anyone other than steve what his full name is

until grant bolts out of his room and buckys apartment without any pants on

and hes scream laughing and running around the kitchen in his underwear

“GRANT THOMAS BARNES GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW”

bucky storms out of his apartment not knowing sam was sitting at the kitchen counter eating cereal

and at the name sam jolts in his seat, choking on a mouthful of frosted flakes

“did - did you name your kid after me?”

bucky stops dead in his tracks and his face immediately turns ridiculously red

“uh no, what do you mean after you? I didn’t name my kid after you. psh ridiculous. outlandish. of course i didnt. i wouldnt. i mean ----”

and grant pops his head out from the other side of the counter thats between him and his dad and grins

“mom says that you and uncle steve are dads bestest friends so thats why i have your names. she says that dad trusts you guys more than anyone in the whole entire world and im not allowed to talk about it”

he seems so pleased with himself and buckys jaw drops at the little shit that is his kid

sams completely frozen

his cereal getting soggy as it sits in the milk untouched

and his eyes start to water and the next thing he knows tears are streaming down his face

and he stands up so quick the chair falls backwards and bucky jumps finally turning to look at sam

and sam just leaps at bucky and crashes into him his arms wrapping around the super soldier tightly

“thank you” he whispers and bucky can’t help but to hug him back

meanwhile besides sam, steve and clint everyone else seems a bit indifferent to grant until the toddler starts talking even more

the entire team wouldn’t expect to get as attached to buckys son as they did

cause yeah grant was cute but they didn’t have time for kids

or so they thought

cause one day grant would be playing hide and seek with bucky in the compound and he’d slip into tony’s lab and get so caught up in watching tony work

when he finally turned around to see the kid sitting on the floor just following him with his eyes he MELTS

and lets grant climb up into his lap

“so now i’m running some programs to make sure that every piece of peters suit is working well”

and grants just nodding along like hes 6 and understands nanotechnology

and bucky finally gets nervous unable to find his son anywhere so he asks friday

“grant it’s time for dinner plus you know youre not allowed in tonys lab without permission.” he chastises

but tony scoffs and sets the child back on the ground but before he runs off he yells out

“hey grant you have MY permission to come back whenever you want. how about you come visit uncle tony tomorrow?”

and bucky levels tony with w look that could kill and ushers grant out the door before turning

“since when are you uncle tony?”

“since i realized it’d bother you”

“god fucking damn it tony”

every single avenger has certain things they love to do with the kid

steve likes to take grant to the park and get him ice cream or candy

basically whenever he returns buckys kid hes sticky, needs a bath and has a million stories from his day

sam likes to play with grants toys, he’ll lay on the floor and play legos for HOURS

and bucky swears he sees sam stare longingly at the toy room that the legos are in even when grant is nowhere near

bruce always lets grant climb all over him while he tells the small child stories about how cool science is

and while at the idea of being around a small kid used to make him nervous in terms of the hulk hes not scared anymore

since bruce and hulk both agreed to never put grant in any danger

and tony starts making jokes about how this goes to prove that it takes ‘a village to raise a child’

says it so much that bruce decides to cross stitch something that says “it takes the avengers to raise a child” and tony loves it so much

he gets it framed and puts it on the wall in the living room and bucky rolls his eyes every single time he passes it

peter even likes to come over and watch spongebob and frozen and whatever kid show grants currently into

bucky has never even remotely considered calling a babysitter that isn’t an avenger

literally maria hill who always insists she hates kids loves grant

bucky is less thrilled about this friendship since maria tended to give grant weapons

she is why outside one day after yelling out “what do you have?”

grant giggled “A KNIFE” and continued running

“NOOOO”

loki was so soft around grant

he would constantly be doing magic to make the kid giggle and laugh

he’d enchant different toys to talk for a couple hours then just watch as grant would play

HALLOWEEN

listen if you think every single avenger wouldn’t dress up for halloween every year to go trick or treating with grant you have another thing coming

this kid by age four pretty much has every single adult wrapped around his tiny chubby little fingers

especially bucky

which is understandable it is his kid

but honestly bucky has no fucking idea how to say no

so grant is the most spoiled kid in the whole world

to make a long story short it would be

one big happy family

Tags: @hootyhoobuckaroo @tropicalcap @papi-chulo-bucky @tokoyamisstuff @tjhammcnd