#Dry Satin Black

[guitarbomb]

Manson Guitar Works MA and Verona Junior - £1399

Manson Guitar Works, a renowned name in the guitar industry, has recently announced the launch of two new guitar models – the MA and Verona Junior. These models are notable for being the most affordable guitars manufactured in the UK by the company.  MA and Verona Junior The newly introduced Junior range features two distinct models: the MA, known for its familiar body shape, and the Verona,…

[c0llisiion]

NEED TO KNOW — j.jk

★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 4,395

A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!

.02 <3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.

Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.

You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.

He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.

Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.

Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.

Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.

The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.

Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.

All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone.  He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.

“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.”  He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you,  sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move. 

A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.

One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.

You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp.  “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away. 

A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.

All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.

It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.

He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.

He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.

He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.

“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.

You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.

Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.

This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.

He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.

Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.

You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.

A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“My dirty little girl."

A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3

[pedrospatch]

Just Friends

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be. 

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration. 

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men. 

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date. 

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time. 

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña. 

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded. 

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb. 

Of course he knew Valeria. 

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different. 

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you. 

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things. 

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home. 

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you. 

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse. 

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.” 

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again. 

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed. 

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him. 

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole. 

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you. 

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him. 

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.” 

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile. 

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow.  “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights. 

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good. 

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch. 

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier. 

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin. 

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him. 

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide. 

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor. 

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him. 

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip. 

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen. 

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. 

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself. 

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true. 

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge. 

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely. 

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you. 

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come. 

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release. 

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely. 

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants. 

 “J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder. 

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—” 

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth.  “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you. 

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss. 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow? 

[cherrybr4t]

coups and panty stuffing?

A/N: a continuation from cheol + panty sniffing! 😆 THANK YOUU ANON for requesting <3 let’s dive into hard hours. 🍒💋 (WC: 1.9k)

+18, MDNI!!

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, f reader, fingering, panty stuffing (mouth n c*nt), spanking, lots of the nickname baby (from cheol), praising + degradation combi, filth. yep.

roommate!cheol who continues to sneak into your room to steal your pretty panties even after getting caught getting off to it once

roommate!cheol who is now your boyfriend — one thing led to another, confessions were in place and he is still as obsessed with you months after dating

roommate!cheol knows that you’ve been purchasing more panties — raunchy, with little to no coverage, decorative laces ranging from bright red to black, just because you know how much he loves to steal them (or collect them)

roommate/boyfriend!cheol mentions to you how he wants to try panty stuffing, and you agreed—rather excitingly. you trust him, and trust that he’s always able to bring you to new heights of pleasure every time.

“fuck baby, look at you, showing off your pretty collection of panties every night just for me,” he runs his finger along the edges of your new black satin string panty, with decorative lace at the sides. he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on, and you feel it.

“so fucking sexy laid out for me, spoiling me with new pretty panties on your perfect cunt — it’s like opening a present every damn time,” he groans, gripping onto your hips tightly as he lowers himself, face to face with your dripping cunt.

the smell of your arousal makes him so dizzy, nothing could ever beat coming home to you, all wet and ready for him.

“it’s like you want me obsessed with you,” he licks and sucks around your inner thighs as you whine, anticipation causing you to writhe in his grasp.

he holds your hips tighter, not like you had a chance against his strong grasp, “i already am, was — from the very beginning, but god, baby. i just wanna live with your pussy in my face forever,” he moans out, removing the black satin material from you slowly. his fingers play with the sticky substance pulling apart, scooping your essence with his fingers and licking it dry, groaning at how good you taste.

your legs clamp at the sight, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously as you feel yourself drip even more. “cheol…” you prop yourself up on your elbows, admiring your boyfriend as he gets lost in your taste.

“open up for me baby, say ah,” he climbs over you, with your panty scrunched up. you obey, eyes hooded with lust and jaw wide open. he chuckles at the sight, pushing your rolled-up panty into your mouth.

“that’s my good girl, gotta prep you before i stuff those pretty panties up your pretty cunt,” he grabs a hold of your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek, “so fucking gorgeous,”

he pumps two fingers inside you, and your moan gets choked up your throat. “can you taste yourself princess? y’look so pretty with your own panty stuffed in that mouth of yours,” it’s embarrassing how easy his fingers slip in and out of you, and he adds a third, then a fourth finger.

“that pretty cunt just can’t get enough of me huh,” the squelching sounds get faster as he moves his wrist at inhumane speed. the rough movements causing the base of his palm to hit your sensitive nub continuously, and you feel like you’re at your breaking point, letting out cries after cries.

your panty is soaked from your choked out saliva, and you feel tears pricking, it feels too fucking good — “wanna cum baby? not yet you can’t,” he coos, but there’s a sadistic tone to his voice, and you know better than to cum without his consent.

words of plea gets muffled behind your panty, your desperation to cum makes cheol so fucking hard, he’s enjoying it way too much and wants to see how far he can push you.

he removes the soaked fabric from your mouth, making sure you’re able to yell out your safeword in case it gets too much. “think this is ready to go in—” he takes the soaked fabric, before stuffing it in your stretched cunt. “here—fuck baby, your cunt’s so desperate for anything, it sucked it righht in,” he chuckles darkly.

you moan at how full your pussy feels, how the material applies pressure to that spot that makes you weak. cheol starts stroking his own length, on his knees, the pretty sight in front of him makes him sigh in pleasure. his head falls back for a minute, “baby—you’re gonna make me cum—just by laying there looking like the most beautiful piece of artwork,”

hearing his words, you reach up to play with your own tits, wanting to stimulate yourself even more. “that’s right baby, play with yourself for me—looking like my pretty desperate slut,” he bites his bottom lip, letting out an animalistic groan, hands eager to chase his own release.

“to-touch me please, need to feel you. please cheol,” you cry out, eager to do anything for him to just fuck you already. cheol moans, sweat dripping down his chest, before shooting his release all over your tummy to your stuffed pussy. “fuuuuck..so fucking beautiful baby, covered with my cum,” a surge of possessiveness overcomes him as he takes swipes of his cum with his fingers, forcing them down your throat.

you suck and swallow eagerly, ever so enthusiastic in showing him what a good slut you are to him. his one and only, only his.

cheol takes the black satin out of your cunt, and looks at your creamy essence that the thin fabric has been doused in. you feel your whole body flush, suddenly feeling so small under him. “nothing to be embarrassed about baby, you’re perfect,” he gives you a kiss—a wet and sloppy one, before flipping you over, grabbing your legs and propping you up on your knees.

”now it’s time for me to reward my pretty baby—for being so good, looking so fucking pretty with her panties filling her up,” he pushes his already hard again length inside you, hands gripping onto your ass so tight to get a hold of himself.

”aarrgh, cheol, so good—so so good,” you feel cold numbing relief wash all over you, heart rate picking up—finally feeling him inside you. gripping your sheets, you arch back, pushing yourself back—greedy to feel more of him.

his strong hands grip onto your hips so tight you can already foresee the bruises in the mirror later, and that does nothing but make you moan even louder. “yeah?” he gives a hard smack across your cheeks, the jiggle making him pound even harder inside you. “look so good bent over on your knees for me, made for me weren’t you,”

“y-yes cheol, fuck—“ he feels that familiar pulse around his cock. knowing that he didn’t let you cum earlier, he knows you deserve nothing but to cum right now. and he also knows that you’re his good girl that will only cum on his command.

”cum. cum for me now baby, remind me what a good slut you are for me, hmm?” he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles in an insane speed, knowing just what you need to reach your high.

and you snap. seeing stars in front of you, you scream out, and the pleasure bleeds into the pain of cumming so hard—before all you can feel is the gratification of blissful release.

cheol slows down, before pumping himself and releasing himself for the second time all over your ass marked red with his handprints.

you both still for a moment, before collapsing on your backs.

he leans in to give you a peck, “you did so well for me baby, bath time?” you nod slowly, exhausted, reaching your arms up for him to carry you.

roommate turned boyfriend!cheol is always the sweetest; and the nastiest(affectionately) in bed and catching him getting off to you may’ve been the best accident ever!

A/N: my endings are aws…subpar..horrible..ANWS. I HOPE U LIKE IT @ anon,, and i hope i did panty stuffing justice. if u liked it, feel free to like/rb/comment how u felt abt it <3 ALRIGHT I LOVE U GUYS BYE 💋🍒

[winterarmyy]

A Fucking Treasure

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A date gone wrong? Same old, same old. But, having Bucky pinning her against the wall, now that’s new.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.1k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fingering, nipple play, marking kink(?), multiple orgasm, praise kink, dry wet humping, cum eating(?), p in v, going in raw, creampie and well you know me, i can’t write smut without some sort of angst or fluff, so yeah, body insecurities, super sweet bucky but also needy and insatiable bucky.

Inspiration: i was mentioned by @mercurial-chuckles in her Smutty September Fest post and some of the prompts fit nicely with one of my wip. Btw, thank you for tagging me! I feel included 💕

Prompt number: #5 body worshipping + #16 accidental i love you’s during sex

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to the kitchen, but the quiet hum of the refrigerator was enough to mask the sound of his movements. The dim light from the hallway barely reached the living room, casting long shadows across the area.

It has been a routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night, the nightmares of his memories haunting his sleep, dragging him back into the darkest corners of his past. He was used to it. But tonight was different. There were no memories clawing at him, no ghosts whispering in his ear. Instead, his mind was consumed by thoughts of her.

He wished to hold her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, to trace the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. He longed to pull her close, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent, to hear the soft, steady rhythm of her breath as she slept beside him. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine; a yearning so deep it bordered on desperation. 

So he decided to clear his head, avoiding letting his head stay in the gutter.

He let out a sigh, not one of sadness, but of suppressed desire, the kind that made his heart race and his cock stirred. As he reached for a glass, something caught his eye; a silhouette on the couch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure lying there, motionless, as if the day had been too much to bear.

It was Y/N.

Confusion clouded his mind. She wasn’t supposed to be here. 

A few hours ago, she’d been dressed to kill, draped in that black satin dress that clung to her in all the right places. The sweetheart neckline framed her delicate collarbones; the softness of her cleavage was bare for him, and the high slit teased him with every step she took. He had admired her silently, his gaze dark with something he didn’t dare voice. The way the fabric had caressed her skin, the soft curve of her shoulders, the way the dress accentuated her body; he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

She was breathtaking.

They had made eye contact, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. His gaze was feral, full of unspoken want, yet his lips remained sealed tight, trapping the words he wanted so desperately to say. If she had super hearing, she’d have heard the low, approving hum that rumbled deep in his throat. But then, the moment shattered. His heart broke a little when he heard her mention to Natasha that she was going on a date. The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of him.

He had been sitting at the kitchen counter at that time, listening as Sam and Natasha hyped her up, teasing her about how lucky her date was going to be. Bucky stayed quiet, forcing himself to look away, fighting the jealousy that gnawed at him. It wasn’t fair; he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her with someone else, someone who could give her everything he couldn’t; it was unbearable.

But now, she was here. Alone.

Sleeping on the couch in the same sinful dress that had driven him to distraction earlier. But the sight of her now was different. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes puffy and red. It was clear she had been crying, and the sight of it twisted something deep within him.

Gently, he knelt to her level. He knew she was a light sleeper, so he approached with care, his metal fingers brushing softly against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment they met his, they were filled with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

Bucky's voice was a low murmur, intimate and tender. “What are you doing sleeping here, babydoll?”

Her cheeks reddened, the flush deepening as she realised he was seeing her at her most unfiltered state. The thought made her heart race, and the way he spoke, so close and personal, only made it worse. The intimacy of the moment was too much.

She gathered herself, sitting up with a sigh. “I didn’t plan to… I was just…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression softened into one of sadness as the memories of the evening came flooding back.

It had started off well enough. They had connected online, his messages charming and full of wit, making her think that maybe, just maybe; this could be something. But the moment she met him in person, she noticed a shift. The easy smile he’d worn in his profile pictures seemed a little tighter, the warmth in his eyes dimmed.

As they sat across from each other at the restaurant, she couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting downwards. His eyes lingered a little too long on the exposed parts of her chest, his attention fixating on the stretch marks that she usually tried so hard to ignore. She had seen the change in his expression; the way his gaze hardened, a slight frown creasing his brow, followed by a low scowl that he probably thought she couldn’t hear.

Then, out of nowhere, he just left. No explanation, no goodbye; just a curt excuse about needing to use the restroom, and then he was gone, leaving her alone at the table with a half-finished meal and a hollow ache in her chest.

She knew why he left. She had seen that look before, the way his eyes lingered on her stretch marks, the way his expression shifted from interest to disdain. It was the same with most of the guys she went on dates with. The moment they saw the imperfections, they would withdraw, their interest waning before her very eyes.

She knew they hated the stretch marks on her skin, found them hideous. It was in the way their eyes would momentarily widen in surprise, followed by a barely concealed grimace. She could see the discomfort in their expressions, the way they quickly looked away as if trying to erase the image from their minds.

At first she always thought stretch marks were normal. It was human nature, a part of life, a testament to growth and change. She had tried to embrace them, reminding herself that they were natural, that everyone had imperfections. But each time she saw that look of disgust, it chipped away at her resolve, making her question everything she’d tried so hard to believe. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t normal. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have them. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with her.

She didn’t even know how she got back home. The memory was a blur, a haze of tears and jumbled thoughts. She remembered crying, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks as she stumbled out of the restaurant. But the rest was an utter fog. Did she walk home? She couldn’t remember. The city lights and the sound of her own sobs were all that lingered in her mind. It was as if her body moved without her conscious thought, carrying her back to the one place where she didn’t have to pretend everything was okay.

Bucky waited, his eyes searching hers, but she remained silent, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. He could see the sadness lingering in her expression, and it didn’t take much for him to piece together that the date hadn’t gone well. A part of him was furious; how could anyone make her feel like this? She deserved to be cherished, not hurt. If it were him… if only she were his… He clenched his jaw at the thought, forcing himself to stay calm.

But, he knew better than to push her to talk about it. Instead, he simply reached out and took her hand in his, his touch gentle yet reassuring. “You must be tired. How about we get you to bed, hmm?” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that made her heart ache.

She nodded, still too caught up in her thoughts to speak. They walked in silence, Bucky leading the way while she followed just a step behind. Her eyes drifted down to their hands; knitly intertwined. His hand felt warm, comforting in a way that made her wish she could stay like this forever. The truth was, she didn’t even know why she kept trying to go out and date other men when the one she truly craved was right here, holding her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

But then, the doubts crept in, as they always did. She was self-sabotaging, she knew that. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t good enough for him, that he could never truly want someone like her. Someone who didn’t have Natasha’s confidence, her grace, her perfect everything. Why would he look at her the way she longed for him to, when he could have someone like that?

Despite all her doubts, she couldn’t ignore the way his touch made her feel. 

Safe. 

Wanted.

Y/N almost bumped into Bucky’s back when he suddenly stopped. She blinked in surprise, realising they had already arrived at her room. “Oh, we’re here”, she thought to herself, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Bucky turned slightly, his gaze dropping to their still-intertwined hands before he gently led her to the door.

“Will you be alright, doll?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. His thumb moved in slow, comforting circles on the back of her hand, a gesture so natural it was almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

She nodded, but her response was barely more than a whisper. “Yeah…”

She tried to sound convincing, but her voice wavered, betraying the turmoil swirling inside her. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, she was caught in the warmth of his gaze. Bucky looked at her with such tenderness, such genuine care, that it made the butterflies flutter wildly within her.

Bucky took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. His free hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with pure adoration. As he touched her, his fingers lingered slightly, savouring the softness of her skin. 

He took in every detail: her eyes, even puffy and red from crying, held a beauty that made his heart go mushy. The tears that had streaked down her cheeks were a testament to the raw emotion she was feeling, a vulnerability he wished to protect. Her skin was delicate, and the way her lashes brushed against her flushed cheeks. Despite the distress she was experiencing, she was still incredibly beautiful in his eyes.

Bucky’s gaze finally settled on her pink, pouty lips, he felt an overwhelming urge to press his own lips against hers, if not to comfort her, then to taste the sweetness that he imagined was there. The thought of kissing her once, just once; seemed to consume him. He couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincere admiration, hoping to convey just how deeply he felt about her.

But Y/N’s reaction was not what he expected. The words, rather than warming her, seemed to chill her further. She didn’t think he was insulting her by blatantly lying to her face; she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that he truly meant it. It sounded to her like a polite gesture, just another way of saying something nice in the face of her misery; a form of lip service.

Her lips twisted into a small, almost imperceptible frown, and she quickly looked away, her gaze falling to the floor. It was as if her brain refused to process the sincerity in his tone, unable to reconcile his words with the image she had of herself.

She scoffed, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Yeah, thanks,” she said, unable to fully accept the compliment.

Bucky’s hand stilled on hers, his thumb halting its comforting motion as her response sank in. He was taken aback, not by any notion of insult, but by the realisation that she didn’t seem to believe the sincerity of his words. His brows furrowed with concern, and he stepped even closer, his body nearly touching hers. His hands came back to gently hold her face, tilting it up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet tender. “You are beautiful. You always are.”

He searched her eyes, silently pleading with her to see herself through his eyes. His tone was unwavering, full of the affection he felt for her. 

But even as she looked into those blue eyes, the doubts that clouded her mind made it hard to fully accept his compliment. She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that Bucky’s words were anything more than a kind attempt to cheer her up. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to process. Even if his compliments were meant to lift her spirits without fully reflecting his true feelings, she appreciated his kindness more than she could express.

A soft, fond smile appeared on her lips as she took in his earnest expression. “You’re so sweet,” she murmured, her voice tender. Gently, she stood on tiptoe, reaching up to pull him closer. With a delicate touch, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Her lips lingered there for a brief moment, and she whispered against his skin, her breath warm, “Thank you for saying that, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart pounded wildly in his chest as Y/N’s lips brushed against his cheek. The soft, lingering touch of her kiss, combined with the faint, intoxicating scent of her perfume, overwhelmed his senses. But when she pulled away, he felt a rush of heat flood through him, his control slipping. 

Overcome by an intense wave of feelings, Bucky pulled her back to him with a force and urgency that surprised even him. As he did, he could feel the warmth of her soft body pressing against his own, her delicate form moulding perfectly against him. He snuggled into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent, which seemed to envelop him entirely.

His lips found her neck, and he kissed her with a fervour that spoke of his overwhelming need. Each kiss was infused with a deep, desperate longing that he could no longer contain. Y/N didn’t push him away; instead, she clung to him, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, as if seeking comfort and reassurance in his embrace. The contact between them was electric, and the soft moans that escaped her lips only fueled his desire further.

When she leaned in closer, a low, guttural growl escaped Bucky. He responded eagerly as he sucked gently on her skin, enjoying the taste of her as his hands roamed over her back and sides, his touch possessive and desperate. His palms pawed at every curve he could reach, exploring her with a need that bordered on frantic.

Y/N’s moan was soft, a sound that almost drove him further into the depths of his desire. But as the sound of her pleasure reached his ears, reality hit him like a splash of cold water. He realised what he had done; his actions were driven by raw, sinful need rather than the tenderness he had intended; that she deserved. The realisation struck him hard, making him feel as though he had somehow taken something that wasn’t his to claim. 

So he pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he stammered, his voice heavy with contrition. “I didn’t mean—”

But then, it was as if time slowed, allowing him to savour every delicate moment. As he pulled away, the sight that greeted him was almost more than he could handle. The tiny strap of her dress had slipped from her shoulders, revealing even more of the gentle curve of her cleavage, her doe-like eyes were fixed on him; hazed and heavy with emotion, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, “Bucky…?”

The rush of desire he was so desperately trying to hold off, surged back through him, intensified by the vulnerability displayed before him. Bucky was barely able to maintain control. His heart raced, and the urge to be close to her again, to touch her, became nearly unbearable. In a moment of desperation and need, he guided her into her room, almost too urgent, too needy.

Once inside, Bucky pinned her gently against the door, his body pressing close to hers as he closed it with a soft click. His arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and electrified. The intensity in his gaze was palpable as he looked down at her, the hunger in his eyes undeniable.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he growled, his voice low and raw with yearning. “Please, let me touch you.”

His plea was a mix of desperation and want, a testament to how deeply he felt for her, even as he grappled with the boundaries he had momentarily crossed. The room was filled with an electrifying silence, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing and the lingering intensity of the moment.

The voice she let out was almost too quiet, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “You want to touch me?” The question was almost a whisper, her eyes searching his ocean blues for the truth.

Bucky’s response was immediate, driven by the urgent need that surged through him. When his body responded faster than his words. He pressed his hardened bulge against her thigh, the physical evidence of his desire unmistakable. “Hmm, I wanna touch you, kiss you… want you so bad,” he murmured, his voice thick with desperation and lust.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the feeling of him against her, and her own passion began to match his intensity. “Touch me, Bucky,” she breathed out, her voice trembling with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. “Want you too. Want you all over me.”

His response was immediate. Bucky crashed his lips onto hers in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together as moans and groans filled the space between them. He effortlessly lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the bed. The heat between them was unfiltered, and as he laid her down, his hands were already working to strip himself of his clothes.

With a sensual precision, he unzipped her dress, whispering praises against her skin. But as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, revealing more of her body, she hesitated. Her hands moved to cover her breasts, instinctively hiding the marks she had always felt so self-conscious about. The events of the night had taken their toll, and though she wanted to believe him, doubt crept in.

Bucky noticed the shift in her eyes, the uncertainty that dimmed her earlier confidence. He paused, his gaze softening as he gently coaxed her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, doll,” he murmured, his voice tender and reassuring. “You’re safe with me.” his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her skin as he waited for her to continue.

She hesitated, then took a deep breath, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “It’s just… the stretch marks,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “My date tonight, he left because of them. It’s happened before, and I—I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling like they’re… ugly.”

Bucky’s heart twisted at her words, anger flaring briefly at the thought of anyone making her feel this way. But he forced himself to remain calm, to be the comfort she needed. His thumb brushed the underside of her breast, sending shivers down her spine as he tried to ease her worries. “Well, aren’t I lucky to have these all to myself?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

She whined softly, her tone serious. “I’m being serious, Bucky.”

His expression sobered, his brow furrowing with concern. “So am I.”

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “...there is nothing ugly about you. Not your stretch marks, not anything. I’m so sorry those idiots couldn’t see that. But I do. And I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He watched as her defences slowly crumbled, her eyes searching his; for any sign of insincerity, but finding none. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice wavering.

Bucky’s lips curled into a tender smile, “I’m very sure, Y/N. You have no idea how obsessed I am with you. All of you.” his hands gently pried hers away from her chest, revealing the parts of her that she wanted to hide the most. The sight before him made his cock twitch, arousal leaking from the tip as he took her in, completely captivated. “And these stretch marks?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper as his fingers traced over the marks on her skin. 

Y/N’s body responded instinctively. A shiver ran through her, her breath hitching at the sensation of his touch. The warmth of his hand contrasted with the coolness of the air, making her skin tingle where he caressed her. 

“Fuck, I love them.” His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as he continued, “They’re proof of how your body adapts, changes, grows. It’s like your skin’s telling a story, and every line, every mark, is beautiful.” He pressed a kiss against one of the marks, his lips lingering as he added, “You’re a masterpiece, babydoll, every inch of you.” His words were heavy with pure hunger, his admiration clear as he looked up at her, eyes dark with passion.

Bucky's breath was warm against her skin, the contrast between his sweet words and the raw hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. As he leaned in, his lips brushed softly over the stretch marks he had just praised, and then his kisses deepened, becoming more fervent. He trailed his mouth along the curve of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin before he began to suck, leaving his own mark on her as if staking a claim.

Her body responded instantly, arching toward him, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. The combination of his hot mouth on her breast and the cool metal of his fingers tracing circles on her other nipple sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. His metal thumb and index finger rolled the sensitive bud, each movement sending a jolt of sensation that made her gasp, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts.

Bucky didn’t stop there. He switched sides, his tongue flicking over her other nipple before capturing it between his lips, sucking and nibbling in a way that made her toes curl. Every touch was deliberate, meant to drive her wild, and it was working. Her hands found their way into his hair, tugging gently as if to anchor herself to reality amid the whirlwind of pleasure he was creating.

As his mouth worshipped her breasts, his fleshed hand began a slow descent, sliding across her stomach and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he reached the edge of her panties, he paused, revelling in the moment before pressing his flesh fingers against the soaked fabric. A low, approving growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how wet she was for him, the sound vibrating against her skin and making her moan louder.

He started to rub her clothed pussy with agonising slowness, applying just enough pressure to make her hips buck toward him, seeking more. His thumb found her clit through the fabric, rubbing slow circles that had her whimpering his name, her body begging for more of his touch. 

The dual sensations of his mouth and metal hand on her breasts and his warm fingers rubbing her pussy were too much. She was on fire, her entire body trembling under his touch, her mind lost in the addicting pleasure. Every nerve ending was alive with sensation, her moans growing louder as he increased the pressure, her body responding instinctively to the pleasure he was giving her.

Bucky, too, was lost in the moment. He groaned against her skin, the taste of her driving him insane. The way she reacted to his touch, the way she moaned his name, only fueled his desire. He needed more of her, needed to make her feel just how much he wanted her.

With a growl of pure need, he slid his hand under the waistband of her panties, and pulled the last piece of fabric off her. His fingers find her wet folds, slipping between them. "Fuck, babydoll, you're so wet for me,"  he murmured, his voice rough with passion. The way she responded to his touch only made him more desperate to worship every inch of her.

As his fingers moved inside her, Bucky’s thumb continued to circle her clit, the sensations pushing her closer and closer to the edge. His mouth and metal hand never left her breasts, continuing to tease her nipples until she was writhing beneath him. Her moans were desperate now, her body begging for release, and Bucky was more than happy to give it to her.

He pulled back for a moment, looking up at her with dark, adoring eyes. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered, pressing kisses along her chest. "I love the way you feel. Every part of you is perfect." His praises were soft, sincere, each word filled with pure admiration.

When he curled his fingers just right inside her, she arched off the bed, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her reaction. "Fuck, you’re incredible" he groaned, adding a second finger and feeling her tighten around him. “Love the way you taste, how you feel... hmmm, I need you so bad, Y/N” He was relentless yet tender, his every movement calculated to bring her to the edge of pleasure.

His lips found her breast again, tongue flicking over her nipple as he sucked and kissed her sensitive skin. His free hand never stopped caressing her, moving from her breast down to her stomach, then back to her other nipple, never leaving her wanting. "I wanna hear you scream for me, wanna feel you cum all over my fingers,” he growled between kisses, his words thick with arousal. 

Bucky’s thick fingers worked inside her with deliberate intensity, each thrust pushing deeper into her soaked core. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his movements rhythmic and forceful. With each thrust, her wet juices squirted out, dripping and mixing with his harsh movements. The slick sound of his fingers sliding in and out, combined with the feeling of her arousal, drove him feral. His pace grew faster, his fingers curling and stroking with expert precision, drawing out her moans and cries of pleasure.

Y/N’s body responded to every touch, every word, her hips grinding against his hand as she chased the pleasure he was giving her. She was so close, so desperately close, and when Bucky twisted his fingers inside her, in places she never was able to reach before, and her world exploded in a blinding rush of pleasure. 

Bucky kept hitting that right spot inside her in every deep plunge of his fingers, until he could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the approach of her orgasm. His own need was growing unbearable, the taste of her nipples, the feel of her wet hole, driving him to the brink. He moaned against her breast, his voice thick with arousal as he told her how beautiful she was, how much he needed her, how much he loved the way she felt around him.

As her moans turned into desperate whimpers, he groaned in response. "That’s it, babydoll, let go for me. Let me feel how much you need this, need me," he urged, his voice thick with arousal. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and his fingers pumped faster, pushing her closer and closer. “Cum for me yeah, fucking cum for me that’s it angel.”

“Buckyyyy”, She cried out his name, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Bucky groaned in response, feeling her tighten around his fingers, her pleasure only increasing make his cock throbbed with need.

He continued to move his hand, "So perfect. So fucking perfect." drawing out her orgasm until she was left panting, trembling beneath him. Only then did he finally pull his fingers from her, his hand wet with her arousal, and brought them to his lips, tasting her with a deep, satisfied groan.

Bucky’s own need was reaching a fever pitch, the taste of her, the feel of her soaking wet pussy gripping his fingers was too much to bear any longer. "Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you, can’t wait to make you mine," he moaned, his lips trailing down her body, leaving a path of hot kisses.

Bucky’s cock was almost unbearable as he pressed himself against her, his hard cock sliding between her drenched folds. Every night, he had fantasized about this moment, dreaming of the warmth and wetness of her body. So many nights, he’d ended up frustrated; his cum laid there wasted on his abs as he jerked off to thoughts of her.

Now, finally feeling her hot and wet against him, he was nearly driven mad with raging lust. He groaned softly, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His cock, heavy and throbbing, glided between her folds with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Each stroke elicited a shiver from her, her body sensitive and responsive from their earlier intimacy.

Bucky’s movements were urgent and almost primal. He humped against her, his moans a testament to his pleasure. “Fuck babyyy, you feel so amazing," he rasped, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. "You’re so fucking wet, Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long, and it feels so. fucking. good."

Y/N’s has been a moaning mess under him, her body still tingling from the previous orgasm. The lingering sensations of his thick fingers inside her made every touch feel electric. Now, with his big, thick cock rubbing against her, her pussy twitched and pulsed in response.Each stroke was a jolt of heat, his tip bumping against her clit with every movement. Her hips trembled under his tight grip, her body reacting intensely to the pleasure.

Bucky’s moans were guttural, full of raw need as he lost himself in the sensation. "I’m not even inside you yet, angel," his cock rubbing insistently against her sensitive flesh as he panted, his voice trembling with desperation. "But, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum."

“Hmmm, Bucky… Bucky, please,” she whined, her voice trembling with need. “Feels so good… oh fuck! Cum on me, cum on me please...” Her words were almost incoherent, her pleasure overflowed from within, her body quivering and almost drooling from the way his cock was rubbing against her needy cunt.

Lost in his own world of lust, Bucky couldn’t get enough of her. He worshipped her pussy with a passion that left him breathless, his dirty talk coming out in desperate, needy groans. "You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I can’t get enough of you," he rasped. "You’re driving me insane. I want to mark you, claim you completely."

Their pleasure reached higher, each thrust and touch sending them both spiraling towards their orgasms. Bucky’s thrusts grew harsher, more insistent, as he chanted, “I’m cumming, doll. I’m cumming so hard.” His voice was raw with need, his body moving with a frenzied desire.

She was pleading, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “Please, please, please…” Her words were breathless, each plea a testament to the intensity of their shared ecstasy. “I’m cumming, cumming on you baby, ‘m cummingg fuckkk,,”Bucky whined in absolute pleasure.

As they both came together, Bucky’s release was intense and overwhelming. His cock throbbed and twitched with every spasm, cum spilling endlessly from his tip in hot, thick ropes. Each pulse of his orgasm sent more of his seed dripping down onto her, coating her skin with the evidence of their union.

Even in the throes of his orgasm, Bucky continued to rub desperately against her twitching pussy, his movements frantic and unrelenting. “Still cumming for you, baby, paint you so pretty with my cum,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. The heat and friction were almost too much, his need to feel her and mark her as his luring him to continue. His cum painted a path up to her breasts, the warmth of it a vivid testament to his desire and dominance. 

He marked her completely, his release a physical declaration of his claim.

As Bucky’s release subsided, he looked down at her with eyes still feral and full of desire. She lay beneath him, breathing heavily, her body still quivering from the intensity of their climax. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “So gorgeous, covered with my cream,” he murmured, his voice rough and slow. He lazily rubbed his still-hard cock against her swollen pussy, his movements deliberate and teasing. “Now I’m gonna paint your insides, then fill you to the brim.”

Her whimpers of need were barely coherent. “Please, wanna feel your cum inside me so bad,” she begged, her voice trembling with craving.

Bucky slipped inside her easily, his cock finding its way with a smooth, satisfying glide. “So fuckin’ tight, shittt,” he groaned, feeling the exquisite heat of her around him. His thrusts were powerful and deep, each movement sending waves of pleasure through them both. “Tight little pussy’s mine,” he growled. “You take me so perfect, baby.”

His filthy words gradually transformed into sincere praise, his voice softening with affection. “You’re so good to me,” he panted, his hands exploring her body with tender care. One hand played with her clit, rubbing it with a skilled touch that made her moan and writhe beneath him. The other hand teased her nipple, tugging it gently as he thrust harder and deeper.

And as Bucky continued to thrust into her, the sound of their bodies connecting was raw and unrestrained, each movement accompanied by the slick, wet noises of their joined pleasure. Despite the intensity, their dialogue remained tender and sweet. “I love you, Y/N,” Bucky whispered lovingly, his voice a mix of pleasure and adoration. “I love you so much, doll.”

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Normally, such words would be met with doubt, but the way his cock was filling her completely, the intense pleasure he was giving her, and the look in his eyes—filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing—made it impossible to ignore. 

She moaned in response, her own voice trembling with emotion. “I love you too, Bucky,” she gasped, her words mingling with the sounds of their physical connection. 

Bucky’s thrusts grew more deep and harsh as he neared his climax. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands rubbing a tight circle on her clit and tugging at her nipple. “Now, take my fucking cum.”

When Bucky finally released inside her, the sensation was nothing he ever felt before. He felt so good his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open. His cock pulsing and throbbing with each spasm of his orgasm. His endless cream was flooding her, and with every thrust, it leaked out, creating a hot, sticky mess. The warmth and thickness of his release filled her completely, and the sensation of it escaping with each of his movements made him groan in pleasure.

Even as Bucky reached his high, he continued to fuck her through it, each thrust pushing his cum deeper into her. “You take me so well,” he moaned, his voice thick with emotion and need. Her own pleasure was amplified by the sensation of his cum inside her, her body responding eagerly to each thrust.

Afterward, Bucky remained inside her, relishing the intimate connection. He carefully cleaned the traces of his cum from her skin, his tongue gently licking and slurping it clean. “You’re perfect, babydoll,” he praised between licks, his voice soft and affectionate. “So beautiful, so fucking amazing.” He took his time, his lips brushing against her with care. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he murmured. “You feel so good, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She responded with soft moans and shivers of pleasure, her body reacting eagerly to his touches. Each lick and gentle caress made her quiver, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts as she felt his adoration and need. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of being worshipped so completely.

Occasionally, Bucky would grind into her, savouring the way her pussy tightened around him, deepening his pleasure. “You’re such a fucking treasure,” he continued, his voice a blend of awe and desire. “I can’t get enough of you. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.” She whimpered needily, her body responding to his movements with a mix of pleasure and longing.

He continued to move his hips against her, thrusting with a renewed sense of urgency and need. “It’s gonna be a long night ahead, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination and passion. “I’m not gonna let you leave this bed until the only thing that leaks out of you is me.”

With that, he pressed into her once more, his movements both firm and tender, as he prepared for another round of intense, passionate connection.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Been collecting dust in my drafts for way too long. Now lemme hear your thoughts. Please? 🥹 And go send @mercurial-chuckles some love!

[kookslastbutton]

When I Say Forever ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Today’s your wedding day and the slightly shy yet handsome, doe-eyed stranger who chased after you when you dropped your wallet on the street three years ago just happens to be the man standing before you today.

Original request: can you please write something about oc's and Jungkook's wedding? Your readers just need to witness it. We would highly appreciate it. Thank you!

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/AU: fluff, smut, wedding au

word count: 4,696

warnings: a cute wedding where jungkook gets emotional and is very eager to be married, they get a little scolded during the ceremony ahaha, jk is romantic and prepares something very special for his lovely bride, mentions of absence of parents on oc's side (nothing gets too deep but I chose to go this route due to the very real factor that parents aren't always around), and finally sexual content bc come on it their wedding night 🥺

sexual warnings: soft dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, explicit s*x, jk asks for consent bc yeah i don't even need to justify it, f*ngering, oral (both m. and f., multiple orgasms, dry humping, t*tty suck, heavy making out, overstimulation, possessive!kook, m*ssionary, c*wgirl, oc claws at his back which jk seems to have a kink for, a little bit of steamy rivalry at the end (just a hint), our kook is attentive even though it gets kinda rough

now playing: My You by jjk

a/n: my you has been one of my on repeat songs and im not sorry. Also, thank you for the request, i hope this is alright! Anyway pls enjoy! ❤

Dozens of cherry blossom trees are sky-high in the air, covering you as you walk down the aisle in the grass. Some of the blush pink and white blossoms shake from branches every few steps to shower over you in a cascading effect. The temperature is also perfect, a steady 68 degrees.

This is why you and Jungkook chose to marry in the spring–it was beautiful.

You look to your left, then to your right. Rows of seats filled with family, friends, and co-workers stare at you in awe. The only two people missing, however, are your parents.

With the passing of your father years ago and your mother's absence in your life since then, your half of the guest list isn’t extensive by any means. It's for those reasons that you both agreed a small wedding would be ideal.

Still, even with the minimized guest list, you find it difficult to hold eye contact with any of them. It's not because you're nervous exactly–you simply don’t believe your reality is real.

Was this another one of your silly dreams?

Are you going to wake up just as you reach the front?

You keep your eyes straight ahead and towards the man who's waiting for you with tightly clasped hands. He makes all your worries melt away in that instant.

No, you remind yourself. This isn't a dream.

The veil you’re wearing drags on the ground behind you and flows over the small train of your delicate, white gown. You chose a form-fitting sheath dress that’s made from the softest satin fabric. Its clean, sharp lines allow the semi-deep-v neckline to appear more elegant than revealing.

The closer you get the more Jungkook’s cheeks wet with his tears. He knew he was going to cry today. But he was hoping it’d happen towards the end so he could see you walking down the aisle to him without his vision blurring.

“Hi,” he whispers to you once you’re fully in front of him. He wipes his face with his thumbs as subtly as he can.

You bow to each other in greeting and, with the request to join hands from your officiant, you hand your bouquet of fresh-cut flowers to your maid of honor and place your hands in his gentler ones.

“Hi,” you reply, equally quiet and with a small smile.

Jungkook’s dark, raven hair parts in the middle with a few strands tastefully out of place. He’s wearing a black, pin-stripped suit with a matching vest and plain black tie. The white dress shirt underneath is buttoned all the way up to the top too and he’s kept all his piercings in, including his lip ring. He’s unbelievably handsome–and he’s yours.

When your officiant begins making the welcome speech, the guests settle down in their seats all at once. Yet you and Jungkook keep whispering to each other as softly as you can.

“You look amazing.” His thumbs rub soothing circles over the top of your knuckles.

“So do you.” Your gaze holds his reddened ones. The fact that he’s still on the verge of tears causes you to form watery eyes as well. But you blink them back. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” He pauses and grins at you. “Did you see who came with whom?” He gives a side-eye, gesturing at Jimin, one of his best men.

“I saw.” You and Jungkook start giggling at once because the person who Jimin brought as his plus one is perhaps the most annoying person in the world to him–your co-worker who’s had an insane crush on him for the last year. They insisted that Jimin be a “gentleman” and show them a good time while at your wedding.

“Do you think they’ll…you know,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively to finish the sentence.

Jungkook shakes his head lightly. “I don’t know, maybe. I can’t really bother to think about who’ll sleep with who when you’re gonna be the one under me tonight.”

Though he says it with the most sincere tone, more endearing than flirty, you swallow hard. It’s not your first time with Jungkook but you’re unsure what to expect tonight. You’ll be his wife after this.

“Why do you get to top?” you mouth.

Jungkook gives a half-smirk.“Why do you pretend to hate it?”

You open your mouth to form a response but the harsh clearing of a throat behind Jungkook orders you to stop.

“Everyone-ahem-can hear you,” Taehyung coughs. “Stop it for god sake.”

“Yes, if the bride and groom could please save the after-wedding affairs for later, we can move forward with the ceremony. Thankfully I don't see many children in the crowd today,” the officiant adds as humorously as she can and the crowd chuckles.

Oh god. You bite down on your tongue to keep from embarrassing the two of you further.

Once your officiant is able to finish her welcome speech she turns her attention to you. "__ do you want to marry Jungkook, to be your husband, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always? 

"I do. Yes."

She looks at Jungkook afterward. "Jungkook do you want to marry __, to be your wife, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always? 

He stares at you, wordless for a moment as every memory between the two of you hits him like a tidal wave. His hand starts shaking in yours, and tears start spilling from his eyes again.

"You okay?" You whisper and this time it's your turn to rub soothing circles on his hands, calming him down.

"Yeah," he sniffs. "I just never imagined myself to be standing here today. I love you so much."

Your officiant decides it's best to wait for the right time to speak but Jungkook smiles at her softly. "That means yes by the way," he jokes and the guests laugh in unison.

She turns to the ring bearer, aka Namjoon's eight-year-old son who stands on Jungkook's left by his father. "May we have the rings please?"

The boy walks over to her, hands over the small gold bands, then returns to his previous position.

"The couple will now exchange rings as a symbol of their love and devotion. I understand they have prepared their own vows thus binding promises to love, honor, and cherish one another. __, please place this ring on Jungkook’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

You take the ring and begin slipping it on Jungkook's finger. "They say when you marry someone you become one. You consider each other in every decision, make compromises for the other, and be the strength when the other cannot. We've been together for three years now Jungkook, doing those exact things and I couldn't fathom stopping now. I love you and I promise I'll always be here next to you, however and whenever you need."

"Jungkook," your officiant hands him your ring. "Please place this ring on __’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

"When I saw you years ago, waiting at the crosswalk, I thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing person I'd ever seen in my life." He puts the ring on your fourth finger. "And then you dropped your wallet and it gave me the best opportunity to approach you. Little did I know, the sight of a man running after would make you run too. But you took my number in the end and three years later, the love of my life is standing before me. Everything I am and have belongs to you __, always and forever."

Your officiant smiles at you both as Jungkook struggles to keep his distance from you a few seconds longer. He's been waiting for this very moment since the day you agreed to be his boyfriend. He just can't take it any longer!

"In the presence of...oh for the love of might," your officiant stops mid-sentence when she sees Jungkook shuffling his feet closer and closer towards you. "Never in my twenty years of performing marriages have I seen a groom this eager to get married. Go ahead and kiss your wife hun! Mr. and Mrs. Jeon Jungkook everyone!"

Massive grin on his face, Jungkook grabs your waist and dips you low into a romantic kiss. The crowd goes wild at the dramatic gesture, whistling and clapping behind you.

After about a million more tears, speeches, first dances, a surprise song preformed by the wedding party, and Jungkook practically ripping off the lace garter around your thigh with his teeth, the wedding festivities come to an end. But not before you both find yourself being guided to a secret place led by Taehyung.

The wedding party insisted you be blindfolded beforehand. So here you are, almost pitch black out and clinging to Jungkook's arm.

"I don't understand why I need to be blindfolded and you don't," you say.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "Maybe they got you a gift or something."

"We're here! Stop!" You hear Taehyung shout from a few feet ahead and Jungkook freezes in place. You're body jolts forward a little with the sudden pause.

"__." Jungkook calls your name softly. "Open your eyes."

You flutter your lids open and at first, the sight before you is hazy as you adjust to the night sky. But then, your jaw drops to the ground.

In front of you is a charming river surrounded by perfectly arched cherry blossoms with lanterns hanging from the branches. All the lanterns illuminate the entire length of the stream, including around the bends and curves. At the edge of the stream is a small dock where a wooden row boat floats with a set of oars inside.

"Oh my god." Your eyes trail as far down the river as you can. You've only ever seen this in movies, so you're incredibly overwhelmed by the sight. "Jungkook, are we-are we going in there?"

He watches as you openly gape at the scene in front of you. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

You whip your head in his direction. "Are you kidding? It's amazing! Did you know about this?"

His big grin tells you everything you need to know.

"He planned everything himself," Namjoon speaks up. "Come on, your boat's waiting. It'll take you all the way to one of the best hotels in Seoul. I know you're going on your honeymoon tomorrow but we thought a night up in a five-star hotel might be nice. Unless you want to go back to Jungkook's house of course but...we kinda already grabbed your suitcases for the trip and had them put in your room."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious __."

You snake your arms out Jungkook's arm and swing them around him. "I can't thank you enough for doing this, Joon."

He places a gentle hand on your upper back. "Of course, but like I said. Jungkook planned everything so you should thank him more than me." He laughs and breaks away from you when he sees the younger man eyeing the two of you excruciatingly close. "I think your husband would like you back now."

Jungkook comes up behind you and sneakily slips your hand in his tatted one. "Are you ready?" He gestures towards the boat.

You nod and he pulls you towards the dock, helping you into the boat first when you approach it. He sits across from you after and grabs the oars of the boats, lowering them into the water one at a time.

"Wait!" Taehyung lunges over the edge of the boat with something small and black in his palm. "Don't forget this." He clips a tiny microphone to his shirt and you scrunch your eyebrows.

"What's this about?" You ask.

Taehyung only half-smirks at you and backs away from the boat. "We'll see you when you come back from the honeymoon okay? Have fun! But please, for the sanity of us all, don't text us any details. In the words of the wise, keep the private things private!"

Jungkook laughs and starts rowing the boat forward and down the stream. You, on the other hand, wave goodbye to everyone as you drift further and further away from the dock.

"So, husband," you sit with your elbows on your knees. "What's the mic for?"

Jungkook doesn't reply but shushes you instead. He tests the mic a couple of times before soft music comes from either side of you. Apparently, there are stereos lined down the banks of the river.

When he starts singing, you cover your mouth in overwhelming joy.

"Summer has already spread in the air

Breeze is already blowing.

The last cold snap is going out

The days were getting longer and longer

But my days were still going on and on and on

I got wet in the sunshower, I looked up at the night sky..."

At this moment the lanterns start twinkling, reflecting like raindrops in the water. You look all around you, taking in the change of atmosphere. Jungkook's cool eyes focus on you intently as he continues serenading you.

"It was quite a lonely night

In the blink of an eye, the dark faded out

Blooming under the sunlight

Memories with me and you..."

The boat rows left and you peer over your shoulder. Taehyung and the rest of the wedding party are barely visible by now. When you look ahead again, you see that you're about to go under a stone bridge. On the other side are more cherry blossom trees and a glimpse of downtown Seoul.

"All these lights are colored in by you

All these times are precious due to you

Four seasons have passed with you

Four scents were left 'cause of you

All the reasons why I can laugh out

All the reasons why I sing this song

Thankful to be by your side now

I'll try to shine brighter than now..."

Jungkook rows the two of you closer to the city as he finishes his song, passing a number of other couples taking night strolls together. The wind blows a little but it doesn't make you shiver at all—his voice warms your soul.

And when you lean in to kiss him once the boat reaches the dock near the hotel, fingers grazing his cheeks, your body yearns to be near his.

It takes little to no time for the two of you to find your hotel room. Jungkook swipes your keycard in the door and in you both go, your hand shamelessly yanks at his tie.

He presses you up the back of the door once it's locked shut and kisses you with a fiery passion. It's different from all the other times; neither rough nor soft, as he sucks on your bottom lip, eagerly begging to deepen the kiss.

"Kook," you let out a muffled moan when his tongue finds its way into your mouth. It's a wrestle at first, your tongues toying with each other. And once you get the hint that he's not about to back down you start threading your fingers through his hair.

"I love it when you do that," he groans and pushes himself against your body, grinding his growing bulge against your center.

You whine against his lips and grind your hips back into his. "I know you do," you tease and a strong pair of hands wander your waist before traveling behind to grip your ass.

You yelp when he squeezes your cheeks and starts rutting himself into you faster. He moves his pillowy lips to the side of your neck too, peppering you with kisses from the the sensitive area right below your earlobe and all the way down to your collarbone.

"Fuck," he grunts, nothing short of frustrated, when your dress stops him from kissing down any further. The hands gripping your ass move up to find the zipper of your gown. "Please, baby, can I remove it?"

"Yes, go ahead," you nod and retract your hands from his hair to let the gown fall off your shoulders. Jungkook watches lustfully as your bare breasts are revealed to him little by little. He's seen them a million times but each time is always like his first, his eyes never fail to dilate.

"Perfect," you hear him whisper under his breath. And when the gown pools to the ground around your feet with a heavy thump, he can't hold himself back any longer.

He needs you.

One by one he starts tearing off his suit jacket, then his vest and leather belt until he's left standing in nothing else left except his black underwear. His muscles bulge without even having to flex and his pecs are more than solid.

If he weren't the love of your life, you'd say he was damn intimidating. Yet the pleasure you get from simply viewing his perfectly toned body is ridiculous and what pushes you further is the gold band wrapped around his fourth finger.

Jungkook must be feeling the same as his hands are back on your hips in the seconds following, pushing you to the wall adjacent to the door and attacking the area near your collarbone again with his plushy lips. You whine when his large pecs rub against your pebbled nipples.

"God what have you been lifting these day Jeon? Half of Seoul?" You rest your hands on his biceps which tense at the touch.

"Uh uh," he tsks in response. "Can't call me that anymore. We share the same name now." He kisses your shoulder then moves his mouth over to a nipple. He licks one first, teasing it with the tip of his tongue until you moan for him to keep going.

"You have such soft boobies," he comments before finally sucking on one. Your head falls back from the pleasure it sends up your spine.

"Do you have to say it like that?"

He switches to the other breast, licking and sucking it firmly like the he'd done previously. "What's wrong with boobies? I like the word."

You chuckle and decide to let him have his fun. Pick you battles __, you hum to yourself.

Jungkook tugs at the string of your underwear after placing one last kiss atop each boob. He slowly pulls the thin material down your legs at your consent and you step out from them.

"Lean against the wall and throw your leg over my shoulder," he tells you on bended knees.

You do as he says, swinging a leg over his shoulder. The movement has his head face to face with your cunt which is not in the least bit dry from all the teasing and grinding earlier.

Jungkook sticks a finger in his mouth, wetting it with his spit and then rubs it back and forth between your folds. The lubrication mixes with your own arousal.

"Jungkook," you whine when he doesn't sink his finger in right away, despite the fact that you're well prepared for it.

He blinks at you through his lashes with a devious smirk. "What?" He asks. "You don't like this?"

"I do but I need more. Please," you beg. "Fingers. In me. Please."

He groans at the way your voice seems to crack the more you beg. Well, he's made you wait long enough. Jungkook pushes his finger into your velvet walls all at once, dragging it back and forth in search of your sweet spot.

He knows he's found it when you instantly buck your hips and the leg that's over his shoulder reflexively clamps down on him.

"Right here?" He curls his finger inside you and it has your pussy already throbbing for him. You don't even have to ask for a second finger before he does the honors himself, sliding another into you then proceeding to make a scissoring motion with both digits. "Or here?" He asks again.

"Anywhere," you barely make out through your gasps. "Just don't stop what you're doing."

"What if I wanna lick your pussy?" He pumps his fingers faster all while maintaining focus on your face. "Make you come all over my tongue."

"God Kook, do whatever you want," you reply and it's all the push he needs to remove his fingers from out of you to replace it with his mouth. "Fuck!" You cry as he desperately licks long stripes up your slippery folds, tongue dipping inside for additional pleasure.

He repeats the motion several times until he decides its not enough and sucks on your clit.

"Oh, that feels so good, fuck, fuck Jungkook," you moan with eyes closed and a shaky breath.

Your legs start trembling as your first orgasm of the night builds inside. It gets closer and closer as Jungkook works faster and faster before finally, the cord inside you breaks free.

Jungkook happily swallows as much of your cum as he can. He uses his wrist to wipes his mouth after, cleaning up any leftover.

"First time eating my wife out," he starts, guiding your leg over his shoulder back on the ground. "What a fucking turn on."

Jungkook stands up and pulls you into an embrace with both hands, your bare bodies press tight against each other. Then, without any warning, he swoops up your legs with one hand supporting your lower back and lifts your into his arms.

"Kook!" You call his name in suddeness of the action.

"Yes? What is it wife?" He carries you to the large, king size bed that's covered in rose petals and lays you on top. His handsome face leans over you with careful, attentive eyes while a hand reaches for one of the soft pillows nearby to slip under your head.

It's now that the weight of the moment hits you, as if you've just doven off a steep cliff and head first into the rushing rapids of the ocean.

"I love you," you say.

Jungkook sticks his thumbs in the band of his underwear and pushes it down until he can easily remove them. He's fully hard when he crawls over top of you after, and places his hands on either side of your head.

"I love you too." He lowers his head to capture your lips into a deep kiss. "Now," he continues, sitting up on his knees and shimmying his thighs up your frame. "I think I might need some help here."

He grips his pulsating length, tan tip leaking with pre-cum. You widen your mouth gladly and he shoves his length to the back of your throat.

"Mm!" You gag but to say you hate it would be a lie.

Jungkook doesn't move at first, letting you get used to the weight of his cock on your tongue first. He bites his lip as you hallow your cheeks the best you can.

"I don't want to come, I just want it wet okay?" He tells you and you nod in understanding. "Fuck, so good," he lets out a throaty growl after the first thrust.

You suck him as hard as you can as he fucks your mouth at a steady pace, making sure his cock will be nice and well-lubricated with your spit this time.

"Can't believe we're married," he thrusts faster, teeth clenching together. "My wife, mine forever. No one else can have you. I won't let them."

You blink your glassy eyes at him, thighs struggling to rub together due to the arousal pooling between your legs for the tenth time tonight.

You love him so fucking much.

Jungkook pulls himself out of your mouth while you're in thought, a string of spit following. He backs himself down your body until he can properly hover over you in a straddling position.

"Legs up," he commands and you wrap them around his waist in a criss-cross position. His wetted length finds your entrance with little guidance and pushes forward, stretching your walls so deliciously well.

"Oh my god," you shudder as his cock sinks all the way in thanks to both of you being incredibly worked up and lubricated. Your hands fly under his arms after two thrusts, to grip his back. "Fuck, you're so deep Kook."

"I know, holy shit," he grunts and beats himself into you. He likes the feeling of your body bouncing up and down underneath him so leans down on his elbows to fuck you faster and harder. "I think this might be the deepest I've been in you baby, so wet for me—fuck!"

He moans loudly when your nails claw his back. "Shit I'm sorry!" You relax your fingers immediately when he winces at the slight pain.

"No," he nips at your jaw. "I like it, keep doing it. Mark me up." He snaps his hips into yours and you claw at his back again, harsher than the last time; not enough to hurt him but enough to make him moan in your ear over and over again.

"Jungkook! Too much," you pant as he burries his head in your neck, trailing hot open mouth kisses to the area. "It's too much, I'm gonna come!"

"Fuck, that's the goal baby!"

"Yeah but, don't wanna come so soo—"

He shuts you up with his tongue shoving between you lips, kissing you with a purpose. You's body squirms at the pleasure and you find yourself clenching around his thick length that yes, twitches in response.

"Three years together and you still think I'll give you one round and call it quits. Since when baby?" He groans as he feels himself achingly close to his high (you too). "Tell me, since fucking when?" He emphasizes once more.

You're too lost in how close you are to your second orgasm to give him an answer.

"That's right, never."

One hard thrust later and you come on his length. It takes little time before he releases in you as well, yet he continues his pace.

"That's one down," Jungkook says, riding out both your orgasms which slowly works you up to another. "Not including any eating out. And if my memory serves our record is five. Don't you think we should surpass that now that we're legally bonded to each other Mrs. Jeon? In sickness and in health was it?"

"I'm still trying to recover from the first two orgasms I had tonight, including the fingering and you relentless dry humping."

"Baby," he coos. "My sweet baby, come here." With both arms Jungkook lifts your body with his until you're both in an upright, seated position. Your legs that were once wrapped around his waist rest on the mattress as he thrust up into your cunt. "Don't you know I just want to make you feel good? Why recover when you can be wrecked so heavenly over and over again?"

You moan and squeeze your hands on his shoulder. Jungkook studies your face, maintaining slow, calculated thrusts into you.

"Come for me again," he says.

And you do, sticky white liquid dripping down to the base of his cock and onto the sheets under you.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?" He smirks. "Let's see you get on all fours now. I'd love to see how well my wife takes it from behind."

You catch him off guard by pushing on his chest and guiding him flat on his back. "Mm no," you refuse him. "I think I'd like to get a taste of my husband as a bottom instead."

Jungkook's cock hardens inside you and his fingers settle around your hips as he smirks up at you. "Go ahead then," he tests. "Try getting yourself off."

"You think I can't do it?" You narrow your eyes and grind forward on his cock, earning you a deep growl from your new husband.

"We'll see how long you'll last before I have to flip you on your back and take over," he spats. "But good luck beautiful."

With a huff and determination in your eyes, you start a strong pace. Jungkook watches you with lustful eyes as you bounce on him– enjoying the show a little too much.

a/n: Thanks for reading! Lmk what you think 🥰

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[itadodori]

best friend!choso who always got excited when you invited him over, not because he wanted to hang out, but because your house was like heaven to him. you had no clue about his obsession with you, which made it easier for him to get away with things. he waited until he knew for sure that you were asleep, then made his move.

choso’s first stop was your room, he made sure to make as little noise as possible when he left the living room— trying not to wake you.

an innocent smile crept on his face when he opened your clothing drawer— looking for something in particular. he’d be lying if he said this was his first time doing this.. it became a routine actually.

anytime you invited him over he’d wait until you fell asleep, then sneak into your room.

“oh these are nice.. must be new.” the black haired man mumbled, running his hands across the silk satin panties you’d just bought from victoria’s secret not too long ago.

choso almost moaned at the sight of it. something about touching the panties where that pretty little pussy rested several times before, had him turned on.

that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from laying on your bed and fucking himself with your panties.

“f..fuck (y/n). pussy’s so tight for me!” by now choso’s head was thrown back, mouth wide, and eyes shut tight. all he could think about was how sexy you would look legs spread and bouncing that pretty little ass back on him.

when his thoughts of you became more vivid, his hands tightened around the tip of his dick. “’m gonna fill you up so good, mama. make you have all my babies.”

he imagined it was your pussy milking him dry when he finally came.. spilling it all over your new panties and your comforter.

too bad he didn’t know you were right outside the door, fucking yourself to the sound of his voice.

all rights reserved ©itadodori ♡

[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 2

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

series summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up. loosely inspired by the tv series one day!

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, titty sucking, blink and youll miss it dry humping (lmk if i missed something)

word count: 5.1k

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A/N: im so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! im so sorry this took so long, this chapter was originally well over 8k so ive just decided to split it, which means the next chapter is pretty much ready maybe ill have it up by wednesday. thank you so much to everyone who interacted, hope you like this. [not beta read!]

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @cafekitsune ! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 18

“i think that’s enough pictures, mum.” y/n held up her arms to shield herself from any more photographs her mother might take. she felt self-conscious enough already, grimacing at every picture, thinking how the flaws glaringly stood out. her parents thought she looked beautiful as always though, and wanted as many photos as possible to keep as memories of their daughter’s special night. only she didn’t want to believe there was anything so ‘special’ about it anyway.

she heard an impatient car honk coming from outside, just in time for her to make her exit. “let me at least take a picture of you and your date.” her well-meaning mother attempted, earning a whine from her daughter, “for the last time he’s not my date.” not really he wasn’t, they were just going as mates, nothing more, she reminded herself as she waved her parents a quick goodbye.

then why did her stomach flutter seeing aegon leaning against his irritatingly green, flashy sports car. taking a drag of his cigarette, his platinum hair was mostly gelled back, few strands allowed to fall to his eyes either fashionably or as a result of hurry. he was dressed simply, black suit and a white shirt. but seven hells did he wear the hell out of that suit, y/n had to admit. he looked neater than usual, the light stubble he usually carried had now been shaved off, his eyes didn’t look nearly as red as she was accustomed to. he even wore dress shoes, when truthfully y/n had been betting on him showing up in his usual jordans.

she couldn’t help but beam as she realised walking towards him, that all this effort he had made for her. aegon hadn’t even wanted to go to their senior prom. he’d said he would simply throw the after-party for the prom back at his mansion, where he wouldn’t be required to ‘come dressed as a penguin,’ in his words. the entire school knew about aegon’s famous ragers by now, and the night of senior prom was guaranteed to be the greatest ‘one-last-hurrah’.

it was y/n who had wanted to go, in order to live the full high school experience before they would be forced to enter the adult world after summer. and there was no one else she would have rather taken to prom. so, after countless hours begging and pleading (and some threatening), aegon finally relented. but his acquiescence hadn’t guaranteed to her that he would even bother following the dress code. yet, here they were.

she was going to comment on what a pleasant surprise it was to see him look like a ‘penguin,’ when she saw the look on his face. his eyes were suddenly alert and his mouth slightly agape, cigarette in his hand forgotten momentarily with his hand hanging still in the air holding it.

“what is it? do i have something on my face? on the dress?” she patted her cheek in alarm, before looking down at her dress. she’d chosen a simple black, satin dress that hugged her just right, pairing it with the deepest red lipstick she could find. she smoothened the front in anxiety, scared her high heels were going to make her trip on the fabric any second.

“no, it’s just...you look nice. very pretty.” her eyes focussed on aegon’s trying to gauge his expression, but his gaze remained transfixed on her figure.

“is it that shocking that i would look pretty, that you have to go and make that face?” she snorted. that snapped aegon’s attention back to her face with an eyeroll, “i didn’t mean it like that and you know it. you look good, would it kill you to just take the compliment?” her lips turned upwards at his words, “yeah i’m just messing with ya.” she tried to hide how the praise made her feel warm inside her chest.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, targaryen. look you’re even wearing the shoes and everything.” aegon grinned at the words giving a quick twirl to show off his full look. “who knew you had it in you?” she teased.

“had to step up my game. can't let my date outshine me, can i?"

date? the word rang in her ears. did aegon think this was an actual date?

“oh, please,” she tried to maintain a cool façade, seemingly uncaring of his words, “i've always outshined you.”

“only because i let you.” he claimed, flashing her one of those lazy half smiles of his that would make her mind wander to what else he was capable of doing with those lips—

she immediately shook her head to get that image out of her mind.

“got you something. well, technically mum got you something” aegon opened the passenger seat of the car, and retrieved from it a beautiful, very expensive looking bouquet. “she wouldn’t let me leave the house without flowers for my date” there it was, that word again, ‘date’!  she thought, astonished as she received them.

did aegon think this was a date? a date-date? was he expecting something? did she expect something? her mind started to race with a hundred things.

she had to clear her throat to bring herself back to the present, “these are beautiful, tell alicent i love them.”

“great, can we go now? i want to get the boring part over with so we can properly party later at my place.”

the prom itself ended up being less dreadful than aegon had been sure it was going to be. aegon spiked the drinks, and then proceeded to get his friends leon and martyn as drunk as possible. it didn’t escape y/n’s notice that aegon himself, was merely buzzed. she even dared to hope for a second that he was limiting his cups out of respect for her, and her very known hatred of his drinking himself into blackouts.

he remained clear-headed enough to laugh about and reminisce with her over their years at the academy. “no, i remember clearly, you’ve never once said sorry about making me fall on my first day.” y/n accused as she attempted to drink the very strong punch aegon had made for her. “and i remember very clearly, you came in my way.”

she narrowed her eyes at his blatant lie. “cunt.” he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at her drunken-vitriol. “and i think that’s quite enough for you.” he grabbed the cup out of her hands in spite of protests. “good gods, aegon targaryen preaching moderation? must be the apocalypse.” she nudged him playfully.

in that moment, smiling and laughing with her best friend, she couldn’t help but realise that this time of their life was coming to an end. come fall, they would be on different sides of the country.

y/n had been accepted at her first choice, sunspear university only weeks ago, but she hadn’t discussed it with aegon. he hadn’t spoken of his plans for university either but helaena had told her that their grandfather was using his pull to get him into the family alma mater, oldtown college.

any time she had attempted to so much as talk about life beyond school with aegon himself though, aegon would get irritated and cagey, eager to shut down any and all conversations about the future. then again she couldn’t blame him, for some reason her first instinct too had been to hide that acceptance letter from him.

yet as they stood there, she had a feeling that he was thinking about the same great uncertainty that lay ahead too. thinking, that their days of being by each other’s side like this every day were numbered.

“come on” he suddenly offered her his arms, getting a puzzled look in return. “you wanted the ‘full high school experience’ right? dancing at prom is kinda the main thing.”

she let him lead her to the dance floor, feeling her cheeks going red. he brought them right in the middle, and when he placed her arms around his neck, his own hands becoming placed around her waist, she couldn’t find a word to say.

couples around them were slow dancing to some song she couldn’t quiet place, and she couldn’t believe that aegon had willingly placed himself in the scene around them. this suit, the shoes, the dancing, the flowers – none of it was remotely close to his scene. yet she had barely heard him complain. she had to give it to him, he had been on his best behaviour because he knew how much the night meant to her.

“thank you,” she finally said, looking at him with adoration in her eyes. “for agreeing to come.”

aegon’s expression was unreadable at first. after a second he seemed like he was going to lean in towards her to say something, when his eye caught something behind y/n shoulder.

she turned her neck to see who it was and felt her heart drop down in her stomach.

cassandra baratheon, the most sought-after girl at school, her golden hair and confident demeanour were hard to miss. y/n looked up to see aegon was transfixed on the tight red dress she wore.

she felt his hands drop from her waist, “get you something to drink?” but he didn’t so much as look at his friend.

“sure” she mumbled, trying to mask her disappointment, but he didn’t wait for a response before he started walking towards the blonde.

she watched as aegon approached cassandra, his charm on full display. y/n sighed, tired of how predictable his routine was. she danced with a few classmates, trying to keep her spirits up, but it wasn’t the same without aegon.

after a while, she grew tired of pretending and slipped out of the ballroom, certain she wasn’t going to be followed by the only person she wanted to be with. she started walking in the direction of her home, too angry to think to call someone to pick her up.

the sound of her heels against the pavement and the chattering of her own teeth from the unexpectedly cold night couldn’t distract her from her woeful thoughts.

she should have expected this, she chided herself. aegon’s attention had always been fleeting, especially when it came to pretty girls. but it still hurt. she had hoped, maybe just for tonight, things would be different. at the beginning of the night he’d been giving her all his attention, and making her feel as if she was the only one who mattered in that room.

yet, he had to go ahead and ruin that, by chasing one more skirt to add to his long list of distractions from anything that could actually matter.

when she reached her house she was grateful her parents had long since gone to bed, not wanting to talk about her night.  she walked up to her room and changed into some comfortable clothes.

she curled up on her bed, but sleep seemed to escape her. she tossed and turned but she could not forget the look on her best friend’s face when he looked at cassandra baratheon, ignoring her. she couldn’t help but wish that the way his eyes trailed down her figure, the open lust with which he watched her, the desire that carried him away from her – she wanted it all to be hers.

it was perhaps the first time she had admitted it to herself. she wanted this, she wanted him and not just as a friend.

her mind then wandered to that one moment of hope she had not dared to let herself dwell on. the way his hands felt rested on her back, how he looked for a split second as if he were going to lean in to her, what might that have felt like if it had been allowed to go on? would he have kissed her? would his lips have felt as soft as they looked? would his tongue—

she didn’t realise when in the middle of all these wandering thoughts her hand had slipped down to underneath her shorts. over the cloth of her panties, she could feel a wetness building as she slowly rubbed the top of her entrance, her imagination building up the tension between her legs.

just as she was getting comfortable though, she got the fright of her life when she heard her window open. “fuck me!” she sat up straight on her bed, clutching her blanket in front of her chest.

she let out an exasperated breath at the now-messy platinum hair glinting in the moonlight, that she could make out even in the darkness of her room. she moved to get up and turn on the lamp next to her bed. the light revealed a slightly different aegon to the one she had left back at the dance, stumbling into her room.

his jacket now gone, his white shirt was untucked and the first few buttons had been left undone (one of them was missing, from what she could tell), the semi-open shirt allowed her to make out lipstick smears trailing his chest. his eyes were red, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to walk straight, told her he’d returned to drinking at his usual pace once she’d made her exit.

“what are you doing here?” she sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, both defensively and because her bra had been long discarded, which left the tank top she wore revealing far too much for her liking.

he almost looked earnest when he answered “came looking for you. you never showed up to the party at my place.”

“yeah, well i don’t like your parties” “sure you do!” he snorted

“no, aegon i don’t! i never have. i only ever come for you and i’m miserable the entire while, and you never notice!”

he looked hurt at her accusation, blinking as if it had never crossed his mind that she didn’t enjoy getting high and causing chaos as much as he did. that hurt quickly turned into anger of his own as he shot back.

“fine, even if you didn’t wanna come to the party, why did you leave prom so early? for weeks it’s all you wanted to do, going to prom. you dragged my ass there and then just ‘puff’ i turn my back for one second, and you’ve disappeared.” he sounded almost as if he felt abandoned, wounded.

“you seemed busy.” she cooly replied.

“busy?” aegon echoed, his brows furrowing. “i was just talking to people.”

y/n shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. “you always do this, aegon. you leave me for the first pretty girl that catches your eye.”

he shook his head as if y/n were being the unreasonable one here “it’s not like that.”

“then what is it like?” she demanded, her voice rising. “because it feels like you’re always looking for a distraction. and tonight, i needed you.” her eyes burned as tears pooled in them. “it was our last night in school. it meant something.”

he flinched at her words, the truth of how much he had bruised her, cutting through the haze of alcohol. “i didn’t mean to—"

“didn’t mean to what? make me feel invisible?” y/n's voice softened, the anger giving way to sadness. “it’s like you don’t care.”

aegon stood there, steadying himself by leaning against the desk, looking deflated. “i do care, y/n. you’re my best friend.” she could tell he was trying, trying to make her see he cared, trying to be a good friend. the fact that he had left his own party simply to come look in on her, hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

but unluckily for him, y/n was tired of his constant trying when she knew it never led to any real change.

she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “we need to talk about something else, too. we’ve been avoiding it all year.”

aegon looked up at her, confusion and apprehension mingling in his eyes. “what do you mean?”

“college, aegon. you’re going to oldtown, and i’m headed to sunspear,” y/n said, her voice trembling slightly. “i’ve tried to bring it up, but you always change the subject.”

he looked away from her, fiddling with the rings on his fingers almost anxiously. “because i don’t want to think about it.”

“well too bad, because we have to discuss it” she insisted. “this is big. we’ve never so much as spent one summer break apart, you’ve dragged me to every family vacation and christmas dinner. but come fall, that’s over. you don’t think that’s important enough to even talk about? doesn’t it matter to you at all?”

“of course it matters!” he finally spat out, taking stumbling steps towards her. “i don’t want to talk about it because i know it’ll change everything.”

aegon’s eyes were glassy, his emotions threatening to spill over. “because you’ll be far away, making new friends, living a different life. you get to conveniently walk out on me and my fuck ups. i don’t want to talk about it because you’re leaving me.”

“leaving you?” the aegon that stood before her was shaking like a scared child, gone was the playful, laid back popular boy. for the first time that night, she could see clearly through him, the first time he’d allowed her to.

y/n moved closer, taking his hands in hers. “aegon, i could never leave you.” she promised. “you’re a part of me. distance doesn’t change that.”

“you say that now…” he mumbled, looking away as she caught tears running down his cheek.

“i’m not leaving you,” she repeated, more firmly this time, her heart aching for him. “we’ll find a way to make it work. i promise.”

“do you really mean that?” her hand reached out to his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of her thumb. “with all my heart,” she whispered. the vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unfiltered as he confessed “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t,” she assured him, putting her arms around him as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “we’ll figure it out, together.” she sounded sure, determined.

he clung to her, and she could smell the weed and cigarettes on his shirt, she knew that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been for the conversation they were having. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, y/n.” he muttered into her hair. she smiled against his chest. “lucky for you, you don’t ever have to find out.”

as one of his hands trailed down to her lower back, she suddenly felt her shorts were far too short for her to be having company. his other hand started to rub at her side, his thumb brushing up against the side of her breast and lingering just enough that she knew he could tell she was bare beneath her flimsy cotton top.

they’d been standing in silence for a minute when he suddenly spoke up, “i’m sorry that i mess everything up, you deserved to have me there with you tonight.”

his hand had stopped right by her cleavage, causing her throat to dry up. “it was just a stupid dance.”

“yeah, but it mattered to you.” he brought his other hand to her ass, as he pulled apart slightly to look down at her. her breathing became rapid as she looked back up at him.

in that moment, the tension between them shifted. aegon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers hesitantly. y/n responded, closing the distance again, with more passion.

there was a sense of urgency, a rush as his tongue entered her mouth. the hand on her ass moved to slip past her shorts and panties to grab at her bare skin, causing her to moan into his mouth. her own hands attempted to undo the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt, before letting her fingers roam around his exposed chest.

he pushed them back, till she felt the edge of her bed behind her making her fall back on it, pulling him down with her as she went.

his mouth moved to trail sloppy, wet kisses on her neck, and then down to her collarbone. she could feel him use his teeth, marking her for the next day.

situated as he was between her legs, she could feel his semi-hard on from under his pants, rubbing against her in the most delicious way making her wrap her legs tighter around him, to feel that friction more intensely.

his mouth broke away from her now-sensitive skin momentarily, as he lifted her top enough to expose her breasts to him. his hands roughly gripped the flesh, making y/n gasp with how cool his rings felt pressed to her skin.

his mouth then took in one of her nipples, as she whimpered at the sensation, her fingers pulling his hair as he flicked it with his tongue, before sucking on it.

when he finally lifted his head to look up at y/n, she couldn’t believe the scene before her. in that moment aegon was looking her with a hunger and wanting, that she didn’t think he’d even given cassandra baratheon.

what might come next though, made y/n nervous. she’d never gone this far with a boy before, reasoning with herself that she’d never liked anyone enough. but she could admit to herself now that she’d been waiting to share that experience with aegon, waiting for him to come around.

still, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way, or how to do it if she was.

thankfully for her, aegon reached ahead and merely kissed her lips once more, softer this time. then, even more unexpectantly, he placed a final, tender kiss atop her head, before climbing off from between her thighs and crashing down on the pillow beside her.

she blinked at the figure of him, lying next to her completely relaxed, as if what they’d just done was so routine, it didn’t warrant another thought. “get that lamp light next to you, would you?” he yawned.

as if in a daze, y/n wordlessly switched the light off, plunging the room into darkness.

she could hear him breathing beside her, close enough to block her nose with the smell of cigarettes she was sure she’d have to wash out of the sheets the next day. but with his pale hair falling like that against his fluttering eyes, she knew he was the only person she wanted, flaws and all.

drowsiness began to take over her after sometime, and she wasn’t sure if she actually heard him mumbling “love you” or if she’d dreamt it but she drifted off with a faint smile on her face nonetheless.

the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over y/n’s room. she stirred awake, stretching out lazily when her eyes fell on to the snoring boy beside her. she couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful his face looked, her hand stretching out to tuck behind the strands of platinum falling to his eyes.

she tried to be as quiet as she could in walking to her bathroom. standing in front of her mirror, she noticed the now purpling hickey right by her collarbone. she still couldn’t quite believe that the events of last night had actually occurred, but the evidence was staring her right in the face. her fingertips grazed the bruise, and the corners of her lips turned upwards automatically.

she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a haze, where all she could think about was what was going to happen next. would she and aegon have a conversation about it, or would he pretend it was nothing? oh god, what if he regretted it? the thought made her tense. instead of going back to her room she sat on the edge of her bathtub, nervously thinking about what impact last night would have on their friendship. she couldn’t imagine losing aegon, she thought. if it came down to taking whatever happened yesterday forward or saving their friendship, she would pick the latter, she determined. before she could lose her nerve, she decided to go back to her room with that thought.

upon her return she realised the object of all her anxiety was already up, rubbing his eyes with his palms and groaning, clearly nursing a hangover. her heart suddenly started to pound in her chest. “you’re up early. it’s not even noon yet.” she teased as she came to sit by him. “and morning to you too” he grumbled.

“how are you feeling?” she hesitantly asked, “like i got hit by a bus,” he said, attempting a weak grin.

she gave him a faint chuckle. she looked around the room as silence filled the space. she was hoping that he’d be the one to bring up last night, rather than making her go through the embarrassment and awkwardness of coming to that topic.

how did you even start that conversation? she wondered as she pulled at a few strands of embroidery coming untethered from the rest of her bedsheet. ‘hey last night was the best kiss i’ve ever had, let’s do it again sometime soon’? no, that wasn’t it. she stole a glance at aegon who had picked up his phone, neither of them having said anything to break the silence. i could start by telling him how i’ve always liked him? no that would definitely activate his commitment-phobia, and he’d go running out the door, she realised. sitting this long without either of them talking felt far too weird and she started to panic slightly.

she kept thinking if he was going to approach the topic, wondering if she should instead, when suddenly aegon got off her bed.

“what have we got here” he walked over to the basket where some of her old toys had been kept for her mother to donate when she went to college. “nothing just some old things” she replied, surprised that this was what he wanted to discuss now. he seemed to be entertaining himself by going through her things as if he hadn’t been in her room a hundred times before.

well, if he was going to avoid it, y/n decided she should be the one to rip off the band-aid. she cleared her throat to start speaking, when he suddenly cut her off, “do you still have that lightsabre i gave you for your 12th birthday? the one that used to light up and all?” “no, because you broke it playing with it in my garden that same day you gifted it.” she reminded him, “right…” he muttered, before going back to his rummaging.

this time she stood up and walked over to him, and started to say, “y’know i think we should talk—” “what’s ollie doing here?” grinning, he grabbed an old red octopus from the basket and lifted one of its stuffed tentacles to wave at her. “did this mean old lady steal you from me ollie?” “no, you stole him from me, remember? and alicent had to return it back” she reminded him, snatching the toy back from him in irritation. if he was going to keep mucking about, she was never going to be able finish what she wanted to say.

she exhaled a big sigh, and built up her courage again, “we have to talk about last night—” “yeah, what did happen last night?”

she could only blink, as aegon nonchalantly asked, not even bothering to look up from the box of broken, dusty toys. “what do you mean ‘what happened’?”

“as in how did i end up in your bed?” he laughed, “don’t remember much after us arriving at prom” her heart sank at his words. “you blacked out.” she said in realisation. she turned around and walked back to sit on her bed so he wouldn’t see her wounded expression.

he didn’t even remember what was possibly one of the biggest moments of her life, something so monumental that she’d woken up this morning as if waking up to a new life. all those years she'd spent unknowingly pining for him, she’d thought that now there was finally some hope that she could actually be with him. but one little sentence from him had made her memory of last night dissipate like a mirage.

what had she even been thinking, he was drunk out of his mind and was probably barely in knowledge of himself when they did what they did last night. it was a mistake, and it should have never happened. she couldn’t control the tears slipping down her cheeks, her back facing aegon to shield herself subconsciously.

“you were pretty drunk. you climbed up to my room and we talked for a while. you fell asleep here.” she answered in robotic narration, not daring a look at him. she wiped her face quickly as she heard him stop with his aimless search and come sit next to her.

“sounds accurate. i do anything stupid i should know about?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern. it was the standard question he asked when he blacked out. for a second, she wondered if she should tell him everything.

y/n shook her head, smiling faintly. “no, you didn't. just needed a place to crash.”

she thought about it rationally – even if they did talk about last night, what was going to be the best-case scenario? he would be glad of what he did? but even then, what would happen next? she was going to dorne, and him to the reach, and a long distance anything was going to be impossible enough. here they were nervous about their friendship surviving the distance, but a relationship? she couldn’t see any way this would end well.

and this was considering if aegon even wanted any of it. last night may have been special for her, but if drunken fooling around and crashing into bed was all it took to get him to pursue someone romantically, half the school was ahead of her in that line.

this was the best thing for both of them, she sadly thought, to preserve their friendship.

him putting his arm across her shoulders and squeezing her brought her out of her miserable thoughts, “thanks for looking out for me, as always.”

“of course,” she replied softly. “that's what friends are for.”

aegon met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “yeah, best friends.”

a few minutes later she left momentarily to get herself a glass of water but by the time she returned, her room was empty with her window left open and her red octopus missing once again from her bed.

[ameliathornromance]

Hot summer evenings are your worst nightmare.

With the relentless heat, your hair suffered greatly. Having curls was one thing in the winter, it was easier to maintain then, it meant that there was no need to use as many potions you needed for hair care.

Sometimes, you just felt like you couldn’t be bothered with your hair. It was too much hassle, too much work. But your Orc Boyfriend adored them and that’s why you kept up the routine.

You didn’t do it just for him of course, you loved having shiny and healthy ringlets… but on hot summer evenings, the last thing you wanted to do was all the hair care that it took to keep them looking nice.

Orcs naturally have straight, jet black hair and although they do style it in braids and updo’s none of them ever have it curly, so it’s not like any of them have some fast track way to keeping their hair in check that you could use.

A part of you was jealous that all they had to do was lie down in a river, rinse their hair through once and leave it to air dry. Lucky bastards.

After coming back from a nearby spring, you sat on the floor and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your tired expression stared back, your damp hair dripping water onto the carpeted rug below you.

In front of you, on the little table you’d set up, were all the potions you used on your hair. One a bright aqua blue for locking in moisture and another, a soft lilac to help the curls keep their form.

You wanted to get started… really you did. But looking at the two bottles in front of you, you found that your arms would not move.

“Need a hand?”

Looking around, your saw your Orc sitting up from his place on the bed. You’d thought he was asleep.

“Oh, no hun you go back to sleep.” You told him.

“I don’t mind helping.” Throwing the covers off the bed, he came over and sat behind you. “I’ve seen you do this routine hundreds of times and you look exhausted.”

When you went to protest again, your Orc shushed you, “let me help, love.” He kissed your cheek and leaned over your shoulder to reach for the potion bottles.

Realising that there was no way to talk him out of this, you stayed quiet and watched as he took the towel you had slung over you shoulder and began to towel your hair dry.

It was a pleasant surprise to see him work so meticulously. To feel his hands comb through your hair with such care, gently separating it into sections and working on them one by one.

The stress and build up to actually doing your hair melted away as his hands massaged your scalp. You nearly fell asleep then and there.

“I didn’t think you ever paid much attention to me when I did my hair.” You admitted as he scrunched your hair in his fists.

Your Orc Boyfriend let out a chuckle, “how could I not? You look so gorgeous when you’re concentrating.”

Pursing your lips, you look away from him and look at your lap, hiding an abashed smile. Once he was finished, he got up and tossed a satin cloth to you. “For when you sleep.”

Catching it, you looked down at it, then back at your Orc, who smiled at you. “Yeah, I even pay attention to that.”

Your heart fluttered as he pulled you into bed alongside himself, and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you,” you whispered, snuggling into his body.

“Anytime my love.”

Patreon

[tahliafox]

Only you.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: “Oh, baby. It's only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. 

Warnings: Angst, Making out.

Word count: 1938 

This is an add on to Dirty Secret, my last published story.

Your finger flitted gently over the F# a couple times before a light pressure caused a horrendous off-key sound coming from the G in front of it. Your eyes tightly closed shut at the mistake.

“It’s an F#, darling.” The deep voice that appeared beside you made you flinch into a pair of thin, delicate hands that came to rest on your  tender shoulders. A green-flecked gaze ran over Natasha’s perfectly polished nails. From instant perception, the older woman's voice seemed to be aroused with disappointment.

The hand that once rested on your shoulder came and grasped at your shaky hands to place them onto the right keys. “A, then F#, then back to A. The notes are in triplets, play it rhythmically and evenly. That may prevent you from slipping again.” You took in a quiet breath, drying out your wanting lips. 

“I'm sorry, I have been trying to play it for ages now. I just can't get it right.” Your voice came out shaky, the breath taken in did little to calm your nerves- further prevented by the divine presence behind you. Natasha ran her hand back over to your shoulder and comfortingly caressed the tiffany blue, cotton shirt. Nimble fingers played with the satin collar that had been folded neatly, framing your porcelain neck. It was unfolded and folded again in exactly the same way, however it seemed to look neater after Natasha’s touch. 

“Why don’t you take a break, sweetheart. Maybe we could clear your head a little.” Natasha looked into your eyes through the gold-framed mirror in front of you both. You blushed under her gaze, as always, and nodded your head. “Fancy a walk?”`

You found yourself thoughtlessly agreeing.

Dancing ballet through thin plaits and red ribbons, the wind seemed to cool your forever flushed cheeks. Golden shards of light peaked through the patterned skyline created by browning leaves. The tree's trunks were home to a blanket of moss that creeped its way up through the branches. Ruby red heels clicked along the stoney, concrete road - that had been framed roughly by brittle leaves fallen from adjacently-lined rows of tall autumn-stained trees. 

Your hand fiddled with the fur lining at the end of your coat, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the coffee-coloured, plaid skirt you had on. Your eyes were trained on the floor, watching your every step, dear God don’t fall over. You were oh-so careful, trying not to trip over any loose stones that may have been in your way- after all, embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha any more that you already had was the only thing racing through your mind. 

Covered in a ebony-black trench coat, Natasha looked glamorous and rich as always, with a cherry cigarette hanging from her lips. Her hair was tucked neatly into a french beret, secured by two pure gold clips. Everything she owned was so expensive, so expensive that you started to feel worth something every time Natasha layed her gentle fingers against your scarred skin.

“The sunsets are always beautiful this time of year.” Natasha put forth. Her hand was gently intertwined with your own, repeatedly rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. The unconscious movement managed to both calm and panic you at the same time. The overwhelming being of Natasha never ceased to leave your frame of mind, she was always there. 

Natasha was not expecting the silence she was met with after her remark. You clearly had not cleared your mind yet. “Please try to stop thinking, darling. You have been ever-so stressed recently and it's starting to worry me- and believe me I need nothing less than more worry lines on my forehead.” she chuckled. Your gaze whipped from the gravel path into Natasha’s eyes. 

“You are beautiful.” You spluttered. Natasha blushed softly and raised her eyebrows- making you choke on a dry throat. The soft cigarette smoking coming from Natasha’s mouth weaved its way through the air. “I- I mean that you shouldn't worry about getting lines on your face. You’re already so beautiful and I- well there's nothing that could happen to your face to erase that.” You un-methodically rambled.  

Natasha listened with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took in the wonder in your eyes as you spoke about her. “Well, thank you very much, sweetheart.” Natasha squeezed your hand tightly in hers with the intention of comfort. 

You smiled and looked back at the floor, the disorder of thoughts slowly clearing. “Did you talk to Darren about my sleeping arrangements? He asked me to clear out the guest room downstairs for whilst he is away- to keep you company.” You changed the subject. Natasha’s smile sunk a little at the mention of her husband. 

“Why don’t we take a trip away as well. Nobody is needing us here, we could go to Rome. I know you speak italian.” Natasha mumbled. You nodded your head at the option. Rome was always lovely at this time of the year, and your apartment there looked over the skyline perfectly.

“I have a place there.” You mentioned. Natasha looked at her, surprised.

“You do?”

“Well, it used to be my Nonno’s, but after he passed away I inherited it. It's completely paid off and everything.”

Natasha smiled at you as you both got to the end of the gravelled road, reaching a perfectly preserved fence. A bay horse lifted its head from the grass, looking over to see you and Natasha standing over the fence. Natasha clicked her tongue at her horse.

The horse came trotting over with its head held high. 

“How come I don't look after the horses as well as the house?” You asked.

“I assumed you were not trained with equine animals. If you had mentioned it in your resume I would have discussed it with you.” Natasha ran her hand along the stripe on the geldings head.

“Oh- I am not trained with horses, I just assumed I would take care of everything.” You hesitated for a second. “You have other maids?”

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head a little at the tone of your question. “Well, yes. It's a rather large estate and it would be impossible for you to clean it yourself, especially because you're not a live-in maid.” 

The realisation that there were other people that could possibly be this close to Natasha shot its way through your stomach like a bullet. What if you weren’t special? What if Natasha was just overly kind, overly giving? What if she’d been with another woman? A concerned look settled onto your face and, unbeknownst to yourself, Natasha was watching every twitch, every little movement to try and read what you were thinking. So lost in thought, you didn't even realise that Natasha's hand had let go of your own hand, and was now reaching its way onto your cheek. 

The juxtaposing smells of Natasha’s cherry wrist and the horse's mane were able to pull you out of a trance. Natasha held your face ever-so delicately and lifted your chin so she could look directly into soft eyes. Like the scent of Natasha, a cherry shade flooded onto your cheeks- all the way to the tips of your ears. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Natasha kindly demanded.

“Do you talk to everyone like this? Do you… well, are you with anyone as well as this?” The innocence of the question, followed with the despair that painted its way onto your face made Natasha pull you into her firm hold. You wrapped your arms around Natashas waist as one of her hands made its way into your hair, scratching at your scalp softly. 

“Oh, baby, only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. You burrowed your head into Natasha’s neck, allowing the sweet smell to dissipate your thoughts. Natasha rested her chin on top of combed hair and swayed you in her arms, whilst continuously stroking a line from the base of your neck to scalp.

After a long moment, you pulled away from Natasha’s neck, keeping the woman close in your arms. Your head turned away from Natasha’s gaze, scouting the area to see if anyone was with the two of you. 

“Kiss me.” You stated.

Natasha seemed to know everything, but at this moment she went foolish, you hadn't asked her for anything since that night. Often pervaded with words, she found herself speechless. She’d kissed you before, she’d fucked you before yet this was different, thought through- intimate, less impulsive. Sharply inhaling through her nose, (the sweet smell of you not helping her state of overwhelm) went blank, and opened her mouth.

“What?” The older woman's voice, unlike her face, was filled with emotion and expression.  It held a tone of something that you’d never heard before- disbelief maybe, so abnormal that your stomach started to curl. Her voice went- she tried to respond but all that happened was an opening of pretty, pink lips and the release of a cut breath. Natasha stared with shock for a few seconds, her mouth had dropped open the same. Her eyes flicked around the property they were on, after realising they were truly alone she nodded.

“Ask- ask me again and I'll give you anything. I’ll give you everything, just ask me.” Natasha’s voice was desperate. The young girl stole her thoughts and replaced them with images of what could happen. Breathing out of her nose, she closed her eyes and dropped so her forehead was resting against yours. “Please, baby. Ask me again.” The desperate voice dropped to a pleading whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Despite the sheer desperation swimming within Natasha, she was gentle and kind. Soft, moisturised lips kissed themselves on your shaky mouth, pecking twice- why was she being so damn gentle-  until it got too much. You whined, feeling the older woman inhale against your mouth as the noise registered in her ears. Her legs subtly got closer, almost crossing.

Your eyes were closed, so tightly- as if you were making it up in your head and the permission of sight would cause a decay of the dream. But it was real, as real as Natasha’s nose brushing against yours, her lips intertwined, sucking on your lower lip. As real as her bold, undiscouraged hands gripping at your waist, forcing an arch in your back as she leaned into you.

Your slender arms draped over her neck, the crinkles in your shirt, the dip in her knees. Raphael couldn't paint a prettier picture than what was standing in broad daylight. 

“Please.” You begged, not knowing what you were actually asking for.

More, anything. 

“What, baby?” her mouth drew a millimetre away from yours. “Tell me what you need.”

You stuttered. Her, just her. 

“You, please.” so frail, so inexperienced. What were you supposed to ask for other than her? You just wanted her again.

Yet the world seemed so unkind, as the faint tapping of boots against cobbled stone started to get louder. Natasha withdrew herself from you completely, and in the matter of seconds you seemed to go through withdrawals. Your eyes widened, then welled.

The older woman had you at almost arms length, she consistently observed the surroundings. You begged that no one had seen the both of you together. Once so tender, she went cold, then started walking away from you. 

“Go back inside, finish your duties.” she ordered, as if she was talking to staff. You then realised she was, and that's what you were to her, an employee.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [4]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: a little more story, a little more tension, a little mor everything! what do you guys always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics​

 The Nilfgaardian banner snaps in the sharp, salt-laden breeze, the dark fabric bearing the crest of its namesake. The bright yellow sun mirrors the one in the cloudless sky above the keep. From your room, you can see their approach long before they reach the gates, a thin vein of black weaving through the countryside like a snake. The garrison pauses only briefly in the city, winding through the crowded streets in their pitch colored armor like a long satin ribbon. You grimace at the sight of them, swallowing against the sourness you feel growing at the back of your throat. 

 You do not know why the sight of them fills you with a dark foreboding, a shadow that looms in the space behind your thoughts. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you are expected to greet the Nilfgaardian envoy alongside your mother, the king, and the prince that makes your stomach curdle.  

“My Lady, should we not join their Majesties?” Kassandra’s voice draws you from your churning thoughts. “Her Highness would not be pleased if we were late.” You swallow the dry retort that your mother would not be pleased no matter what you did, and automatically feel guilt over the bitter thought. You grimace before nodding at Kassandra over your shoulder. 

 Nothing good will come of this. The feeling—no, the knowledge—is as familiar to you as your own name, appearing among your thoughts as if it had always been there. Only sorrow will come of this day. 

 “Are you alright, Your Grace?” 

 Your throat tight, you smile. “Y-yes.” I am grim without cause. You shake yourself, smoothing your hands down the stiff, unfamiliar dress. It’s new, gifted to you only this morning as your mother had informed you of her expectations. 

 “You’ll look lovely in this,” she had bade the servants to lay out the massive thing, a veritable ocean of fabric, with so many skirts and stays you find yourself amazed you can even move at all. You detest the restriction and corsetry of it all, fidgeting with a frustrated grimace as Kassandra opens the door. Your thoughts must be plain on your face, for she is quick to reassure you as you pass.

 “You are a vision, Your Grace,” she says, hurrying to your side as she closes the heavy door behind you. Despite your displeasure, her words do comfort you, and you offer Kassandra a watery smile in thanks. “I daresay you shall be the envy of every Lady in attendance.” 

 You laugh dryly. “Even you?” Kassandra’s response is unexpected—she shakes her head, pressing her lips together into a thin, apologetic smile.

 “No, my Lady.” She says softly. There is true pity in her eyes, which stings all the more. “Though there are many in His Majesty’s keep who would treat with the Gods themselves to take your place—and, exalted though it may be, I am not among them.” The words pass unspoken between you, true honesty masked only slightly by propriety. “I would not wish that for all the world.”

 The throne room is as packed with bodies as it was at your mother’s coronation only a few scant weeks prior, servants weaving deftly in and out of the crowd. It parts easily for you, people scrambling out of your path as you make your way toward the throne. Geralt stands to the king’s left, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you so heavily it is as though he has touched you with his hand. 

 “My King. I trust you are well this morning?” He heaves a heavy sigh at your question, massaging the graying hair at his temple. 

 “As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” King Vesemir graces you with a tired smile. “But I am glad these worries are mine. Would that they fall on mine own shoulders and save yours.” Of these troubles, you know only what little you have managed to glean from casual conversation and your own observations—the Lord of Nilfgaard has sent his envoy, along with a garrison of troops, to treat with the king. 

 Your mother scoffs. “You are a King, my love,” she says, tilting her regal head at him. “You can do nothing without rousing at least a little of the rabble.” 

 You take your place next to her, skirting around the prince with a wide berth. Your mother reaches for your hand, patting it as she nods approvingly at you.

 “You look as lovely as I thought you would.” Somehow, her complement makes you like your clothing even less. The dress is heavy and cumbersome, the corset laced so tight a deep breath makes the seams groan. 

 “It is the color.” Geralt’s interjection makes your mother’s smile thin and tighten, until the edges seem brittle like paper. “It suits you, sister.” Is there no line he will not cross? From behind his wide shield of plausible deniability he mocks you, his mouth quirking innocently as if he is unaware of the boundary he dances upon. Gracious acceptance is the only play you have, and he knows it as well. 

 “You are too kind, my Prince.” You clasp your hands together and face forward. It is surreal, almost, to see the calm with which he regards you now, when only a week ago he had raged at your door like a madman. Had you not seen it yourself, you would not think it possible. Though you would blame him for it, the nervous twisting of your stomach is not Geralt’s fault alone. The ill feeling that had taken root in your belly at the sight of the Nilfgaardian envoy still left you with a sour taste on your tongue, one that did not seem to wash away. 

 And the dreams…

 You shudder to think of them, the dark, creeping things that keep you awake long after the halls of the king’s keep have fallen silent. You have not wandered from your rooms again to your knowledge, but you’ve slept so little in the past week that you suspect it is less a matter of your self control and more the lack of opportunity. The nails on your fingers, hidden by the cumbersomely long sleeves of your dress, are bitten down to the quick. It is a new habit you’ve developed sitting in the crushing dark as you wait for the dreams to come. 

 Your father’s rotting face swims before you again. 

 Sugar sweet—  

 You twist the heavy fabric of your sleeves in your nervous hands as you stare hard at the stone floor between your feet. 

 “What troubles you, Little Doe?” Geralt’s voice is as much of a surprise as his proximity, his side lightly pressing against your own as he leans down. You drop your hands to your sides like deadweight, suddenly aware of his eye. 

 “And why would you think me troubled?” You ask curtly. The prince’s wolfish grin sends a strange, hot pulse straight to your core, one you vehemently try to ignore. You are under no pretense, you know what the prince is, who he is. He has gone out of his way to show you, and yet—

 “I am apt to know trouble when I see it.” 

 The throne room doors slam open, leaving you no time to respond as every eye is drawn to the entrance. The instant hush that falls over the room is so deep that the herald’s voice is like a crack of thunder. At the same time, your stomach tightens. The dark warning in your heart rings again like a bell, clear and true. Though you still do not quite grasp its meaning, the message is clear—whatever you’d been meant to avoid had now come to pass, leaving no room for escape or denial. 

 “Presenting His Lordship, Duke Emhyr of Nilfgaard!” The duke sweeps into the throne room, his ink-black cloak billowing behind him. There are two of his own guards flanking him in their telltale black armor, like pools of animated shadow. Their faces are hidden by their helms, the sides carved like griffin wings. 

 The duke stops before the throne, dropping down to one knee. 

 “My King.” His accented common turns the words up at the edges, almost like a question. “Hail.” His face is handsome but severe, high cheekbones, fierce, beady eyes, and a thin mouth that curls up at the corners, just like his words. There is a scar on his face, long and thin and jagged, stretching from his left temple to the right side of his chin. His already wan smile thins further as he turns to your mother. 

 “My Queen.” 

 “Lord Emhyr.” The duke’s smile is wan as he dips his head again. “I bid thee welcome. I trust you found the journey pleasant enough.” The words are empty pleasantries, merely frivolous formalities exchanged before the truth is allowed to be addressed. 

 “Aye, Majesty, as enjoyable as one can find a carriage journey.” He straightens back up. “I would extend my many congratulations on your union. The Gods themselves could not have delivered a more beautiful Queen.” 

 To your surprise, it is Geralt who speaks next. 

 “We did miss you at the celebration, my Lord.” The remark is meant to sound like a casual observation—you know it is not. “Quite a pity.”

 Emhyr’s jaw tics. “Indeed.” He looks over his left shoulder, and motions the guards forward. “My deepest regrets. As I previously expressed to His Majesty, my presence was required elsewhere. As I am sure you recall, we do share a border with the Elves.” He spits the word like a curse. “Occasionally those savages do need a good reminding of where their lands end, and ours begin, Your Grace.” 

 You shudder. There are few elves left south of the heavily policed Nilfgaardian border, but you have met some. Savages. The word makes your lip curl. They are rather fond of that word, aren’t they?

 “I did bring a—belated—wedding present.” Between the two of them, the guards haul forward a small black chest, the polished wood glinting in the light. He pulls back the lid, and a murmur travels through the gathered courtiers at the sight of the jewels. A small fortune in dark blue sapphires sits within. King Vesemir stands, bidding two of the ivory cloaked kings-guard forward to take the chest.

 “A most precious gift.”

 “The mines remain prosperous. Perhaps Her Highness might have them made into something befitting her loveliness.” A smile creases your mother’s ruby lips, but it is sharp enough to cut. Neither does it reach her narrowed eyes. 

 “We cannot thank you enough for your gracious gift, my Lord.” Her voice is delicate, like breaking glass. “But I do not believe you rode for six days to bear witness to my beauty.” You are left to wonder in the brief moments before Duke Emhyr answers. If he will allow the truth to be broached, or if he will flee from it like a rat from a burning ship. 

 “Indeed my Queen, I have not.” He casts a look around, as if the words he is about to speak are for everyone there, not just the king. “Your Grace, I come before you today with only the deepest respect for your will, authority, and wisdom.” Duke Emhyr chooses his words carefully. He chooses them as carefully as a mason did his stones, stacking each one meticulously on top of the other. “But I do admit my heart longs for clarity on this matter. 

 Not a season past, when His Majesty announced an end to his long mourning period, and indeed his intent to marry once more, I did put forth my own daughter as prospect.” His accusation takes shape, and you watch your mother’s face tighten, her fingers curling around the polished bone arm of her throne. “And before this very court, His Majesty agreed. I had imagined a shared future of prosperity and happiness between both our great houses. I mean no offense, and so I beg pardon—”

 “And yet you have given it.” Your mother’s expression remains placid—her voice less so. You can almost hear the icy words forming on her tongue as her lips part to speak again, but the king silences her, holding up one steady hand. 

 “I appreciate your candor, my Lord,” he leans forward. “But it is Vesemir who rules here, not Emhyr.” All chatter ceases, and the chamber is as quiet as the crypt beneath it. “The decision as to who it is I marry is mine—and mine alone.” King Vesemir stands, descending the short set of steps until he is level with the duke. “It is I who bears the burden of ensuring the prosperity and stability of this realm. And while I am ever thankful for the service you have provided it… you would do well to remember that fact, my Lord.” 

 “Of course, my King. I—I mean only for the betterment of the empire.” It is then that his eye falls to you. “I see no reason a match might not still be made—”

 “Then we shall speak no more about it.” You watch the duke’s jaw tighten, his lips thinning as he fights not to show his displeasure. 

 “As you will, Your Grace.” You have not heard the last of this matter, of that you are certain. A sinking feeling rises in your stomach, like you’ve tumbled freely over the edge of a cliff. There is no going back, the feeling seems to whisper, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. A path has been chosen now and you will walk it—

 “I thank you again for your generous gift, Lord Emhyr,” the dismissal is obvious in the king’s tone. 

 “The pleasure is mine, my liege.” The words sound broken in his mouth, like he’s chewed them up. A cold finger traces down your spine as his eyes meet yours again. “I thank you for your counsel.” 

 —

 The sky is dark, angry black clouds roiling above the keep. You’ve not seen much rainfall in Rivia since your arrival, but today the clouds above you seem full to bursting, the smell of the imminent downpour filling your nostrils. Still, you take your time as you stroll through the gardens, stopping every so often to enjoy the sight of flowers in bloom. 

 “You are enjoying the gardens today, my Lady,” Kassandra’s observance is gently made, though she looks worriedly up at the sky. 

 “I feel I must,” you reply, leaning down to inspect a half-closed bud. “Summer here is drawing to a close, and I must admit I fear the cold.” You offer her a small smile over your shoulder. 

 “Have you no winter in Redania?” She asks, wonder coloring her words. “The land of eternal summer indeed.” 

 “No snow,” you agree, shaking your head. “Tis more like… autumn.” There is a wistfulness to your words you cannot suppress, a longing that brings moisture to your eyes. In truth, you doubt it will matter how many years you spend here at court—Rivia will never feel like home. Kassandra smiles thoughtfully. 

 “I should like to see it, my Lady,” she says. “Twould not be a chore to accompany you—if you wished it so. The winter here is harsh, even within the city walls.” 

 “Aye, winter on the continent is no easy task to weather.” The two of you turn at the sound of a new voice to face the speaker. Duke Emhyr bows respectfully, removing his cap as he does so. “I did not mean to intrude—I find the gardens less familiar than I imagined,” he adds, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Might I trouble you for an escort?” 

 You had not seen the duke since his spectacle at court the day prior, the matter of which had the courtiers aflutter with gossip. You suppose you, like Duke Emhyr, had been equally blindsided in the matter of your mother’s courtship and her subsequent marriage. Nervously, you wonder if his feelings of dissatisfaction—and possible animosity—extend to you by proxy. Kassandra curtsies, and you nod, forcing a small, charitable smile onto your lips. 

 “O-of course, my Lord.” You reply. “I myself find the task of navigating the keep daunting, despite calling this place home.” Kassandra falls into step just behind you, and you must physically stop yourself from commanding her to walk beside you. Though you’ve little personal regard for the importance of blood and titles, you know here in Rivia those things matter above all else. The duke is more than happy to ignore her, his hawkish eyes weighing heavily on you. 

 “How long has it been since your arrival at the White Keep, if you will indulge my curiosity?” 

 “Nearly three months.” Though you have kept count of every passing day since your arrival, to say it aloud makes homesickness rear up in your chest. The duke clucks his tongue pityingly. 

 “Tis a shame. Redania is quite beautiful this time of year. I have had the pleasure of many a visit.” He clasps his hands behind his back and casts a look at the dreary sky. “Nilfgaard is my home, but I would be a liar if I said I did not envy the beauty of the southern jewel.” The wistfulness in his voice inspires thoughts of warm autumn nights scented with pine and faded sunlight. But a warning echoes in your heart at the false note in it, the one that reminds you of the coy, prying questions of your mother’s ladies in waiting, only cloaked in a cleverer disguise.

 “Indeed.” You round the corner of a hedge. “I have never seen snow, now that I think of it. I should much like to, now that I am older.” 

 “Never seen snow?” The duke echoes your words, replacing your simple desire with shock. “Though I would not speak ill of your late father—Redania has never seen a finer Regent—I do believe he kept you far too sheltered.” It takes effort to keep your smile from going thin at the mention of your father. As  if in response, a dull ache throbs in your chest. 

 “How lucky for us, then, that his death should bring me here.” You flick the words from your tongue like the lashing of a whip. There is a brief moment of dark satisfaction as the duke’s eyes widen, and his confident words falter. 

 “My sincerest apologies, Princess, I did not mean—”

 “No, of course not.” You reply, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat. “Forgive me, Duke Emhyr. My father I are—were, quite close.” You offer him an apologetic smile. “Might we speak of something else?” 

 “Of course, of course. My deepest sympathies.” He casts a furtive glance in your direction. “I hope you have been enjoying your time here, despite the… unfortunate circumstances.” You nod primly—for what words do you have to  describe the aching emptiness that fills you at the thought that home is a distant             thing now, the memory of a place you no longer belong. 

 “I have found ways to occupy myself.” You feel as thin as your smile. “The White Keep is large, there are many ways to spend ones time.”

 “And Her Majesty has certainly taken to her role,” he continues. “She has taken to court as though she were born here.” There is a note of bitterness in his voice. “Has she spent much time in Rivia? Surely during His Majesty’s rather short courtship—”

 “I know little of my mother’s courtship,” you say flatly, your eyes narrowed. “If you wish to know about it, perhaps you should ask her.” This time, it is difficult to leash your ire. You grow tired of the duke’s probing, his thinly veiled attempts to pick information from conversation behind the shield of feigned ignorance.

 “Highness—”

 “I trust you will can your way from here.” There is an unfamiliar coldness that underscores your words, one that uncomfortably reminds you of your mother. It is like hearing her own voice from your mouth, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. “Lady Kassandra, l believe we should take our leave.” 

 “At once, My Lady.”

 You leave him at the entrance to the gardens in the courtyard, sweeping past as his eyes bore into your back. 

 —

 “How does it end?” You are sat before the fire, a book held tenuously in your hands. Your loose, traditional dress is folded beneath you primly as the flames dance in the hearth. “How does it end?” Your father repeats warmly, chuckling as he leans forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. “You stopped reading.” 

 You can’t quite recall where you were now, the words seeming to shift on the page as you squint at them. 

 “I… I don’t remember now,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at your father. Though the flames are bright, his face is shadowed, but you get the feeling that he is smiling. 

 “The princess has just met the wolf,” he replies. “She doesn’t know it yet, but he plans to devour her whole—body, and spirit.” You look down at the page. “She is careful, the princess, and clever, but the wolf is sly, and he is not the only thing she has to fear.” You do not know why, but his words fill you with an incomparable sorrow. 

 “What else does she have to fear? Is the wolf not enemy enough?” You are crying. You don’t know why, but you are, tears pouring down your face and dripping messily off of your chin to stain the pages with salt. 

 “Weep not, daughter. She may yet avoid his jaws—and if not that, then perhaps she might at least turn him to her will. But the peacock—she is her true enemy.” 

 “A bird?”

 “Yes, dear girl,” your father’s voice goes strangely quiet as the fire burns low in the hearth, and the sitting room is shrouded in gloom. “For while her pretty feathers distract you, her beak plucks out your eyes.” 

 You wake blearily, blinking in the darkness as you struggle back to wakefulness. Instead of your bed, you are knelt on the cold, stone floor in front of the half-dead hearth. The embers that still smolder within are not enough to give off true heat, and pins shoot through your legs when you struggle to your feet. It is frigid in here, and you shiver, clutching your thin nightgown tightly around yourself. 

 You’ve no memory of leaving your bed, nor of kneeling in front of the hearth, and you sniffle as you make your way back beneath the canopy above your bed. There is a familiar ache in your tight throat that feels like you’ve been crying, and when you lift a shaking hand to your cheek. 

 Your face is wet with tears.

 —

 Your mother strokes your head as you sob, your tears soaking into her gown. 

 “I—I fear sleep, I fear waking,” you rasp, wiping at your sore eyes with the back of one trembling hand. “T-there is no respite from them. I close my eyes in one place and open them in another—” A hiccoughing sob cuts the words in half. “Mother I fear I… I fear I shall go mad if I see father again. His face—!” You bury your head in her lap as another round of shuddering sobs wracks your limp body. 

 It has been years since you have sought your mother’s comfort like this, and in truth you cannot remember the last time it was even offered. She had been surprised to see you at her chamber door at this hour, disheveled and still clad in your nightgown, but she had let you in after you’d tearfully recounted the contents of your dreams. 

 She strokes your head. “Nightmares, my love. Nothing but terrors spun up by your mind—brought on from stress, no doubt.” Her hand is cool and comforting against your forehead. “I shall have the healer assemble something for you.” 

 “T-thank you, mother.” You offer her a watery smile.

 “Anything for you, my love.” She strokes your cheek affectionately, the bandage wrapped around her index finger rough against your skin. “I do so hate to hear of your suffering, I will do what I can to appease it.” You smile wider, even as you swallow back the inappropriately bitter feeling that says you have been suffering all this time regardless. This was the response you had desired from her all those weeks ago when you’d begged her to send you home—and now, for some reason, it feels… hollow. 

 “What happened to your finger?” You ask, and she sighs, waving her hand dismissively. 

 “A hairpin, nothing to worry yourself over.” You dry your eyes, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. Your mother barely acknowledges the timid knock at the door before the chambermaid pokes her head inside. 

 “Highness? H-His Majesty is here.” 

 Your mother does not look surprised to hear this. If anything, the corners of her mouth curl up into a sly smile for half an instant before she nods. 

 “I see. I shall see to him in a moment—” The maid squeals as the King himself pushes past her, his eyes wild. 

 “Thayet!” He calls your mother’s name with a hoarse, desperate voice. “I have waited over an hour for you—oh.” He seems to note your presence with all of the recognition one would give a fly. His bright, golden eyes are cloudy with confusion—as though he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are, or why you are there. Recognition finally lights in his eyes, and he nods at you. 

“Princess. It is… quite late,” he says slowly, as if he is only now realizing that fact himself. “Should you not be abed?” Your face heats with embarrassment. 

 “Ah, y-yes, my King. I was… troubled.” Your eyes dart between him and your mother. “But mother has allayed my fears.” You gather your shawl about your shoulders, bowing your head respectfully. Of course he would visit her as a husband—that is a fact you suppose you have known since you came to this place, but to catch the King in your mother’s bedchamber was another thing entirely. 

 The eagerness in his eyes as he looks at her, the way he licks his lips—it reminds you uncomfortably of Geralt, and of the need you see mirrored in his amber eyes. You retreat from the sitting room, though the sound of your mother’s voice makes you glance over your shoulder one last time as the door begins to close. 

 “I shall send Callista with a sleeping draught,” your mother calls at your retreating back. “For the dreams.” 

 Your stomach turns uncomfortably as you watch the king latches onto your mother, pulling her close as he trails desperate kisses down her arm. You are too far away to hear the words he growls through his gritted teeth before ripping at the bandage on her thumb and sucking the injured digit into his mouth. 

 The door closes with a loud bang, leaving you alone in the dark, empty hall. 

 The peacock, your father whispers in your memory as you shuffle back toward your room in the early hours.

 She’ll pluck out your eyes. 

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You finish hanging the clothes from the rack. You stir the fire so it burns a little better then stand back. You linger in its warmth. Now that you’re done, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Especially with him around. 

You bring your hands up to your chest and clasp them. You peek over at him. His eyes open as if he can sense you. You flinch and nod. 

“Will take a while to dry but I think I got everything,” you say. 

His gaze drifts to the rack. He narrows his eyes. You hope he doesn’t mind you touching his stuff. 

He raises a hand and gestures you to come closer. You try not to betray your hesitation as you cross the room. You stop right by the couch. 

“Do you want me to sit?” You point beside him. 

He doesn’t offer any response, not even a blink. You turn to sit and he catches your hips. He guides you before him and draws you back sit in his lap. You wiggle in surprise but let him draw you in. 

He hooks his arms around you and takes your hand in his. You’re rigid with tension. He feels along your knuckles and fingers, turning your palms up to trace the lines. You brace yourself as he rests his chin on your shoulder to watch his exploration of your hands. 

You curl your fingers to brush his rough skin and he winces. The veins in his hands bulge then he lays his hands flat, showing his palms as he rests his knuckles on your thighs. You gingerly trace the thick lines and find another scar along his wrist, jagged and thick. 

He drags a hand up your leg and wraps his arm around your middle. He moves you with him. You let him. He angles to recline across the couch with you over him. He shifts you to nestle you on your side, right against the cushions. He clings to your hand and brings it up to his chest. He lays it there, holding it firmly to his heartbeat. Your own is beating furiously. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and stare at the drying rack. The crackle of the fire underlines the silence, the winds whistling outside the windows, the night rising in shadows. Exhaustion descends on you and you slacken into him.  

You plummet into sleep. Your head thrums from the depths of you unsconscious and you forget all fears waking. There is only the black satin walls and the rippling glimmers of existence. 

You wake alone. Confused in the moment before your vision clears. The planks across the wall bring you back to reality. Your heart rents as the brief recollection of your former life dissolves. You always thought you wouldn't miss that old apartment once you were out but you could never imagine this. 

You sit up and listen to the cabin groan. You hear nothing but the natural creaking of the frame. You look over at the fireplace as it hazes lowly in a cluster of ember. 

The drying rack is gone and the clothes are folded neatly on the chair. Only the ones he brought you, not his. You stand and shuffle into the kitchen. Not there. Not in the bedroom or bathroom either. 

He's gone. 

You wonder if he went off with his shield and body armour. The thought makes you shiver. You return to the front room and add a log to the fire. 

Restless, you pace, in dread of what happens next. You don't know what will and that'd scarier than any inevitability. You walk in circles until your dizzy.  

When you still yourself, you're standing by the metal door. You stare at it. Then you touch it. It's thick and heavy. The reinforced barrier stands out starkly against the rustic and worn cabin walls. 

You grab the handle. It turns. Almost too easily. You pull. Jarred in surprise of how it opens without resistance. 

The blustering dregs of late autumn blow through you. You stare off into the dark trees. An open door but no where to go. 

You stay there until your burns ache with the cold. You're not brave or strong. You close the door and retreat into helplessness. Your head and stomach hurt. 

You go into the kitchen to fill the metal cup with filter water. You sit by the fire and sip. And wait. He had taken every decision away and in this you have as much choice. 

Wait and he'll be back. Wait and see what he does next. 

Time is hard guage within the soulless cabin. When the door opens, you’re as you have been. The fire is dead. You just didn’t bother adding more as the flames turned to cinder. 

His footsteps pound the floor in his neverending march through the world. There’s more weight added to the worn board. You sense him behind you. He moves around your perch on the floor. He rebuilds the fire and turns to you. 

You look up at him dully. He steps past you and comes back with a bag. A bright red reusable one. In this place, it’s a sliver of the outside world that feels so strange. He puts it before you and stands straight, hands on his hips. 

You sniff and bring yourself to sit on your heels. You lean to see inside the bag. You pull out the loaf of bread. Thick cut and whole wheat with seeds on the crust. You sift around and find a basket of veggies and fruit beneath the eggs and milk. You peer up at him. It’s hard to fathom the effort behind his haul. 

He bends and takes the bag. He leaves it in the kitchen and once more returns. He grabs another bag from behind the couch. You recognise the logo on it. Inside, a tea pot and matching cup and a variety of pack of loose leaf. It’s from your shop. 

Your lip trembles and you bite down. It’s a relic of what was. Even if there was escape, there’s no way back. 

You push the bag away and fall back on your ass. You bend your knees up and lay your head on crossed arms. Your tears leak out and wrack your body. He stands above you. You flinch and whimper as he touches your shoulder. 

You tear away and push yourself across the floor. You turn to look up at him, “why won’t you say something? Why? Why am I here? Why are you torturing me?” 

His brows rise and his cheek ticks. His lips curve downward and his eyes fall. He twists on his foot and walks away without a word. You sigh. 

“Fine, go. If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, I don’t want you near me.” 

You turn your back to him and hunch again as another fit falls over you. All control is gone. Anger, fear, hurt, confusion. You can’t keep it inside any longer. And why should you? 

[slickchickchocolatier]

reina, if u aren't busy can u do how heethan and y/n spend their new year🤩🤩

😏

Of course babe. ♥️

“Agora Hills”

Warnings: you already know. 😈 don’t read unless you’re comfortable with. Non-con, dub-con, implied rough smut, oral (fem receiving) etc. heethan is a menace in this one…he kinda gets excited…too excited.

“Babe, what do you want to do for New Years?”

You ask with an inquisitive look displayed on your delicate face as you raise your brows in earnest, yearning to hear Heeseung’s response. “H/n and the other girls mentioned this event and they’re all going with their boyfriends, I was wondering if you-“

“Babydoll…” he pauses after tossing the small towel he used to dry off his wet hair. A larger one is wrapped around his slim waist, the dry fabric is a stark contrast to his glistening wet skin. Like pearls, it shimmered under the glaring light above head, planted at the center of the ceiling. “I was hoping you’d be down to spend the evening with me—alone.”

Your eyes flicker downward. “I do, but can we just go and make an appearance? It’s just that—“

He cuts you off once more. “Are you getting bored, pretty girl?”

You shook your head vigorously, urgently relating that was not the case. God forbid if he ever thought you were bored with him, even if it were true, you would have to hold that piece in within yourself and avoiding the risk of receiving a punishment. “No, not bored.”

“Then what?” His deep voice quakes your legs. Quick on your feet, you quickly answer with the ball-bearing response that creases a permanent smile on his handsome face. You pleased him, so greatly.

“I just like to show you off…my man.”

‘Her man…she just used those words. Oh fuck almighty this girl…’

“You want to show me off…pretty girl?” He raises a brow, eyes wide with amusement, seemingly pleased by your affirmation. “Oh baby….”

You made him the happiest. Because of that, your wish is granted, and he took you out to said event.

‘I too, wanna show you off.’

He helped you pick out an outfit for the occasion, a white satin mini dress with a subtle flare on the hem. Skinny straps that delicately rest on the skin of your shoulders, and your hair remains down—it was the way he liked it. He loved the carefree and natural style of your beauty; little makeup and red glossy lips.

After mingling with the crowd, everyone joined inside the living room. You walked behind them but a sudden pull of your arm halts you. You turn around and see Heeseung’s dark eyes staring down at you. They looked so demeaning, you could feel the manipulation and corruption oozing from the glistening glare as he bites down in his bottom lip. He says nothing, but shifts a quick tilt to the side, hinting for you to migrate to the lone closet in the separate room. You didn’t even get to respond. The moment you tried to beg him and let you stay to participate in the countdown, he had already been snagging you, nearly flinging you across the kitchen floor. “Get over here.” He grits out through a clenched smile, eyes exuding malice and pure evil.

Dragging you away behind turned heads, nobody witnessed the explicit end to your night. “Please, Heeseung wait—“

He opens the door and tosses you in, almost as if you were a ragdoll. You find yourself in pitch black; the closet is a finite area. The light remains off as you feel his strong hands snag you by the waist. Shoving your back against the small built in cabinet that lies narrowly in a nook corner, he levitates your thighs harshly as he raises them up against the sides of his hips. “I’d love…nothing more than to show you off—“

He kisses you, violently mashing his lips against yours. “But you’re all mine. Part of me wants to show the entire world how viciously I can fuck you. But the other side of me just wants to keep the visual model of perfection that you are…all for myself.”

His hand snaps forward with viper speed as he grabs hold on your neck, giving him perfect leverage to push you down flat against the table surface of the shelf. Sighing out an ‘aww’ sound against your ear. “Oh baby…I love it when you smile…” he kisses your neck. “I love it when you frown.” He kisses your breasts as he pulls the straps of your dress down, revealing them. “I love it when you scream my name.” Another kiss finds its way on your inner thigh. Scooting your panties to the side, he dives his nose in, and exaggerating a sniff as he drags it against your clit, from top to bottom.

“But the best of all baby…” he flickers his tongue against the soft and swollen slack of skin in between the overly plush lips that cradle it. Soft kisses accompany the beating of his rhythmic tune as he swirls and twirls the tip in circles, increasing stimulation as the tightness of pressure formulates in your pelvis. “I love it when you cry…”

You gasp at the sudden force of his face jamming in between your legs. Your instinctive reaction was to close your thighs against his head, but his hands remained steady against them, pushing you apart as he continues to devour you of your senses. Pulsating, throbbing, and stinging with a pleasure so intense, it becomes painful. He gives it all to you as he wildly moves his tongue in and out of your most sensitive spot. He didn’t bother using his fingers, no. Enjoying the increase in moisture that was secreting out of you, he slurps up every drop, knowing that it was only going to add on to the state of pleasure you were riding on.

Your hips buck up as you wave them up and down, rolling onto your shoulder blades as you arch your back. Your chest protrudes towards, reaching high for the sky as you gasp out your pleading moans. Hips shaking, chest heaving, stomach churning, and legs quivering, you beg.

“Please! Heeseung please—n-not so much…I-it hurts! I can’t take it!”

The overstimulation pulls you into a state of sting pulses. They were piercing, making you squirm as he kept up with his vigor. “Mmmm” he mumbles with a mouthful of your sensitive skin.

He pulls away and licks his lips, replicating the expressive act of feasting on a meal. His lips taunting you through the display of the sweet scented shine, telling you of how much he savored the taste of you.

“Yummy.”

You shiver upon hearing him, while also watching g him unbuckle his belt in front of you, stationed between your legs as he glares his offensive look from above. “P-please…Heeseung…I-i can’t…”

You barely breathe out your words as you felt the life sucked out of you by the beast before you. “Shut up y/n. Don’t speak unless you plan on screaming out my name, deal?”

He swiped the tip of his phallic muscle up against your overstimulated clit, causing you to yelp out in pain and pleasure. He inserts himself in, but not in the traditional manner he normally displays. He was rough, demeaning, and entirely too offensive as he punched the tip in, dragging it further as he burrows deep into the depths of your cushioned gut. What in the world have you brought out of him? Did your earlier statement cause him to lose himself in the bliss happiness of your desire to show him off? Or did it excite him beyond the limits of satisfaction, causing him to yearn for you even more? So much that it hurts.

Deep into you, he buries his face into the soft spot of your neck, serenading you with soft kisses as you pinch out subtle tears from the mixture of pain and pleasure calling up in your gut. Your womanhood pulses with a beat that was much more steady than your heart. The blood rushes through your veins, heating your body temperature beyond comfort. His hands grip around your wrist as he continues to lavish your neck with his kisses. Your eyes winced shut as you overhear the crowd commit to the countdown of n the next room.

‘10…9…8…7…6…5…’

Snapping open, your eyes widen as he whispers the remaining numbers into your ear. “4…”

Oh no…

“3…”

Please God no…what is he going to do—

“2…”

when he reaches to…

“1…” he grins against your skin. “Happy New Year baby.”

Propping his palms flat by the sides of your head, he remains buried deep into you as he hovers his chest above your breasts, gently grazing against your nipples. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong but—I haven’t seen you cry since last year…think we’re overdue…don’t you?”

You shake your head. “N-no…heeseung please…not too hard…please?”

His thumb reaches up and swipes a teardrop away, gently smearing it across your cheek.

“Let’s see how many times you’ll scream out my name this year….both of them.”

Heeseung…and Ethan…

[zorosdimples]

CHAPPED

pairing ༄ kakashi x gn!reader

warnings ༄ slightly suggestive, reader and kakashi are in an established relationship, and there is an implied age gap. this is mostly fluffy fluff (who am i?)

word count ༄ 1129

notes ༄ happy belated birthday to the man who started it all! my first 2d love <3 dedicating this to my kakashi girlies: @honeylavendr, @strawberrystepmom, @purpleskyvenus @rookie98writes and @delirious-donna!

it’s late—too late to be up on a work night, you think as you glance out the window, curtains not yet drawn closed. the moon is suspended high in the black satin sky, countless stars twinkling in adoration, graced by her brilliance.

diffused lamplight and flickering candle flames illuminate your bedroom, their warmth bathing everything in a dusky orange. your nightstand acts as a makeshift workstation, tools at the ready: rose water spray, moisturizer, lip treatment, and a headband.

your boyfriend pads out of the bathroom shirtless, dark pajama pants slung dangerously low on his narrow hips. “all done,” kakashi announces before smoothing a large hand down your back and pressing his still-wet lips to your forehead.

“i told you to pat your skin dry after you washed your face,” you pout, wiping away the chilly droplets that prickle your skin in the wake of his kiss.

kakashi settles on the edge of your shared bed, feet firmly planted on the plush rug. when you first moved in with him, you insisted the rug would feel cozy under your feet on a cold morning—a stark contrast to the unforgiving hardwood floors of your apartment. as usual, you were correct.

your comfort is more important to kakashi than anything else; a truth he probably shouldn’t admit as hokage.

“i did my best, love,” he hums, pulling you in by the hips, lithe fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to knead the supple flesh.

you grip kakashi’s strong shoulders to keep your balance, willing yourself not to melt into him, knees trembling as he nuzzles your neck. his day-old silvery stubble grazes your throat and sets your nerves afire.

“can’t we just go to bed?” he murmurs, chapped lips moving hotly against your skin. your pulse thrums under his heady breath.

“kashi, you promised,” you whine—overdramatic? yes, but you’re eager to pamper him. “the sooner you cooperate, the sooner this is over,” you tease, pushing yourself away from him to swipe something from the nightstand. the ninja cocks a pale eyebrow when he sees the headband: cheap and fuzzy with a pair of pink and black cat ears.

ridiculous.

“to keep your hair out of your face,” you explain with a mischievous smirk as kakashi rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, tolerating your antics. he opens his mouth to speak, but clamps it shut when you comb your fingers through his unruly hair, pushing the snowy mane out of his face. gently, you slide the headband in place. tufts of hair poke out in front of his ears, his expression that of a disgruntled cat.

your lighthearted giggle has his slate irises fixed on your carefree radiance as he prods (voice betraying his amusement), “what’s so funny?”

you shake your head and press a delicate kiss to his cheek before grabbing the rose water spray. “nothing. you just look cute.”

“i think you’re the only person who would describe me as cute,” he chuckles, sharp incisors glinting in the low light. you think of contesting his statement, but his naïveté is endearing.

at your instruction, kakashi’s eyelids flutter shut. you spritz the rose water onto his face, the refreshing mist coating his skin, beading on his ivory eyelashes and at his cupid’s bow. you then pop the lid off of your moisturizer bottle, pumping some of the product onto your fingertips.

kakashi doesn’t ask what all the steps mean, nor do you feel the need to explain. he has watched you do your skincare routine day and night more times than he can count. he knows each product you use by name, what purpose they serve, and the order in which they need to be applied. it’s not like you asked him to memorize all of this; it’s just a habit of his—soaking in every detail about you, what you care about, and what you do.

as you massage the buttery moisturizer into his skin, your boyfriend keeps his thoughtful gaze on you: the furrow of your focused brow, the way your front teeth catch your bottom lip, the slight flare of your nostrils. your touch is featherlight as you rub tender circles of the product all over his face, careful to not get too close to his eyes, taking it up to his hairline and down his neck.

satisfied with your work, you rub the remnants of the moisturizer into your hands. kakashi seizes the opportunity to pull you into his lap and guide your legs to wrap securely around his waist.

“what?” you squeak in surprise.

“what?” kakashi parrots back, drinking in the alluring metamorphosis of your features from shock to annoyance to amusement.

you cup his face—large in your soft embrace—admiring the beauty of the man you love. “your skin is perfect, it’s not fair,” you playfully huff, smoothing your fingertips across his high cheekbones and down the distinct cant of his nose.

kakashi barks out a laugh, falling on the sheets to his back. you follow his lead, leaning over him, hair framing you both in privacy. “i’m pushing forty, my love. my skin is nowhere near perfect.” one of his scarred palms cradles your head while the other traces down your bare arm to rest on your waist. “you have youth on your side,” he rumbles, uncharacteristically wistful.

he isn’t wrong. there’s the jagged scar that bisects his left eye, a sigil borne of recklessness. kakashi once lived as though he had no future; life was merely death’s antechamber—a brutal purgatory of violence and meaningless suffering. he lived with no regard of himself as a person, but rather as a vessel of retribution, a tool to be hidden in the shadows away from light and life.

now, kakashi has proof of life, etchings across his flesh to mark the passage of time: his gambles and failures, his missteps and wrongs. but as your fingers map the planes of his face—fair skin, sinuous veins, laughter lines, dappled moles—you realize that his supposed shortcomings only make him more perfect to you. he’s just a man, after all. he’s fallible and flawed but he’s yours.

“your lips are a little chapped,” you warble as you reach over to the nightstand. you open up the jar of your favorite lip treatment and scoop out some of the balm using your pinkie.

as you move toward his mouth, kakashi catches your wrist, pearly eyes ablaze. without breaking eye contact, he leads your hand to his face, guiding it so that the product on your finger spreads across his lips. when your wrist falls, he wraps you in his arms, any space between your bodies too much to bear.

“you need to rub the balm in,” you whisper.

“sure,” your lover sighs before smearing his lips against your own.

[sc0tters]

The Day It Went Down | Trevor Zegras

summary: you haven’t seen Trevor for weeks, so when he lands up at your door you can’t help it when you fall back into old ways.

part one of the babies and buddies series

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v (unprotected), swearing.

word count: 1.66k

author notes: you guys have been waiting for this one but the Trevor and Hughes sister AU is officially here! I have been writing this piece for days late at night so a lot of it might not make sense but she’s here and she’s happy so we will accept here as it is.

To say you were surprised when he showed up at your door was an understatement.

It was a humid Californian afternoon and you had been sat on your floor getting ready for the a night out with friends when there was a knock at the door “Z?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened your door.

The boy took in your sight as you were currently sporting an orange dress that complimented your freshly painted nails “interesting look.” Trevor smiled motioning to the curling rollers that were still in your hair “may I?” He added as you nodded pushing your door open further to let him in.

Your living room hadn’t changed since the hockey player last saw it with everything including the pictures of your brothers and family scattered around your apartment. It reminded Trevor of just who you were “what do you want?” Your words weren’t meant to come out as harsh as they had done so “missed you.” Trevor’s confession came out soft and cute.

What one would have made you smile honestly made you want to pull your hair out “sure you aren’t meant to be saying that to Dixie?” Your arms crossed unintentionally pushing your breasts up “you jealous of her?” The hockey player smirked as he moved across the room to stand with you. The rumours of them had been coming thick and fast since April but now as you two were into June you figured that it only could have gotten more serious for the two of them.

Trevor let his hands run over the satin fabric of your dress as your hands reached up to pull the roller from your hair “why would I be jealous if you don’t want me?” You blinked raking your fingers through your hair “we were only just sleeping together after all.” Your words made him frown as it felt like a punch to the gut.

Twelve months ago you two ended up sharing a drunk night together after you were in the same bar that he was in celebrating a big win. You were stood at the bar waiting for a drink and that was truly all Trevor needed to come up and talk to you.

The boy sighed as he forced your face to look at his “we weren’t just sleeping together.” His finger brushed along your cheek “look I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes.” You sighed pushing away from him as you walked back to your room.

Trevor was hot on your tail as he grew alarmed “a date?” The words felt foreign as they danced on his tongue “what I do is none of your business now Trevor.” You laughed shaking your head.

It felt hypocritical coming from the boy “you think he could fuck you like I do?” Trevor walked up behind you letting his breath send shivers down your spine “he could fuck me even better.” You weren’t even going out with a guy but the boy clearly didn’t know that.

His hands pushed up your dress causing you to gasp “you sure about that baby?” The hockey player grunted running his finger along a high part of your thigh “if I felt your panties they wouldn’t be soaked?” He added watching as your head leaned back against his chest eyes rolling back into your head as your jaw went slack.

Your body melted at his touch “so dry,” the game you were playing was one that you were close to losing “tell me to stop and I will.” Trevor pulled your dress even higher revealing your black panties.

Instead of talking you remained silent letting out a little gasp as his fingers slipped under the fabric “please Z.” You begged finally giving the boy a green light to have his way with you.

The hockey player smirked moving his hand to cup your pussy “fucking hell baby.” Trevor groaned two fingers teasing your clit before he moved them down your slit to thrust them into your pussy.

Your soaked cunt wrapped around his fingers making you both feel hot “Trev.” You moaned as the hockey player used his other hand to wrap around your neck pushing your head up of that he could kiss your lips “I know baby, I know.” His lips were rough against yours as he let out a grunt squeezing his hand around your neck when your eyes locked onto his.

For someone who was getting ready for girls night you were surprisingly horny as you squeezed around the hockey players fingers “you enjoying this?” Trevor smirked watching your face contort in your mirror “huh baby?” He added as you remained quiet “don’t stop Z,” you begged bringing your hips to meet his fingers as he added his thumb focused his attention on your clit.

As you forced your ass against his cock he couldn’t help but grunt “I’m gonna come.” You announced forcing the movement of your hips to go quicker than before “not so fast baby.” Trevor clicked his tongue retracting his fingers from your panties “you thought it was going to be so easy to come when get dressed like this for someone else?” He laughed at the words as you spun around to finally face him.

Trevor looked down at you as he licked his lips like he had seen this as some kind of challenge “real fucking hypocritical of you.” You grumbled placing your hands on his chest as you pushed him back into your bed hit the back of his knees causing him to fall back bringing you with him “you think you. Can. Go. And. Fuck. Someone. Else. And. I. Can’t?” You kissed his lips between each word as your hands reached down to fiddle with the drawstring of the shorts.

The hockey player groaned watching your tongue dart out of your mouth as you focused on moving his cock out of his boxers “never fucked her.” Trevor confessed as your hand teased his cock rubbing up the skin “just you baby.” The boy felt his body shudder as you used his hardened head to tease your clit “I’m still on the pill.” You announced letting your cunt swallow his cock as you sank down on it.

Condoms were something you two had let leave your relationship months ago after you both realised that there was nothing hotter than you coming around his bare cock “shit baby.” Trevor grunted as he began to guide your hips letting you move.

It was hot as your hands went to his shoulder “you always feel so good.” The hockey player confessed as his forehead leaned against yours.

You didn’t want to admit it but you missed these intimate moments with anyone in general as you hadn’t slept with anyone since Trevor took a step back from his relationship with you “missed having me like this?” You smirked as you turned back to look at him.

The boy moaned as you clenched around his cock “thought about you all the time.” The hockey player mumbled as his fingers dug into your sides guiding your hips against his “what would Jack think about you saying that?” Your mention of your brother causing his one hand to brush at your clit “what would he think about you on top of me.” Trevor spat as he let his other hand reach out to slap your hand.

It was now clear that him letting you take control was now over as he had enough of your fun “pull that top off so I can see those pretty tits of yours.” He ordered making your cunt clench around his cock “shit Z,” you cried as you pulled the straps of your dress down bringing your bra with it “you’re so hot.” You added as he brought his lips down to your nipples letting his tongue swirl over the sensitive peaks.

Your fingers locked into his hair “don’t stop T,” your body began to shake “not so strong now are we?” Trevor smirked as you shook your head letting your hands cup his cheeks as you kissed him.

The sight of you two was almost amusing as you were both still fully clothed with your panties pulled to the side as you rode his cock “think you knew I was going to come back to you.” The hockey player confessed as his thumb that was once on your clit moved up to your stomach “feel me right here?” He added making you gasp as he pressed his hand against your skin forcing you to stare back at his eyes as their hardened gaze brought you closer to your high “so big.” You murmured letting your eyes screw shut.

You were still sensitive from the orgasm he never let you have “gonna come.” You cried out as you began letting your hips bounce as Trevor helped move them.

The sight of your breasts bouncing in his face made the boy groan as he let his head rest between them “so fucking beautiful,” Trevor mumbled as he looked up to watch you come.

You were scratching your fingers over his shirt as your body almost collapsed against him “you’re so good baby.” He cooed as his come shot into your cunt that practically soaked it in as your release mixed with his.

Trevor spun you over so that he was now on top of you as his cock slid out of your pussy “can’t have you wasting a drop of this.” The boy grumbled shaking his head as he used two fingers to bring his come back into your pussy.

Your body jumped as his fingers pushed back into you “what are you doing?” You asked blinking at him as he hovered over you “making up for lost time.” The hockey player explained letting his cock tease your clit again.

For now you were going to enjoy this, because it two weeks you were back at the lake house.

Where everything as you knew it would change, forever.