#HIS FLAT CHEST. HES MY PRINCESS. HES A MODEL..

[penaltyboxboxbox]

Lance Stroll photographed by Zak Mauger

[wonlovie]

— RACING, BEATING PART II read part i here

Months after your fateful night with Heeseung, you ask him to teach you how to race. Instead, he asks you to cheer him on at his next race.

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader, very brief cameo of mingyu from seventeen

— tags. arranged-marriage!au, pre-established relationship, minor angst (if u squint??), reader gets objectified, smut [unprotected sex (be safe!!), public sex, hint of pussy drunk heeseung, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, degrading (use of whore, slut; another man is mentioned during sex, kind of mean-dom!heeseung, car sex [MINORS DNI])

— word count. 6.2k (oops this was meant to be like 4k)

— notes. writing hee smut to songs like blossom and off your face is such a weird vibe PAHAHAH // reading part i isn't really necessary for this one, but it gives u context :)

“Teach me how to race.”

Heeseung blinked at you slowly, squinting his eyes as he put down the rag. You tried your best not to eye the way his muscles looked under his black tank top. He stood to his full height, leaving you breathless at the way the fabric lined his toned chest so damn well under the poor lighting. A pair of baggy jeans hung low on his hips, letting you see a sliver of his stomach.

With his car half polished, Heeseung stepped toward you. “Do you even have your license?”

You stared at him, offended. “Of course I do!” you snapped, huffing in indignation. “I got it as soon as it was legal for me to.”

“Baby,” he chuckled, raising a brow at you. “You don’t drive, though. Your driver takes you everywhere. And if not him, it’s me.” Wiping his hands on his dirtied jeans, Heeseung walked closer. You let out a noise of surprise when he suddenly tugged your arm, bringing you chest to chest. You gulped, looking deeply into those eyes that stared just as intensely as they did when you first met him.

His hand splayed across the small of your back as he pressed you flat against him. “What brought this up?” he asked, leaning in and leaving behind fleeting kisses on your cheek. Your knees felt weak as he gently nibbled on your earlobe, tongue swiping across your sensitive skin as he whispered in your ear. “Is my driving not good enough for you, princess?”

Heeseung lips pulled up into a smirk when your breath hitched, only parting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “No,” you stammered. “Just…”

“Just what?” he mumbled against your skin before suckling at your neck. You mentally groaned at the thought of going into your next shoot, all marked up for the umpteenth time. 

“Just wanted to try,” you murmured, gasping when he nipped at your jugular, his hand tightening on your waist. “That’s all.”

You could feel his stiffness pressing against your tummy, your fingers itching to take care of him. But when you moved to remove his belt, he smacked your hand away. You whined as he bit down on your shoulder, his hands actively groping your ass now. You sighed out his name, throwing your head back to give him more room.

The garage suddenly felt hotter than it was five minutes ago as Heeseung turned you around, pressing you against the front bumper of the cherry red car. He easily made room for himself, slotting his hips neatly between your thighs. He moved to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as you shifted your clothed cunt against his hardening length.

“Fuck,” he sighed out, kissing you again with fervour. A ringed hand wrapped itself around your neck, squeezing lightly as he pushed you to sit atop the car’s hood. Heeseung tugged at your shirt, pushing it up and over your breasts. He cupped you harshly, circling your nipples over the thin material of your sports bra. 

You whimpered his name, arching your back into his palm. “So needy for me,” he moaned against your lips as he brought his hips to yours. You felt the roughness of his jeans easily through your thin leggings, whining as the material rubbed against your clothed clit. You had no doubt that if he were to cup your sex, Heeseung would be able to feel just how soaked you were without even stripping you. “You want me, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasped in pleasure as he ducked his head to suck on the tops of your breasts, angry red kisses scattered over your skin. “Yes, please, Hee. Need you so badly,” you cried out his name in a broken moan when he pulled your bra down and brought your nipple to his hot mouth. His tongue circled the sensitive bud, his teeth scraping against it sinfully.

As he toyed with you, his tongue sending your brain into a frenzied state of pure want, his hands busied themselves with the hem of your pants. He dipped his fingers beneath the waistband, slipping the offending material down the expanse of your legs. The flimsy fabric fell to the dirtied ground, something you would have complained about if you were in a sane state of mind. But the way Heeseung’s deft fingers danced across your thighs before stroking up your cunt left you speechless.

“Shit,” he breathed out, dropping his head on your shoulder as he pushed your legs open wider. You had no doubt that your slick was dripping onto the hood of his newly polished car. “‘S good for me,” hissing, he inserted two fingers into your heat, giving you no time to prepare. A wide grin stretched over his face when you sobbed out his name; his gaze trained on the slope of your neck as you threw your head back in pleasure. “So wet, all from a few kisses?”

You whined, hips twitching. “Shut up,” you mumbled behind shaking hands, covering your flushed cheeks in embarrassment. “It’s not like you’re any better…”

Heeseung clicked his tongue, though he didn’t deny your claim. His cock was weeping with need inside his boxers, the hard length pulsing with every thrust of his fingers into your sopping cunt. “If you keep giving me that attitude, I’ll stop right now.” It was an empty threat, one that made you clench around his fingers pathetically nonetheless. He chuckled a low sound that sent shivers down your back. “Do you want me to stop?”

When his fingers halted, you cried out his name in desperation. You snapped your head up, feeling your eyes swell with tears. “You’re so mean,” you pouted, shuddering when the cool air of the garage suddenly brushed against your bare skin. “Heeseung, come on—”

He sighed, pulling his fingers out of you. He avoided your begging gaze, instead opting to stare at the wetness that coated his fingers. Finally looking up at you, he kept eye contact as he slowly licked his digits clean, his tongue sliding over his knuckles. “You know that’s not what I want to hear from you, princess.”

You looked away, humiliated, as you felt your ears heat up. “Please,” you whispered into the silent room. “Please fuck me, Hee.”

He grinned at you, tugging you closer by hooking his hands underneath your knees. He pressed a soft kiss against your knee before moving to unbuckle his pants. “Good girl,” Heeseung sighed as he released his length from the confines of his boxers. “Just keep being good for me, yeah? You’re gonna take it all, right baby?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer as he pressed his tip against your folds, the two of you moaning in unison. He slid his length over your pussy, spreading your juices over his hard cock. Heeseung’s jaw was agape as he fucked against your clit, chest heaving from the sensitivity. You watched closely as he slowly stroked himself, using your slick as a lubricant, enchanted with the way his eyes seemed to glaze over in pleasure, brows pinched tightly as he sighed out a few curses. 

“This is all mine,” he mumbled, leaning forward to latch his lips to yours in a messy kiss. Drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as you moaned into his mouth when he started easing himself into you. Despite how many times you’d had sex, his size never failed to leave you breathless. 

Once he bottomed out, Heeseung murmured your name against your neck as he left behind more love bites. His cock twitched inside you as he urged himself not to fuck you relentlessly. The way your pussy clenched around him sporadically had his mouth parting in high moans. He bit down on your shoulder again as he shallowly thrusted, his arms wrapping around your middle tightly.

You moaned at the weight of his upper body pressing you against the hood of the car, the cool aluminum contrasting with his burning touch. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you silently urged him to go harder, faster.

Using his hold on you to keep you in place, he picked up his pace, pulling out until just the tip was left inside before harshly thrusting back into you. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the empty garage. If anyone were to come down to the parking garage, the unmistakable sound of your wet cunt being plowed into would have tipped them off right away.

“Hee,” you sobbed as he went faster, feeling every vein and curve of his dick rub against your gummy walls. “Fu-ck, baby, I’m so close,” your words slurred together as you clutched onto Heeseung’s wide shoulders, clawing down the fabric of his shirt.

“Already?” he panted, looking up at you through his bangs. He reached up, pushing your hair out of your face. His fingers grasped your chin, forcing you to hold your head up. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut when you clamped around him. “C’mon, babe,” he whispered, looking into your eyes as he went deeper. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His words didn’t match his actions as he reached down to thumb at your swollen clit, your hips instantly jutting upwards in overstimulation. You all but screamed his name, tears flowing down your cheeks. He let go of your face, only to push one of your legs up against your torso. The change in position lets him reach a spot deeper within you. Your name left his throat in a broken whisper, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried not to cum earlier than he wanted to.

When you heard the sound of a roaring engine coming closer, your eyes opened wide as you tried to find the source. However, when you turned your head, Heeseung made you look back at him. “What is it?” he asked breathlessly, raising a brow at you as he slowed his hips, grinding into you at a snail’s pace. “Don’t wanna get caught, huh? Don’t want my neighbours to see how much of a whore you are?” 

With each word, he delivered a particularly harsh thrust. You bit your hand in a futile attempt to keep quiet, but the sound of his hips slamming against yours did little to hide the naughty position you were in. 

Heeseung smiled almost sadistically as he watched you try to keep quiet, his ego inflating from the way you were utterly failing. You glared at him through teary eyes as you heard someone park and exit their car, the loud beep of the locking mechanism making you jump. Heeseung’s car was parked in the far corner, somewhere not many of the other residents liked to park due to the distance they’d have to walk. Though, if the person looked in your direction, there would be no hiding what you were doing.

As the steps got closer to the elevator and closer to you, Heeseung started to move faster, his hips just shy of slapping against yours. “Lee Heeseung,” you hissed, trying to push his hips away as you tried looking over his shoulder warily.

You heard the elevator doors open and close, the whirring noise of it moving upstairs making your heart race in anticipation. Once it was quiet for a few seconds, Heeseung abruptly continued fucking you relentlessly. His eyes were narrowed as he watched your face contort in pleasure, a frown tugging at his lips from your previous attempt at stopping him.

“Just try to stop me like that next time,” he spat, leaning back as he brought your legs over his shoulders. “See where it gets you.” Despite his cruel words, his thumbs rubbed gentle circles over your thighs, greatly contrasting his bruising thrusts.

He eyed you like a predator with his prey, gaze darting from your fucked out expression to the bounce of your breasts. He gripped your waist, groping at your sides as he felt his orgasm near. Heeseung’s head dropped, his hair sticking to his forehead from exertion. You blindly reached for him, eyes screwed closed in rapture. 

He moved to take your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as he pressed them against the car, next to your head. His other hand dropped from your thigh back down to your clit as he rubbed circles again. “Cum,” Heeseung gasped, the drag of his cock against your tight core making him see stars. “Come on, baby. Want you to cum around my cock. You’ll do that for me, right? Be good,” he moaned.

You clenched around him, nails digging into the back of his hand that enclosed yours. “Close,” you whimpered.

Heeseung moved faster, causing incoherent babbles to fall from his hips as he neared overstimulation. His cock twitched, the first syllable of your name barely sounding from his pretty pink lips before he came. He moaned loudly, his hips faltering for only a second before he kept going. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whined, eyes tightly closed. His thumb moved faster over your clit, desperate to push you over the edge.

You came almost violently, your back arching as your thighs trembled. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you felt white hot lust wash over you, your gummy walls hugging him tightly as you milked him dry. Heeseung held the back of your head as he brought you in for a kiss, the both of you struggling to keep your lips locked as his hips stuttered into you.

He helped you ride through your orgasm, only stopping when you began to whine from the overstimulation, pushing his chest away weakly. Heeseung watched himself as he pulled out of you, sighing in ecstasy at the sight of his cum messily pooling out of you and onto the car.

You stayed there, breathless as Heeseung pulled his pants back up and quickly moved around to get something from the front seat. He returned with a few tissues, gently wiping at your sensitive cunt until you were mostly clean. Picking up your pants, he quickly shook off any dirt before helping you put them on.

“Let’s go up to my apartment,” he mumbled as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple. “We can take a bath together.” He held you tenderly as he eased you off the car, holding you up when your knees shook. He hurriedly put his supplies into the trunk before taking your hand and guiding you to the elevator, the loud beep of his car letting you know it was locked behind you.

“So?”’

He looked at you over his shoulder. “So, what?”

“Will you teach me?”

He looked at you in disbelief before laughing, turning his head from you to hide his wide grin. “Come watch me race first,” he proposed. “Then we’ll see about getting you behind the wheel.

Although you’ve known Heeseung for almost a year, you’ve never actually seen him race. Not if you excluded the first time he’d brought you to the race track, but that was nothing compared to the street race you found yourself at.

There were dozens of people gathered, bystanders excited to watch the long-awaited race. When Heeseung pulled up, you shivered at just how cold it was, the night air nipping at the skin beneath your short skirt. “Here,” Heeseung said quietly, handing you one of his hoodies from the back seat.

You took it gratefully, pulling it over your thin top and sighing when his smell invaded your senses. He smiled at the sight of you settling into his clothing, ruffling his hair before he walked off, telling you that he had to go prepare with the other drivers. “The guys are here somewhere,” he told you before he left. “I think Jungwon said he’d be waiting near the start line for you so you guys can watch together.”

You waved at his back, even though he couldn’t see you. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Jungwon rather quickly. His newly dyed red hair stood out like a sore thumb, something you silently thanked him for as you moved to rush closer. As you neared, you opened your mouth to call his name, but before you could, someone blocked your vision of him.

Pausing, you looked up at the person. He was tall, taller than Heeseung, and his eyes pierced into your soul uncomfortably. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze as you tried to move around him. The man, however, had no plans to let you leave as he side-stepped in front of you.

You looked back up at him with a slightly peeved look in your eye, a frown tugging at your lips impatiently. He paid no mind to your expression, instead smiling at you. “I’ve never seen you at a race,” he said, his deep voice making you feel uneasy. “Think you have the wrong place, princess.”

Hearing the nickname that you loved, only when it came from Heeseung, made you grimace. “I definitely don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” You tried to move around him again, only for him to stand in front of you. “What is your problem?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low.

He only laughed at you, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, princess. I just wanted to get to know you better.” He stepped closer to you, reaching out to grab your wrist before you could back up. “C’mon. After the race, I can show you back to my place and—”

“If you don’t get your hands off of her, I will run you over.”

Both you and the man snapped your heads in the direction of the voice, your eyes widening when you saw Heeseung standing there. He stood up straight, a glower overtaking his usually soft features. Ripping your hand out of the strange man’s grasp, you quickly moved to Heeseung’s side.

The man looked back and forth between you and Heeseung, realization coming to him when Heeseung grasped your hand and pulled you behind him. “I see,” he laughed loudly, though there was nothing jovial in his tone. “Didn’t know she was yours, Lee. You brought a hot girl for once.”

You could’ve sworn you heard Heeseung growl as his grip on you tightened. “What do you want, Mingyu? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the race?” He clearly didn’t expect an answer as he turned to you. His mouth opened to say something, but before he could voice his thoughts, the man, Mingyu, interrupted him.

“If I beat you tonight, I want her.”

You felt your blood run cold as you tensed, Heeseung’s eyes flitting over to you in concern before he glared at Mingyu. Taking hold of both of your shoulders, Heeseung pushed you further away from him to block you from Mingyu’s sight. “What?” he spat, glaring at the taller male with hatred pouring from his tongue. “Fuck off, Mingyu.”

He turned to you. “The race is starting soon. Jungwon’s waiting over there, so—”

Mingyu scoffed before gesturing to the crowd. “Hey, everyone!” he cupped his mouth as he spoke. In an instant, the chatter around you ceased, and people turned to look at the commotion. You made eye contact with Jungwon, who quickly assessed the situation and tried squeezing his way toward you. If it weren’t for the tense atmosphere, you would have laughed at the way his eyes bulged, his lips clearly mouthing an oh shit as he hurried. 

Mingyu continued once he had everyone’s attention. “Your dear Heeseung here,” Mingyu pointed to Heeseung, who stood rigidly in front of you. “The one you all love to cheer for, he’s nothing but a coward—” Mingyu smirked, looking directly at you, “—who doesn’t think he can race well enough to keep his bitch.”

Heeseung seethed, fists clenching at his sides as he mentally willed himself to ignore Mingyu. He turned to you, pushing you toward Jungwon, who had finally reached you. “Go with him.”

You balked at him, eyes rounding in incredulity. “Uh, no, not until you fight for me?” You raised a brow at him, taking in his shocked expression. “Like, right now, Heeseung. I know you’ll win against that loser, so just…” you paused, looking over Heeseung’s shoulder at Mingyu, who stared in wait. “So just bet for his car or something. Ruin him for me, yeah?”

Heeseung gaped at you for a moment before his usual confidence seeped back into his expression. “You’re fucking crazy,” he mumbled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you impossibly close. “I like how you think.”

You heard the announcer calling for all drivers to meet at the start line with their vehicles and grinned at Heeseung as he kissed you one more time before walking off. You watched his back as he caught up to Mingyu, no doubt telling him about the bet. You could tell from the way Mingyu’s shoulders tensed, and he glanced over at you and then to his car.

Jungwon looked at you with an amused grin on his face. “You know, you and Heeseung are so right for each other sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at him, tugging him back to where he waited for you before. “Come on, Wonnie. I don’t want to miss the race.”

The race was just as exhilarating as the race at the track, if not more. Your eyes trained on Heeseung’s red car as the five drivers lined up next to each other. It was deafening; between the loud cries of the souped-up cars and the cheering crowd, you knew your ears would be buzzing by the end of the night.

You barely registered that Mingyu was seated in the black car next to Heeseung’s, catching the way they glared at each other through their windows. You held your breath as the flag girl stood in front of the awaiting racers, both hands gripping onto a green flag. In a split second, she waved them, the green fabric fluttering in the cool night air; all five cars had zoomed away. 

From where you stood, you couldn’t tell if any car had a lead on the others, the screech of tires against asphalt slowly quieting as they drove further and further away. Beside you, Jungwon tugged on your—Heeseung’s—hoodie sleeve. “Let’s go watch by the screens.”

You followed aimlessly, reaching an area where a few large screens had been set up. On them, you could see footage of the race as the cars were followed by what you presumed was a drone. Easily spotting Heeseung’s red vehicle, you watched attentively. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously as Heeseung and Mingyu’s cars easily overtook the other three.

“He’s going too fast,” Jungwon mumbled beside you in worry. “The route’s full of sharp turns. If he keeps that speed, he’s going to spin out really quickly.” You looked at Jungwon with concern before looking back at the screen.

Though you knew virtually nothing about racing, even you could tell that what Jungwon was saying was true. A map of the whole route was displayed alongside the drone footage, showing several turns before the racers would make their way back to the starting line. “Don’t be stupid, Hee,” you whispered into your palm, hugging the fabric of the hoodie closer. 

At the first sharp turn, you winced as Heeseung’s car spun slightly, leaving angry black lines on the road before he zoomed off again. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, though he took the turn slower than Heeseung had. Heeseung’s drift halted his momentum, allowing Mingyu to pull ahead. Beside you, you heard Jungwon breathe in deeply, but you paid no heed to it.

By the second turn, Heeseung had caught up but was still slightly behind. As Mingyu turned, his back tire bumped against the curb, slowing him down ever so slightly. You didn’t let yourself relax, even when Heeseung drove ahead. It looked like he was going even faster than before, evident by the numerous track marks he was leaving at each turn.

The race went on similarly, with Heeseung pulling ahead only for Mingyu to overtake him and vice versa. As they neared the last turn, you were able to hear the sound of shifting gears and engines that roared impossibly louder. Suddenly, the crowd around you began dispersing, the people filtering through the nearby alleyways like rats. 

You turned to Jungwon, who looked panicked. “Cops,” he ushered, turning to leave. “If they catch us here, we’re done for.” He grabbed at your arm. You hesitated, looking back at the screen just in time to see Heeseung spin out. Just then, you saw the flashing lights of a cop car near them.

“But, what about—”

Jungwon shook his head. “Heeseung knows what to do, don’t worry. But he will kill me if he finds out I let you get nabbed by the police, so let’s go.” You spared one last glance at the screen, relieved to see Heeseung get back onto the track. Biting your lip in worry, you allowed Jungwon to drag you away.

You hid in his car, parked a few blocks away. Jungwon was quick to pull up the drone feed onto his phone—how, you weren’t sure—but by the time he had it on, both Heeseung’s car and Mingyu’s car were nowhere to be seen. After a minute, the drone footage turned off completely, leaving you and Jungwon in the silence of his car. You could still hear the blaring police sirens in the distance.

“You think he’s okay?” you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungwon offered you a kind smile, though it did nothing to ease your nerves. “Don’t worry about Heeseung. He’s been doing this longer than any of us have. If anyone knows how to win a race while evading the cops, it’s him.”

“But don’t you think he would’ve said something by now if he got away?” you asked, the results of the race far in the back of your mind. “What if they actually caught him and arrested him?”

Jungwon shrugged. He was worried about his friend, of course, but his worry seemed minute compared to yours. “You have money, don’t you? Bail him out.”

You resisted the urge to lunge at Jungwon with closed fists. “Won, if he goes to jail, his father will find out, and he—”

A knock at the passenger side window made you jump. You turned quickly, relief washing over your body as you met eyes with a smug-looking Heeseung. You quickly got out of the car, wrapping your arms around Heeseung’s neck as you hugged him tightly. “Never do that to me again,” you gasped, burying your face into his shirt.

Heeseung chuckled, pressing a kiss against your forehead. He looked at Jungwon through the windshield, smiling at him in quiet thanks. You ignored the sound of Jungwon’s car pulling away from the curb, never taking your face out from the nook of his neck.

“Were you worried about me or something?”

You finally moved back, glaring weakly at Heeseung. “Or something?” you echoed, scoffing. “Or something—the absolute gall of men. Of course, I was worried!” You smacked his shoulder, frowning at him as he held the area, pretending as though you had mortally wounded him. “Jungwon pulled me away just as you spun out near the end, and the cops were right behind you and—”

Heeseung interrupted you with a kiss, cupping your jaw tenderly as he moved closer. He rested on hand on your hip, rubbing shapes into your skin under the hoodie as he kissed you gently. You sighed, all the tension escaping your body as you kissed back, relishing in the way his lips caressed yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “I should have told you that happens sometimes. The guys and I have a protocol in case the cops show up, but with everything that happened before the show, I guess I forgot.”

You hummed. That must have been how he found you and Jungwon so quickly. “It’s fine. Just don’t… don’t ever scare me like that.”

Heeseung smiled at you, kissing your forehead lightly. “It’s like you love me or something,” he said jokingly. Something in his eyes said he cared more than he was letting on, his dark brown hues flitting back and forth as he tried to read your expression.

When you said nothing in response, only looking away bashfully, a wide grin overtook Heeseung’s features. Capturing you in one more deep kiss, he pulled away with a giddy expression. “I love you too, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, his intense yet loving gaze making you feel weak to the knees.

Pulling away, much to your displeasure, Heeseung straightened out your hoodie and flattened your tousled hair. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

You frowned, but you let him tug you along the empty streets. “Hee, I don’t know how many surprises I can stomach tonight.”

Heeseung only laughed, not replying to you as he pulled you down an alleyway. You were wary but trusted him enough that you didn’t say anything about the sketchy route he was taking you down. Once you emerged on the other side of the alley, you were shocked to see his red car. Behind it was Mingyu’s black Cadillac. 

It took a second for you to process what you were seeing, but when you turned to look at Heeseeung, he held up a pair of keys that you knew didn’t belong to his car. “You won?” you gasped, grinning with pride as you inspected the keys closer. 

Heeseung scoffed, pressing a button on the fob. Immediately, the headlights of Mingyu’s car flashed, confirming your thoughts. You squealed in excitement, hugging him tightly. “What,” he laughed, holding you with one arm. “You didn’t believe me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, scrunching your nose. “Of course I did, but I was a little preoccupied.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in to peck your lips. You chased him as he pulled away, cheeks flushing warmly when Heeseung grinned shamelessly at you. “Get in the backseat.”

You paused. “The backseat? Why—”

Heeseung urged you backwards toward the car, taking your lips once more. “Just get in,” he rasped, opening the door for you. You were quick to follow his words, quickly bombarded with Heeseung’s deep and slow kisses as he closed the door behind him.

He crawled over you, moaning your name lowly as you dragged a nail down his front. Once you reached the belt buckle, you ran a finger over the cold metal slowly. “Stop teasing,” he gasped when you lightly traced over the outline in his pants. 

For once, you listened, and quickly unbuckled the belt, flicking the button of his pants open and pushing them down enough for you to grab at his hardening length. He hissed, the vague sound of your name spilling from his lips as he lurched forward.

Gently, you pushed him back until he was sitting and got on your knees between his thick thighs. It wasn’t comfortable by any means, the back of the car left very little room for you to sit comfortably, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care with the way Heeseung’s cock twitched needily in your hand or the way his angry red tip oozed precum.

You looked up at him through your lashes as you leaned forward, licking at the mushroom tip lightly. He groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. Relishing in his reaction, you took his length between your lips, sucking him gently. His hips twitched, forcing his dick further into your mouth and making you gag.

“Shit, sorry,” he rushed, straightening to take himself out of your mouth. You quickly pushed his worrying hands away, taking him deeper in your mouth defiantly. His mouth fell as he let out a loud groan, your name on the tip of his tongue. He watched closely as you bobbed your head up and down, slowly thrusting to meet your movements.

You reached down to grab at his balls, massaging them in tandem with your head movements. The way you swirled your tongue around his length had Heeseung gasping for air. His thrusts grew more aggressive; a hand reached to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place as he fucked into your wet cavern relentlessly.

Heeseung caressed his knuckles against the length of your hollowed cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted his thrusts. Tears burned your eyes, the back of your throat sore from his abuse. The sound of wet slick and choking gasps almost rivalled your heartbeat as you stared up at the man.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a whine, head thrown back against the leather seats as he groaned loudly. “Fuck, fuck, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.” His lips parted, and ruby red lipstick smudged over his visage, staining the silver lip ring. Heeseung’s jaw dropped as you swallowed around his cock, a series of long, winded whines coming from the back of his throat.

“Shit, princess. Gonna make me cum,” he warned you, dropping his head down to look at you through hooded eyes. His newly dyed black hair fell over his irises, obscuring them from view. His face pinched in pleasure as he lifted his hips against your plush lips. “You’ll take it for me, yeah? Swallow every last drop like the good little whore you are.” His nails dug into your scalp.

You pressed your thighs together, the carpet floor of the backseat rubbing harshly against your bare knees. The dress you’d worn, a little black number that you picked out just for Heeseung, had ridden up to your waist. The fabric bunched prettily around your hips, showing off that you had forgone undergarments.

He watched you breathlessly, eyes darting from your teary eyes to the way your little mouth took him so well. He didn't miss the way you tried to covertly rub yourself, thighs moving slowly—a futile attempt to feel something against your aching clit.

His cock twitched against your tongue as you licked at a jutting vein, a perfectly manicured hand coming up to cup his aching balls. He watched tenderly as you switched from suckling on his angry red tip to taking his length fully, your nose tickling against his happy trail. His thrusts grew wild, a loss in rhythm suggesting he was close.

“Gonna paint your mouth white, baby,” he hissed, tugging at your matted strands. “God, you look so pretty covered in my cum. Wanna make a mess out of you so bad. You want that, don’t you? Want me to make you look messy, baby—fuck! You like getting fucked like this in another man’s car?” An almost pornographic moan escaped his throat as his grip on your hair tightened. “Such a little slut. Getting on your knees for me like this. I bet Mingyu couldn’t fuck you this well,” he thrust harshly into your mouth as he uttered the other man’s name, anger pulling his brows together tightly.

You whined, your muffled tone vibrating against his dick. He cried out your name, low moans tumbling from his pretty lips as he came, shooting hot and thick ropes of cum down your throat. You blinked away tears, a burning sensation left behind as he pulled his length out from your mouth. Spurts of cum spilled from his tip, and you lolled your tongue out as Heeseung dragged it over your face.

His chest heaved as he stared at you, adoringly as though he was admiring his art. “Fucking hell,” he hushed, tugging you impatiently onto his lap. You fell clumsily against him, legs bumbling to straddle his small waist. You moaned in unison when your dripping core rubbed against his cum and saliva-coated cock, your hips twitching in anticipation.

Heeseung sighed out your name against your lips as he cupped your cheek with a large hand, not caring that his release was getting everywhere. The coolness of his rings made you shiver as he pulled you in for a kiss. His mouth moved against yours slowly, his tongue flicking out against your lip. His kiss was hot and wet, his tongue caressing yours in a way that made you crumble atop his lap. 

“Fuck, baby,” he spoke against your lips, a dazed look in his eyes as he bore into you. Heeseung’s hips weakly thrust upward, pressing his wet cock against your core. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

At his confession, not the first of the night, you teared up. He wiped away your tears, bringing you in for another kiss as he guided his sensitive length to your entrance. He cried out in a whimper against your lips as he felt your hot walls clench around him. 

“I love you,” he whispered again drunkenly as you fully bottomed out, the stickiness of his previous orgasm coating the underside of your thighs. You kissed him desperately, uttering those three words back to him as he held your waist tightly. 

Your night had just started, and with the way Heeseung wasted no time in fucking into you roughly, you knew it’d be a long one.

taglist ! @beomgyusonlywife @rbf-aceu @enhastolemyheart @jaeyunsleftnostril @deobitifull @jenowhere @moonchus @1-800shutthefuckup @lilriswife4life @ni-kisgf @fakeuwus @tya0 @chickenscoups @in-somnias-world

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[mariclerc]

In your own skin | gr63

Summary: The moment doubts and criticisms of your body reappear, but you have a boyfriend who reminds you that you are perfect for him.

Warning: None, only George being such a sweetheart and a softie, insecure reader.

a/n: Writing this was very personal, as I often go through the same thing, I just wish I had a George to tell me how special I am. I hope you like it!! <3

Soft moonlight spills through the window of the bedroom, illuminating the rumpled bed and the figure on it. Your boyfriend George, watches you with sleepy affection as you stand barefoot in front of the full-length mirror. The moonlight paints your figure in silver, outlining the curves you seem to find so objectionable.

“There, do you see it? It's just wrong... So wrong, like everything.” You said while whispering to yourself. “I wish I was someone else...”

You pinch your stomach, wincing at the soft flesh. George stirs on the bed, his brow furrowing.

“Wrong? What's wrong, honeybunch?”

He throws off the covers and pads over to you, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. He cups your face in his hands, turning you towards him. Your eyes flit away from his gaze, but he lifts your chin gently, forcing you to meet his warm blue eyes.

“Everything George, just... I mean, look at me... My stomach, it's all... puffy. My thighs, they're like tree trunks. My hips are so big, they stick out and make me look strange... And my chest, it's flat as a board.” You whispered as you sobbed a little. “I feel so strange in my own body.”

You said practically crying your eyes out, a flicker of pain crosses George's face, quickly replaced by a soft smile. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

“Hey, hey! Stop that princess... Don't talk about yourself like that, you're incredible.”

His hand trails down your torso, fingers brushing over the curve of your waist.

“Your thighs? They hold you up, they let you run like fire. Your chest... those aren't boards, baby. They're perfect for fitting right here. Your hips? Oh damn, your hips... They're the ones I like to hold when we're doing... You know.”

He pulls you against him, resting his chin on your shoulder. You blush a little at the last thing he said, you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, a comforting rhythm that seems to whisper away your anxieties. You always had these insecurities regarding your physical appearance, and comparisons with other girls and although you consider yourself a healthy girl and other people say that you look good the way you are, you can't help but compare your body with other bodies.

“And your stomach? It's soft. It's where I like to kiss you goodnight. Where I like to feel you rise and fall when you sleep. It's so perfect baby.”

He reaches down, tracing the line of your ribs with his fingertips. You shiver, caught between the fire of his touch and the chill of your own self-perception.

“But... you see all the models, George. They're like goddesses! So thin, so perfect, and I'm...”

His lips cut you off, silencing the doubt in your voice. The kiss is slow, gentle, infused with an unspoken promise. His hands gently roam your back, fingers dancing along the curve of your spine.

“Forget the models, darling. They're not real, you are! And you're everything I've ever wanted... Every curve, every shadow, every whisper of your skin. You're my goddess, my perfect imperfection.” He said with calm and sweetness in his voice.

His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity. You lean into him, tears prickling at your eyes, not of sadness anymore, but of a fragile hope blooming in your chest.

“Do you really mean that?” You asked quietly.

“With every beat of this stupid, racing heart, sweetheart. Now come here.”

He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you back to the bed. You snuggle into his warmth, his scent calming your nerves. As he kisses your forehead, his voice murmurs against your skin.

“Close your eyes, darling. And when you wake up, remember, I see you. And I love you... All of you. Just the way you are.”

Under the pale sheets, nestled in the gentle curve of George's arms, you drift in and out of sleep. His steady breaths are a lullaby, and the warmth of his hand on your bare shoulder grounds you. The echoes of his words linger in your mind, a soft mantra against the whispers of doubt.

***

As dawn paints the sky with streaks of gold and pink, George stirs beside you. He stretches, his bare torso catching the light, and then turns to you with a sleepy smile.

“Mhm, good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you sleep well darling?”

You manage a small smile, still hesitant. “Better than usual, if I'm honest.”

He leans in, brushing a little kiss to your forehead. “Good. Now, are you hungry babe? I think the croissants downstairs are calling my name! Want to join me?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, a flicker of determination in your eyes. Maybe today, you can face the mirror with a different perspective. Maybe, just maybe, George's words can be your armor against the whispers of insecurity.

“Sure babe, just... give me a minute. I need to find something comfy to wear.”

He nods and winks. “Take your time honey, I'll just say that you look beautiful in everything... Even in pajamas.”

As he disappears into the kitchen, you stand before the mirror again. This time, you take a deep breath, trying to see yourself through George's eyes. You trace the curve of your hip, the line of your collarbone, the soft swell of your stomach. It's not the body of a goddess, you know, but it's yours. It's the body that has carried you through laughter and tears, through joy and sorrow. It's the body that George loves, the body that holds the beating pulse of your own unique soul.

And maybe, just maybe, that's enough for you.. It's even enough for him.

You pick out a flowy dress, its gentle fabric skimming your skin without clinging. As you walk into the kitchen, George whistles, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Oh my word, baby! You look... radiant! You look like an angel!”

He pulls out a chair, gesturing for you to sit. You take a bite of the croissant, savoring the buttery sweetness. It tastes different today, somehow richer, more alive. Maybe it's the sunshine streaming through the window, maybe it's the warmth of George's hand on yours... Or maybe, just maybe, it's the quiet bloom of self-acceptance taking root within you.

The day stretches before you, an open canvas. There will still be moments of doubt, flashes of insecurity. But now, you have a new anchor, a whispered promise of love that reminds you: you are beautiful, exactly as you are. And that, perhaps, is the most perfect imperfection of all.

[unusual-raccoon]

So is dork ass Viserys, loser nerd that he is, aware of genderswapped teenage Daemon's obsession with him? Or is it a common occurence for anyone in the castle to see Daemon "sexily" draped over the nearest flat surface, making eyes at Viserys, meanwhile Viserys is staring at the sky all "look Daemon, that cloud is shaped like a cat! How marvelous! Are you looking Daemon? The cloud my girl, look!"

Viserys innocently calls Daemon "my girl" all the time

First of all, anon, thank you for this ask.

‘My girl’ I’m gonna scream, he would 🥹.

What do we call fem!Daemon? Daena?

Flat chested, big-eared, Alyssa Targaryen copy n’pasted feral little sister constantly trying to seduce her older brother. Their father has had it with them 😤 (Baelon you CANNOT talk).

You know she’s up to something when she’s wearing a dress. Normally it’s a doublet/jerkin and trousers, but no no no, you know she’s scheming when she’s dressed befitting her station as a princess.

She’d be draped over Viserys’ desk while he’s reading about histories (absolutely outraged that he’s paying attention to some musty book instead of her) or laying on his bed while he sketches pages upon pages of what would eventually be become his model of Old Valyria.

Daena? (We’re going with that until we come up with something better) getting into ale house brawls because she’s a lawless unrepentant heathen and letting Viserys clean her up before morning so their father doesn’t find out.

“My brother, the maester,” she’d giggle, smelling of ale and blood as Viserys pinched the reddened bridge of her nose to stop the bleeding.

She’d definitely try to coax him out of his shell, though Viserys wasn’t shy per se.

“You should come with me to Flea Bottom,” she’d say, voice nasally while Viserys was stemming the blood from her nose, sopping up the mess, that tinged her pale skin copper, with torn linens.

“Why is that?” He’d ask.

Daena would shrug, silver hair swaying, “There are brothels - girls, in Flea Bottom.”

Viserys would offer a small smile.

“And why should I want any girls in Flea Bottom for company, when I have you?” His touch on the bridge of her nose feather-light. Her head is tilted back, the taste of hot iron sliding down her throat. Blood the dragon. She smiles, all teeth and lunges for his mouth.

———

To answer your question, anon - he is very aware. Some might even say he’s playing hard to get…

[kshira]

may I request kazutora with a reader who's scared to have sex for the first time with him bc they feel like their body won't meet his expectations? Like they've seen all the posters of bikini models in his bedroom and feel super insecure. Body worship would be so good 🥺

-ˏˋ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA ˊˎ-

wc: 785

tw: fem!reader, mentions of insecurity, sweet love making, praise, body worship, kazutora being a gentlemen as always, dom!w/sub reader

an: this was supposed to be a thirst and it ended up being way longer than that, but this needed to be done <3

blackness engulfed your vision from the moment the lamp hit vague and your eyesight was poor. you could feel kazutora fingers slide against your exposed bare skin, leaving soft kisses down your stomach.

the singe of your mind carried you somewhere else—there it was again, that pain. you’d seen the countless posters of women deemed perfect by society loosely hung on his walls. the flawless tits, idealistic body, and how it bored holes in you every moment you saw it, almost like it was taunting you.

kazutora fumbles with your shirt, literally playing on instinct as he hikes it over your head—you stifle the thoughts, raising your hands to help it off with ease. kazutora can’t see a damn thing, his hands awkwardly running over your bare chest, digits tragically attempting to twirl the perked nipples.

“m’love you so much” kazutora whispers, seemingly lower to your face now—lips crashing when he finally finds them, tongues dancing as his hand lays flat on your stomach, creeping towards your heat. there’s that thought again; wandering in your mind till it catches up to your body. you run still, frozen and cold to his touch kazutora finds your face within the blackness cradling it between a finger “what’s wrong angel?” he asks so innocently, swiping his thumb over your warm cheek.

and you have to admit it’s embarrassing telling him why you felt this way, why your body would never match the qualities of the women slapped on his wall, why you don’t deem worth of him. you want to see his expressions right now but that’d be an impossible fret, it’d show your body naked—and you don’t want that. “why would you say that baby? why?”

kazutora shifts his weight over you, laying between your spread legs, his hands built around your face, you can almost feel wetness dripping on your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful.. so beautiful” he hums, pressing his forehead against yours. “i want to turn on the lights now, can i?” you’re hesitating an answer, unsure of the pace this would set but on the other hand, you want to understand his motives.

your answer is meek, clouded by an insecurity tacked to the response. kazutora body glimmers under the harsh lights swallowing the darkness when the light appears, his lean body gently moving back to his position between you, the soft touch of his hands skimming against your skin. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” kazutora says, fingers hooking onto your panties and rolling them from your chilled legs. “i know you don’t believe it” he carries the conversation himself, your short body language suffice for an answer—for now.

“so watch—” kazutora voice is soft but there’s a harsh tint to the words “watch me fuck you the way you deserve.” his hands spread your legs further apart, cold air fluttering through your cunt as he runs a nimble finger through it. his body feels warm against yours, tits pressed against his chest as he aligns his cock at your hole “so tight for me princess” kazutora groans, pushing his cockhead through your folds, the stretch tightly gripping him as he slowly starts to rock into your pussy.

his hands pull your hands above your head, intertwining the digits while his cock drags against your velvet walls, body twitching under his touch. “you’re so perfect for me” your face nestles against his neck, whining at his strokes inside you—tender lips pressed against your forehead when he snaps his hips faster, pounder harder.

“do you hear how wet you are? how this pretty pussy gushes for me?” kazutora clings to your lips, tongue lapping inside your mouth, those posters on his wall feel like a distant memory now, the taste of feeling beautiful swirls in your mouth when kazutora cries and whines inside you.

“you make me feel this good, you’re so beautiful—nobody, nothing compares to you, my pretty girl.” the traces of white specks your vision, slowly tormenting eyesight as the warmth in your stomach pools over. the way kazutora moves inside you is indescribable, treating your body like a temple only he worships, hands tracing over places you hate—but he fucking loved.

“i’m already about to cum—you see baby? you do this to me, make me fuckin’ cum this quick” kazutora hips drill harder inside you, the pooling heat running down your cunt till liquid gushes all around him, his thrusts growing slow as he paints your walls with thick white ribbons. kazutora cradles your face within his palms, open mouth kisses littered across your face whilst he reaches your lips “you’re so beautiful, and i will always be here to remind you of that.”

[spideymarvelws]

A threesome with tom × reader × Harrison when they become roommates PLEASE could you include... spanking? 😸

im sorry if this is so bad sdhvcwdhcvps the beginning is a bit shaky but i finally sat my ass down and wrong something so i hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Warnings : dom/sub undertones, spanking, mild degrading and humiliation, tom and haz being little teasing shits

Word Count : 1.8k

Roommates With Benefits

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader x Tom Holland

“And that’s pretty much it. Oh! And you could always just put Percy’s bowl and bed next to Tessa’s. I’m sure she won’t mind, very sweet girl,” Tom smiled, pushing the tips of his fingers into the pockets of his jeans as he led you back to the kitchen.

“We’d love another dog in the house! Just be warned if you ever leave, we might not be able to let him go.” Harrison winked, blue eyes shining with the light shining into the kitchen, causing heat to quickly rise to your face.

You chuckled light heartedly, leaning against the kitchen island with your head down, avoiding the intense stairs of the two brits on your body.

Everything happened so quickly. Being kicked out of your apartment after having trouble paying ridiculous bills, seeing the ad during your job at the cafe and immediately calling the number in hopes that the offer for a roommate was still open. It wasn’t usually something you did, especially without any background checks but you were desperate and in that moment, you were ready to endure anything if it meant you would have a roof over your head. 

What you didn’t expect was a cute british voice answering the phone who was very cooperative and patient, answering all the questions you had. You called him everyday after that, using the excuse of asking more questions but ultimately you both ended up talking about anything and everything. It was an immediate connection that only intensified when you met him the next week in real life after your shift. Shaggy brown hair, soft brown eyes and a figure that made your mouth water, you didn’t expect such a sweet human to take on the looks of a model.

But he didn’t come alone, next to him was a taller but equally attractive blond brit, with clear blue eyes and a smile that made your legs weak. You were surprised how composed you kept yourself while talking to them and with a firm handshake and exchange of phone numbers, a beautiful friendship between the two was born.

At least, that’s what you tried to keep it as. Both men were naturally flirtatious, constantly complimenting you then pointing out how flustered you got like it was some inside joke. When you would meet up with them after shifts, sometimes one of them would take your hand while the other stayed attached to you to the hip, along with a lot of subtle touches that left goose bumps in their wake.

It came to the point where your coworkers gave you side eyes, dancing around the question of asking if you were dating anyone which only made you more flustered.

After a month of spending time with them, the week before your lease ended, they invited you to their flat to show you around, not so directly confirming that they wanted you as their third roommate.  

However, as you entered the house, tension started to build in the air, tension that you only noticed apparently since Tom and Harrison went on with the tour like everything they did was normal. Constant innuendoes, especially when they showed you where the bedrooms were, stretching their arms in already tight shirts, staying close by your side with small touches to your back and arm.

It kept you flustered, while your purpose being there was to find a place to stay, you couldn’t deny that the two brits were attractive, irritatingly so. After the month of getting to know them, you developed a pretty obvious crush on the two men but you were too shy to say anything, too many negative consequences filling your head.

You were happy to maintain a friendship, even if that meant keeping the constant heat on your skin in their presence.

“How do you know if Tessa’s any safer? I might just take her with me.” you teased, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Oh really?” Tom raised a brow, walking closer to you behind the kitchen counter, “I feel hurt that you’re already thinking of leaving.” he leaned on his left elbow with his ankles crossed over the other, licking his lips as he looked you up and down.

“To- to be fair... Haz was the first to suggest it.” you stuttered briefly, coughing to hide how nervous you became.

“Yeah, cut her some slack Tom.” the blond snickered, walking up to you, standing on the other side, arms crossed and muscles bulging, “Don’t want to scare her off too soon now do we?”

“Oh I don’t think we’re scaring her off Haz.” Tom raised his hand, taking your jaw between your fingers and turning your head to face him, “Are we scaring you love?”

You shook your head no, eyes wide and body frozen with the contact.

“We’re going to need words darling,” Harrison said into your ear, his breath heavy on the side of your head, his hand landing possessively on the base of your neck, “Communication is very important for us in a roommate.”

“Is it?” you squeaked, trying to process being suddenly sandwiched between the two men. They’ve never been this forward, thoughts running through your head that made you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of some relief.

Tom hummed, leaning up with his face right in front of yours, “So I’ll ask again... are you scared of us Y/n?” your name fell off his tongue like honey, sending a pang of pleasure down your stomach to your heat. You wanted nothing more than to hear it over and over again.

“N-no.” the pitch of your voice was high, enough to make you laugh if it wasn’t for the men so close to your body.

“Then why are you so tense, angel?” Harrison’s hand moved down your neck, trailing along your spine and staying in the curve of your back, right above your ass, “Anything we could do to help?”

“I could think of one thing!” Tom hummed, leaning in closer, brushing his lips along yours, “That is, if our lady allows it.”

“Only if you want to be our girl.” Harrison added, leaning down to kiss the side of your neck, “Just say the word and this never happened.”

“No!” maybe it was the sudden closeness, their hands on your body or the pet names that flowed so naturally off their tongue. Or maybe it was the build up over the past months, the fantasies than ran threw your head of this exact moment that all lead you to whimper-

“yes... please.”

...

“Ah- fuck.” Harrison groaned from behind you, his rough hands gripping your waist tighter as he pounded into you from behind, “God she feels so good around me... tightest cunt I’ve ever fucked.”

“Wait till you feel her mouth mate,” Tom grunted, tightening his hands around your head. He looked down at your face, tears falling from your eyes, spit drooling from your mouth around his hard cock, some of it falling to the sheets beneath you. Out of his years of acting and traveling, he’d never thought he’d see such a beautiful sight.

“Oh I’m planning on it,” the blond responded, moving his hips impossibly faster, fingers digging into your waist, adding to the marks all over your body, “Not tonight though, don’t think the slut could think properly after this.”

Tom laughed at his friend’s words, continuing to bob your head on his cock, alternating between slow, calculated movements and a rough, punishing pace.

The humiliation only made you more wet and desperate for relief. You were right on the edge, have been since the night’s activities began. But the men wouldn’t allow it, constantly mocking and degrading you if the thought ever crossed your mind, threatening to not touch you for the rest of the week if you came without permission.

The fact that they planned to continue after this couldn’t even cross your head, mind too far broken down into just a toy for their use, begging and mewling for anything they gave you. 

A harsh spank landed on your bum making a squeak erupt from your throat, muffled by Tom’s length. Harrison scoffed at your reaction, landing blow after blow, his hips losing rhythm as he neared his high.

“I swear she just gets wetter and wetter,” Harrison groaned, punctuating the last three words with a slap to your skin, “So fucking perfect around me I-” he groaned loudly, bending over slightly to reach deeper inside you, hitting a different angle that made you scream.

Tom was quick to pull you off his cock, one hand wrapped tightly around your hair, keeping your head up while the other moved quickly up his shaft. jerking himself off.

“Fuck, you look so pretty princess,” Tom moaned, “Ready to cum?”

You nodded enthusiastically, smiling wide as you kept your mouth open. The brunette grabbed your jaw, tilting your head up and spitting directly in your mouth, slapping the side of your face for you to swallow.

“Fucking beg for it then.” 

But before you could respond, you felt pressure directly on your clit, Harrison’s cold thumb moving circles around the nub, pushing you further and further to your orgasm. 

“Please! Please let me cum! Please Tommy!” 

But the brit only laughed, “I’m not the one you should be begging too love,” 

Tom loosened his grip of your hair only for Harrison to take over, pulling your back to his sweaty chest.

“Go ahead angel, beg so you could cum all over my cock,”

“Please... please Harrison,” you could feel the energy slowly fading from your body but your will to get off was just as strong, “Please let me cum,”

“Go ahead angel,” Haz grunted in your ear, “Fuck I’m gonna cum with you, bury my cock deep in your pussy, stuff you full,”

Without a second to lose, you let yourself go, finally  getting that release you’ve been craving for that entire night. The feeling of the blonds cum filling you up made it more intense, along with his thumb still locked in place on your clit. It was an overload of pleasure, black spots clouding your vision but you still hyper aware of everything going on.

“Open your mouth pretty girl,” you heard echo in the back of your head. Without fight, your jaw slacked open, the taste of Tom’s seed hitting your lips, spreading across your mouth.

You were in pure ecstasy. 

It took you a while to come back after such an intense moment, tangled in Tom’s arms while Harrison worked on cleaning your body, both looking down at you with admiration and awe.

“What do you think Haz? She good enough to live here?” Tom mumbled, softly petting your hair as you nudge your cheek against his chest, bathing in the attention.

The blond snickered from behind you, crawling over your body and leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your shoulder, “She could live with us for the rest of her life after that mate,” you raised your head slightly at his words, eyes wide and blown. He gently took your chin between his fingers, pressing a kiss to your puffy lips.

“Free of fucking charge.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

madam carter baizen president, what about carter with the song traitor by olivia rodrigo?

pairing : carter baizen x reader

warnings : angst, carter is an asshole (sadly), reader is nate’s twin sister

inspired by traitor

you betrayed me and i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt. you'd talk to her when we were together. loved you at your worst but that didn't matter, it took you two weeks to go off and date her. guess you didn't cheat but you're still a traitor

She stood in the middle of the high end designer shop, thousands of girls from Constance moving up and down, picking and fighting for different dresses for one of the biggest events before graduation - Cotillion. As a carrier of the Archibald family name, the twin sister of Nate Archibald, Y/N’s RSVP was sent in her behalf before she even understood what it actually was. She didn’t mind doing it, she didn’t mind keeping up the traditions that her family was so overprotective yet she couldn’t say she particularly enjoyed them. She had to be truthful to herself and admit that she did not enjoy the idea of being presented to society as merely a stereotype of what her social status expected her to become. Maybe that was the dream for some girls, but it definitely wasn’t hers. Nevertheless, she had convinced herself to go, after all Rory Gilmore had gone and she had had a blast so why shouldn’t Y/N give it a go? Besides, if she even thought about not going, she was sure her mother would come from the wood work with her dramatic reasons as to why going to Cotillion was important, when it reality there was only one reason why it mattered - reputation. 

      - So, which one is yours? - her brother joked, looking away from where Blair was trying on her own dress. Y/N rolled her eyes, raising her hand where a black hanger was with her dress. - White? You’re trying to present yourself as virginal?

       - One of us has to. - she bite back. - Besides, Rory wore white and I wanna wear white. 

       - You shouldn’t model your life after a sitcom, Y/N. It’s not gonna be nearly as fun as they portray it. 

       - I can always trip you while you’re dancing. That’ll be fun, huh? 

       - What’ll be fun will be seeing Carter Baizen escort you when mum and dad don’t even know you’re sneaking around with him. 

       - I’m not sneaking around and I told you I’m going alone. - she wasn’t lying. She’d become acquainted with Carter a few years ago and the two had become close friends, both sharing an ambition of travelling around the world, hiking high mountains and looking at the clearest seas but that’s where it ended. At least to him. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have at least some sort of romantic interest in him. How could she not? He was a handsome man with the same ideals as her, who’d often flirt but she’d convinced herself it was just who he was. Yet, her hopes were always very high at whatever they had. He didn’t look at anyone else like he looked at her, he didn’t hug anyone else like he hugged her and after he left New York, she was the one who he’d still write to yet it never progressed to anything else. She’d rather have him as whatever they were so she could keep him. Of course, Nate was of a different opinion and believed the two were dating, just without the label. - Not everyone can take a Waldorf to Cotillion.

     - You’re not going alone, Y/N. C’mon, we know so many people, so many guys who’d die to take you to Cotillion.

     - It’s really not a big deal. 

     - You should just ask him. - Nate told her, before being dragged away by one of the tailors to fix his suit. She had to admit, she was rather keen on seeing her brother in a fitted grey suit. 

After deciding there was no point in keeping in that store, hoping to find something else, she stepped outside, dress bag over her shoulder. It was a pretty dress and after all, who does not enjoy to be in a pretty dress and get free food and drink? She continued to walk down the street, mindlessly going through a checklist in her head of things she had to get sorted before Cotillion tonight. As her mind checked out invisible tasks, she spotted Carter just a bit down the street. A smile playfully etched on her cherry stained lips as she walked down to meet him. 

     - Hello stranger. 

     - Oh, hi princess. - his eyes moved from whatever he had been looking at to look at her, yet something was off. - What you got there? Body bag?

     - Cotillion dress. Not as exciting. - his attention was scattered, eyes looking left and right as if he was looking out for something. - Are you ok, Carter?

     - ‘Course I am. - he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, turning her the opposite way. - Excited for Cotillion?

     -  They always have great stuffed mushrooms and I do intend to have at least a whole tray just for myself. 

     - Who’s the poor bastard who’s taking you? Vanderbilt?

     - He’s my cousin, Carter. Besides, I told you I am going by myself. 

     - And your mother allowed that?

     - She doesn’t need to know.

     - Sneaky. - he chuckled, stopping as her flat came into view. 

     - I wouldn’t have to be sneaky if you escorted me, Baizen. - she meant for it to sound as a joke, but as those words escaped her lips, she realised how oddly passive aggressive they sounded. 

     - You know it’s not my thing.

     - I know. - she sighed. - I’m just being silly.

     - I’ll take you for brunch tomorrow. We’ll discuss all the gossip that went on. You know the rules, the one with the best piece of gossip wins and the other one pays.

     - You better bring your wallet, Baizen. - she opened the door of her building, bidding her goodbyes before quickly climbing up the stairs to get ready.

Sure, part of her wished he would escort her and be her date but he despised the idea of Cotillion more than she did and she wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable the whole night. Besides, if she went alone, she probably would get to change her own introduction speech and make a splash for the family. No publicity is bad publicity, after all. As the sun set down, she was being rushed into the car by her mother, hair set with pearl strings all around which matched the ones that hanged from her earrings. She felt pretty, she had to admit. However, as she stepped into the limo where Blair and Nate was, she couldn’t help but imagine how things would’ve been if Carter had taken her. He would’ve brought her favourite lilies as a corsage, just as when he came back from Florence on her birthday and surprised her with a whole bouquet of white lilies and roses. He’d probably have his tie a bit too loose, as he always did whenever he was inevitably forced to wear one. They would dance the whole night to classical pieces. Yet, all these past tenses were merely ghosts in her brain and as they pulled in front of the building hosting Cotillion, she realised she was alone. He wasn’t here, he didn’t make it a priority to escorting her. But it was okay, she’d never want him to do something which would make him uncomfortable. 

As per usual, they were fashionably late as Blair put it and were rushed to the big staircase. She’d seen it before with her cousins own cotillion ceremonies - two big staircases facing each other, one had all the girls and the other the boys. Normally, she’d be looking at whoever was escorting her but since she was about to be escorted by her own self, she merely looked at her own white shoes, contrasting with the gold gown Serena, who was in front of her, was wearing. As long as she didn’t trip or fall down the stairs, it would be fine. 

     - Escorting Serena van der Woodsen is Carter Baizen. - her eyes looked up as she wondered if her own tired brain was playing jokes on her. But it wasn’t.

They were there. He was here, in the centre, by Serena’s side, escorting her. The sound of the room all went quiet and all she could hear was the buzzing in her ears and her heart drop to her stomach. There were no thoughts in her brain and she didn’t seem to even acknowledge what was happening around her, all she felt was an overwhelming pain and her chest tightening.

    - Next is Y/N Archibald, daughter of Howard and Anne Archibald, escorted by ... - she went down the stairs, standing in the centre by her self as she felt the whole world staring at her. 

    - Me. - she looked to her left to see Chuck Bass run down the stairs to stand by her side. - Sorry, I’m late.

    - Thank you. - she mouthed to Chuck as they went down the stairs. 

    - He’s an ass. - Chuck said as they reached the floor. Immediately, Nate and Blair came over to her side. - I’ll stick around for when we have to dance.

    - Thank you, Chuck.   

    - I thought you said he didn’t like these things. - Nate was mad, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. 

    - Not now.

    - Yes, now, Y/N. He humiliated you.

    - He didn’t ... he’s just a traitor.    

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊

__________________

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖊!𝖕𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖗 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉: ANON Hi I’m feeling really insecure about my body and in having a really hard night. If you have time could you please write something with Peter Parker? Maybe he helps comfort the reader which body insecurities? If you wanted to write smut maybe you could have the reader cover up a lot, or be scared to strip/ wear lingerie for him. A little bit of crying would be helpful too. Preferably with a small chest❤️ I appreciate you - 🐱

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: smut 18+ (reader’s first time having sex fully nude), angst, fluff (holy trinity ;))

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: dude this made me cry, i really hope i did you justice and this is something you were looking for. Sorry it took a bit too btw, i really pride myself in posting completed oneshots with lots of detail and story and emotion so it takes a while for my completed works and request to come out . I hope you still like it and enjoy, bug! :)

____________________

You stood in the mirror of your room with the lingerie set you had bought. You bought it hoping to surprise Peter when he got back from school since his school days were longer than yours, but you just didn’t like the way fit on you. 

It was a gorgeous black lace two piece that immediately caught your eye when you were online shopping. The model wore it beautifully and you were feeling a little overzealous and purchased the set without much thought. 

Now that it was here and you tried it on, you felt awful. You almost felt like you were trying too hard. Like who were you trying to fool wearing something like this?

“Babe? I’m home,” Peter!

You quickly grabbed your hoodie and sweats but was unsuccessful in dressing yourself when Peter walked in your bedroom confused towards your sudden panic. 

“Are you ok, princess?” 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” you starting walking to the bathroom to take the set off, but Peter grabbed your wrists and pulled you close making the clothes you were holding fall to the floor.

You covered yourself with your arms feeling silly and embarrassed. Peter’s eyes grew wide at what you were wearing and you grew nauseous. You wanted to cry; Peter was gonna say how ugly you looked, how silly you looked, how humiliating. 

“What are you wearing?” he whispered, clearly turned on but you couldn’t tell in the moment.

“Nothing, just- it’s stupid. I thought I’d looked good but I know I don't. I looked dumb,” you cried.

“What? Baby, holy fuck. You looking so fucking sexy,” Peter pulled you closer.

“What?”

“God why haven’t you started shit like this sooner fuck, your gonna make hard,” he whispered seductively in your ear.

“You like it?” you asked confused.

“Like it? Baby, I love it,” Peter picked you up and tossed you on the bed. Your face was still held in a sad expression, still not convinced that you didn’t look absolutely stupid.  

“Why don’t you wear more things like this darling? You look so beautiful,” Peter asked you. 

“No I don’t,” you mumbled.

“What? What does that mean?” Peter questioned. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t think you were the most beautiful thing on the whole fucking panet; you looked like a goddess, an angel.

“Peter stop lying to me. I look weird, I look stupid,” you pushed.

“No you do not, look at me. I don’t like this attitude thing you’re pulling. Why are you saying this all of the sudden? You know how beautiful you are to me, I tell and show all the time.”

“Peter you’ve never even seen me,” you said coldly. You had always been so scared that when you and Peter have sex that he going to hate the way your body looked. He’s had his fair share of bodies before dating you but you never even went on a date with somebody until Peter. 

What if he saw you naked and was disgusted. What if he was expecting a body like the big tit ones in pornos. You were flat chested as fuck and your stomach could’ve been flatter, your thighs could’ve been smaller. You just felt so insecure. 

Peter only really ever did quickies with you in your dorm before you two got an apartment together. And everytime you guys had sex you either had a bra on with the lights completely out at night, sometimes even a full on hoodie to cover yourself while you and Peter had sex. He’s never actually seen your entire naked body and he hadn’t realized it until now when you pointed it out.

“Why? You’re my stunning gorgeous girlfriend. Tell me what’s going on, princess?” Peter pulled you to the bed again and sat with you listening fully. 

“I hate my body,” you sniffled, “I hate how small my boobs are, my stomach always looks awful like I look like I just came from eating a whole ass buffet, and my thighs are gross. I don’t look like those other girls with flat stomachs and abs. My boobs aren’t even there and I’m just… ugly.”

“Y/n, why haven't you told me sooner?” Peter asked softly.

“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want you to agree. Thought if I never brought it up, you’d ignore it and the problem wouldn’t really be there. You’d never really see my flaws.”

“Baby,” Peter wiped the tears that were running down your face.

“Baby, I don't ever want you to feel you had to hide from me. Look at you, you look fucking amazing wearing this. God, I could just rip it off you and fuck you stupid,” he whispered riguhly, making you turned on. 

“Let me show you how stunning you are, all of you,” he pushed you down and crawled over you before kissing you passionately; the taste of salty tears on your lips. 

“Peter,” you moaned breathily.

“Why baby? What do you want?” he asked between kissing your neck softly.

“Please, fuck me. I need you,” you whimpered.

“Ok but only if you let me take this gorgeous piece off you,” he smirked.

“Peter-”

“Please, baby. I want to see you. I want to feel all of you pressed against me.”

“Ok,” you hesitantly whispered after a moment.

Peter sat you up and reached behind you skillfully unclasping your beautiful black  bralette. You let the material fall and goosebumps raised on your skin and your nipples harden from the cool air and arousal simultaneously. Peter leaned forward and kissed your collarbones while his hands, big and warm, massaged the skin of your breasts gently making you moaned softly.

“God baby, fuck me,” Peter breathed out, hands falling to your panties.

You leaned back and let Peter take your panties off; your core glistened lightly in the soft hue of the lamp in the bedroom, completely aroused by Peter's desire for you. His lips pressed faint kisses to your legs and he traveled up with them until he was at your wet pussy. 

His finger came up and spread your arousal around your folds, moving up and down as well grazing your clit ever so slightly enough for you to jerk your hips up subtly. Next thing your felt was his warm and wet tongue licking a long slow line up your entrance and circled around your clit making you moan louder this time. 

“God, princess, you make such pretty noises, lemme hear you,” Peter told you.

“Oh Peter, that feels so fucking good, shit,” you groaned. 

His hands roamed your stomach and torso area very freely, squeezing your breast once in a while. His hands squeezed your thighs in adoration and kissed the inner part every now and then basking in your presence altogether. 

Your hands went to his fluffy brown curls and tangled them with your fingers pulling him closer to you if that was possible, chasing your release. Peter tongue moved faster against you and your legs started to tense up in preparation for your climax. 

“Pete, I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“Let go,” he commanded and you released all over his face, Peter lapping up everything you gave him. 

“Ugh, you taste so sweet princess. I could eat you out all fucking day and never get tired.”

Peter kissed you and you taste yourself on his tongue making you turned on even more. He leaned back and discarded his clothes quickly grabbing a condom before almost instantly lining his swollen cock up with your entrance. 

He slid in easily from your slick and held himself up with forearms looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and cupped his face before he suddenly thrust into you hard making you cry out in pleasure. 

Peter kept a quick tempo thrusting in and out of you deliciously and your body was instantly preparing for yet another orgasm so soon. Peter hands grabbed yours and pinned them above your head. His lips kissed and nibbled at your neck.

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you fall apart under me,” he whispered against your lips.

You struggled to keep your eyes open but manage to look directly into his chocolate brown eyes. You felt a bit uncomfortable with the direct eye contact but that feeling quickly subsided when Peter lifted you leg with other hand piked your leg up on his hip hitting an even deeper spot inside you.

Peter also groaned and moaned above you; music to your ears. His thrusts became somewhat sloppily signaling he was also close to a release. You continued to look directly into his beautiful eyes before you both cried out each other's names during your climax.

Peter body fell on yours and roll to the side pulling you with him. His head was leveled to your chest and Peter began kissing your chest and breasts softly making you smile. His hands pulled you closer bny your waist and Peter’s tongue circled one of your nipples. You sighed in content before you looked down and smiled, getting up to clean yourself quickly after. 

You saw yourself in the mirror completely nude and you suddenly felt that awful feeling again. Peter just showed you how much he loves your body and you still felt this way. It was so frustrating. 

You saw Peter come up behind you and you put on a fake smile hoping he didn’t catch you judging yourself again. 

“Look at that, damn,” he said, making you giggle.

“Fuck , you are the most sexiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Nothing in this whole fucking wrorld compares to you, princess,” his hands circled your hips pulling your back against his front, his head leaning down on your shoulder to your eye level since he was a bit taller.

“Look at these gorgeous tits,” his hands grabbed your breasts and you sighed, throwing your head back and biting your lip softly.

“Ugh these fucking sexy thighs,” he spun you around and kneeled down pressing kisses to them and your stomach after making you smile and tear up. He was worshiping you something no one has ever done to you ; not even yourself. 

“Y/n, look at me,” you did what he asked.

“Peter,” you pushed her shoulder, laughing.

“I don’t ever want to hear that you're upset with how you look because I don’t see a goddamn thing wrong with you. You are so perfect and stunning and gorgeous and beautiful, and pretty, and uh…I’m running out of synonyms for you; divine! Angelic!”

“Do you get it now?” he whispered.

“Yes, I do,” you responded.

“Repeat it,” he said.

“I am beautiful,” you said.

“And strong,” he continued.

“And strong.”

“And I have the best boyfriend ever,” he played.

“I have the best boyfriend ever,” you giggled.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Peter. Thank you.”

==================================

TAGLIST:

@mathletemadison 

[justcourttee]

im not sure if youre taking asks but here goes: platonic jasonette, bc there isnt enough sibling jasonette in the world

We stan sibling Jasonette. It is literally my life as much as Daminette. Hope you like it! @sixtyeightdays

A Brother’s Love

If a year ago you had told Jason Todd that he would be smushed flat against the wall of a small coffee shop in Paris, France spying on his favorite designer’s first date, he would’ve laughed in your face. After all, nobody knew MDC’s secret identity and even if his jerk siblings found out, they wouldn't tell him anyway, just to torture him.

Yet somehow, he found himself in this exact situation, his anger rising with each passing minute that her date was late. He watched as Marinette picked up her phone for the hundredth time to check the time, check her messages, and sigh as she placed it face down once more, defeated. Part of him wanted to storm over to her table, scoop her up in the tightest hug and take her out for two scoops of ice cream from the best creamery in Paris.

But alas, if he even moved an inch, she would spot him and he’d never hear the end of him being an overprotective ass. The sound of her phone ringing caught his attention as he watched her fumble to try and answer.

“Hi! Yes, I’m at the coffee shop. - Have I been waiting long? No, no, not at all.”

Jason rolled his eyes. She was too kind for her own good. It was how she got into the Lila debacle. It was how she let her classmates walk all over her for too many years. It was why she was letting this Adrien kid treat her as a second rate now.

“The Louvre? I mean I guess I can close out here and meet you there.” There was a pause as her head dropped in disappointment.

Jason felt his blood boiling. Not only did this punk leave her waiting here for forty minutes without a signal message or call, but when he does decide to let her know he’s running late, he insists she comes to him? Jason didn’t care how well protected the model was, one way or another he deserved a black eye courtesy of Jason’s right fist.

He waited for Marinette to finish gathering her stuff. She laid a note onto the table, not bothering to ask for change, she never did, and exited the door, her face heavy. Laying a note of his own down, he raced after her, careful to keep a few hundred feet between them.

Jason felt as though he was beginning to break a sweat as he tried to keep up with her pace. As she turned down an alleyway, Jason broke into a sprint, trying not to lose her. As he turned the corner, a hand shot out toward his jacket, slamming him into the wall.

“I thought I told you my first date was off-limits.”

“Hi princess,” his voice was breathless as he tried to keep the pain from seeping in. “Just thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him before letting go, allowing him to readjust his jacket.

“Besides, doesn’t seem like much of a date. I haven’t seen the punk once.”

Her eyes seemed to blaze as they cut into his. Jason raised his hands in defense, but he refused to apologize. They seemed to be locked into a staredown, both standing in the alley, arms crossed, neither budging in their positions.

“He’s not a punk Jason, he just was running late on his photoshoot. They just finished up at the Louvre which is where he invited me to. We’re gonna walk the museum and try to find Andrè’s ice cream afterward.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so confident that he wanted to believe her, but her eyes were broken. They seemed so tired as if she almost expected to be stood up at this point.

“Mari, I’ve been here a year now. This is the twelfth first date you and Adrien have attempted. Every month he gets your hopes up and every month something always comes up last minute. How do you know he really is at the Louvre?”

Her arms dropped as her hands curled into fists. Jason knew he hit a sensitive topic, but he couldn’t watch her break her own heart. Not again.

“He’ll be there. Now leave Jason, this doesn’t concern you.”

She turned on her heel, exiting the alleyway without another word.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason huffed as he landed on the nearest roof with a view to the courtyard. Following on foot grew too hard as Marinette constantly kept looking back, checking to see if he was still there. Besides, she said it didn’t concern Jason but she said nothing about Red Hood.

He tapped the side of his helmet, enhancing the zoom, silently thanking Barbara a million times over. The courtyard was empty besides Marinette and a blonde boy sitting on a bench, neither looking particularly happy.

“Don’t fail me now helmet.”

Jason hesitantly reached up to tap the newest installment Barbara had insisted on; audio enhancement.

“-it’s just ridiculous Adrien! You can’t sit under her thumb forever!”

The boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to avoid direct eye contact with Marinette.

“Lila will turn my father on me Marinette, you have to understand. I really do like you and I would love to date you, but it’s a choice between you and freedom.”

For the third time that night, Jason felt his blood pressure rise from this punk kid. Before he realized what he was doing, the rush of air filled his ears as his grapple strained under the weight of him. His landing was rough as he tumbled less than ten feet from the bench, rolling to a stop right in front of the couple.

As he struggled to his feet, his eyes met Marinette’s. They were a mixture of anger and tears, fueling his rage.

“You.” His voice was menacing, all of his anger directed to the blonde sitting in front of him.

“Me?” Adrien seemed to shrink in on himself, his eyes widening as he took in the hero in front of him.

“You are a literal piece of scum. Do you understand what you’re losing here?”

“Hood, don’t-” Marinette tried to reach out, her voice begging, but he simply shrugged her off, grasping Adrien by the neck of his shirt.

“Marinette is an amazing girl. She’s absolutely brilliant, I mean have you seen her grades? They freaking fly off the charts. If you all had a GPA system, she would knock all of you out of the ballpark with no chance of recovery. Marinette is so talented. Her designs have so much potential to run an empire in the future. She already has multiple big-name clients and I know she’ll only expand from there.”

Adrien tried to object, but Jason didn’t give him the chance. His grip tightened as he lifted Adrien from the bench, his tiptoes barely scraping the courtyard stones.

“Marinette is daring, courageous, compassionate, and way too caring for her own good. None of you deserve her. Paris doesn’t deserve her.”

He felt two small hands wrap around his arm, attempting to pull him off of the boy but to no avail.

“Marinette do something! Tell your friend to stand down.”

Adrien struggled under the man’s grasp, his wild eyes begging the girl.

“You little punk, face me yourself. After tonight, you don’t have Marinette to hide behind anymore. If I even see you in a twenty-foot radius of her, you’re dead. Got it, kid?”

He dropped the blonde, watching as he stumbled backward before taking off into a sprint, never looking back.

Jason wanted to chase after him, finish teaching him a lesson, but the sound of soft sniffles from behind him required his immediate attention. His arms automatically pulled her into his chest, the sniffles muffled by his suit.

“Don’t worry Marinette, he’s never gonna hurt you again.”

She didn’t answer him as her sniffles slowly died out, her arms tightening around Jason’s waist.

“C’mon.” He slowly pulled back using his gloved hand to wipe a stray tear from her face. “Let’s go get some ice cream.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason accepted his cone from André, attempting to hand the man a tip, but he simply blocked Jason, shaking his hand.

“Anything for Marinette. I could feel her broken heart before she even arrived. A girl like her doesn’t deserve to be so broken.”

Jason sighed in agreement as he returned to the bench she sat on, handing her one of the cones.

“Thanks, Jason. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I just really wanted to believe that Adrien would come through. That our love could outweigh any obstacle this world throws at us.”

“Princess, did I ever tell you the reason I came to Paris in the first place?”

Marinette shook her head as she took a timid bite from her cone.

“My brother’s had a competition with each other to see who could discover the identity of my favorite designer, MDC. It took a couple months, but low and behold, August 16th comes around and my youngest brother handed me a wrapped folder that contained a plane ticket for Paris and your parent’s address. He said it was my birthday gift and it was scheduled to leave in the morning.”

“You came all the way to Paris, from Gotham City, to meet me?”

Jason nodded, taking a bite from his cone as well, throwing an arm over Marinette's shoulders.

“I was never expecting a small child of only seventeen years to be my all-time favorite person in the world. I mean your leather jackets can hold through a lot of trauma, trust me, Roy and I tried.”

Marinette giggled, her face slowly relaxing into one of peace.

“If Adrien can’t see how amazing you are, amazing enough for some guy to fly half-way across the world to meet you, then I’m sorry but I don’t think he really loves you.”

“Did you mean every word you said to Adrien?”

Jason looked over at the smaller girl, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Every last one.”

Marinette nodded, a small ‘cool’ barely audible escaping from her lips. They sat in silence for a few moments before Marinette spoke again.

“I’m over Adrien Agreste. For good this time.”

“Finally.” Jason pumped his fist in the air earning another giggle from her.

As they finished up their cones, Jason helped her to her feet, a sly smile crossing his face.

“You know, you graduate in a couple months. Maybe you can come back to Gotham with me, meet my other family. I’m sure they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Maybe I can meet that little brother of yours. After all, anyone who can figure out my well-guarded secret sounds like a very intelligent person.”

Jason laughed, his mind tracing back to the image of Damian with a pot stuck on his head after pissing off Dick’s former teammate Raven.

“I don’t know about intelligence, but I would say he’s extremely devoted to the people he cares for.”

Marinette saw the wheels turning in Jason’s head as she tried to form a no before he could blurt out what she thought he was thinking.

“You two would be so great together! Oh God, I sound like circus boy. Anyways, it’s settled. As your honorary brother and full-time wingman, I am setting you up with Damian Wayne.”

Jason dipped down, snatched her phone off the bench, and took off in a sprint.

“Jason! JasoN I DON’T HAVE INTERNATIONAL DATA!”

The streets filled with the sounds of their laughter as both took off into the night, a bright future lying ahead, neither looking back on the events of the night.

After all, ice cream mends most broken hearts, but nothing fixes you quite like a brother’s love.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 3

<<Previous  Next>>

7. Homemade Gifts

Marinette prided herself in not caring about the looks of others. After all, beauty meant nothing if their heart was trash. They’d always just be a pig in lipstick.

Unfortunately, if they did have a good heart, Marinette discovered that she did care for their looks a little more than she would have cared to admit. Particularly when it came to a former model turned baker.

Which was why, much to her chagrin, she’d ended up losing the bet.

It was just a pair of glasses. A simple, functional accessory. However, with the frame he had, ones that held a dark green hue that accented his eyes and were square in form—somehow, a perfect match for his angular face—she couldn’t help but to have stared a bit.

By the time she caught herself, Adrien was already grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

She hoped beyond all hope her cheeks hadn’t colored, or at the very least, Adrien hadn’t caught it.

And now, she was having to bite the bullet and watch an anime of his choosing. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad loss.

Hopefully.

Depending on what he chose…

Oh, please don’t be anything stupid.

Marinette finished her work, then clocked out, hurrying to go shower quickly before Adrien came over. Not that Adrien hadn’t seen her covered in flour and looking like a hot mess already, but she’d rather be clean and comfy if she was going to have to suffer through her punishment for losing the bet. They had planned to meet at her house for the viewing. Adrien would bring over his computer and cables to hook it up to their tv so that he could easily access his anime accounts. He said it would be a piece of cake.

She threw on a comfy t-shirt and lounge pants, then she dried her hair. Once that was done, she went downstairs to begin preparing the dinner she’d prepped earlier that day.

Halfway through, a knock sounded on the door, signaling Adrien’s arrival. She answered, only for her gaze to fall to the box in his hands. “What’s that?”

One of his hands reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I wanted to bring some homemade food since I knew you’d be working all day. And I need to practice my cooking skills, anyway.”

She smiled, taking the offered gift. “Thanks, but I actually started making something thinking that it was the least I could do since you were bringing everything over.”

Adrien looked surprised for a moment before he chuckled. “We should have planned that better.”

“Oh well. Left overs for days, right?” she said with a shrug, stepping aside to let him in.

“That’s one way to look at it.”

 8. Commissions

“Can I ask a question?”

“I don’t know? Can you?”

Adrien looked up from his computer screen to shoot a grinning Marinette a flat look. This was the fourth time he’d come over so they could continue the anime he’d chosen. He had known from Mr. Dupain that he and his daughter both loved video games, and henceforth, he’d chosen accordingly in hopes to get Marinette hooked.

He knew he’d succeeded when they binged the first four episodes the first day. He’d then hung it over her head that “why would he come back again? He’d won the bet, and she’d paid her price, so for what reason did he have to come over again?”

He had had fun teasing her, because her huffy, unamused expression was too darn endearing.

“Look,” she’d said. “I just need to know what happens to Princess Bitch.”

He’d snorted, trying and failing to withhold his laugh. “You don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why not? You don’t get to pull that level of manipulative bullshit, ruining the other person’s life like that, and not be dubbed with the title ‘Princess Bitch’.”

“So…” he drawled out, teasingly. “Are you saying you care about this anime?”

She’d fallen silent, and he couldn’t help but to laugh once more.

In the end, after more teasing on his part, he’d caved and said he’d come over again so they could finish it out.

Hence why he was here now.

“Haha, funny,” Adrien deadpanned, turning back to his screen.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice,” she said a little too sweetly, placing two plates of food on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

He took a second to log into his account before turning back to her. “I don’t know if this is overstepping, but… are you happy working at your parents’ bakery?”

Marinette froze, and for a moment, Adrien grew worried.

Thankfully, she seemed to take it well, although it was clear she was confused. “What brought that on?”

Adrien shrugged, looking at his screen again to select their anime of choice. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel like we’re close enough to be friends. Right?”

Marinette didn’t hesitate to nod. “Yeah, I would consider you one.”

Adrien pushed aside the very happy feeling that blossomed in his chest. “I guess I’m just… curious… about you… as a friend, of course.”

“No, I get it,” she assured. “Now that you mention it, I guess I could say the same for you.”

Adrien felt extra warm now. “So, do I get an answer to my question?”

Marinette paused, her expression falling as she bit her lip. “Only if you promise to keep it secret from my parents.”

“Yeah, totally,” he promised, smile falling from his face. “Cat’s honor.”

Marinette sighed. “I… I am happy,” she said. “Really. It’s not an issue of me being happy here. But running my parents’ bakery wasn’t my dream, you know?”

With the episode loading, Adrien decided to take a seat next to Marinette. “What was your dream?”

“I wanted to be a fashion designer.”

That came as a surprise to Adrien. “Really? What stopped you?”

“Chloe.”

Somehow… that answer shouldn’t have surprised him. “Chloe?”

“She got her mom to block me from going to any fashion or design school.”

“She what?!”

“Shhh!” Marinette shushed, finger over his lips. “Not so loud.”

Adrien felt his face heat at her touch. “Er…sorry.”

She then took her finger away, and Adrien tried not to think about why he was disappointed. “Chloe did that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. “How? And how’d you know?”

“Um…” She suddenly turned sheepish, and that spitfire edge he’d come to love diminished a bit. It made her look younger and sweeter. He didn’t mind that change. “Well, due to the methods used to acquire such information, I must refrain from answering that. Just know I trust my source and the information that was found.”

Adrien sighed. Honestly, even if he wanted to come to Chloe’s defense, he couldn’t. She ran in a pretty elite crowd and had some powerful connections. If she wanted to block someone from entering a fashion school, she could. And since Adrien knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be above such tricks, Adrien accepted Marinette’s word as truth.

Besides, he knew Marinette well enough by now to know she hated liars. He doubted she’d lie about this.

“So, have you thought about applying outside the country?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I just… didn’t. It felt too overwhelming.”

“So, what about skipping the education entirely? Find a niche and start your own business taking commissions or what not?”

Marinette paused, her eyes glazing over a moment as she thought. “I… it’s an idea that’s come up before.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” Adrien asked. “Even if you got an education later, you’d at least have a reputation you’re building up now.”

Again, Marinette was silent. “You know…” she began, her tone softer and more earnest than he’d ever heard before. It felt raw. Open. And that did something to his heart.

Protect her. The words popped up in his head, and his heart clenched onto them before he could even realize it. But all he could do at the moment was listen. So he would.

“I decided I’d step back and do a lot of thinking.”

“About?”

She sighed. “It’s easy to say ‘I love fashion so I want to be a designer’. It’s easy to have those dreams. It’s easy to think that your hobby can become your profession. But the easy stuff isn’t all the fashion world consists of. It’s a competitive world filled with both nice people and people like Audrey Bourgeois. It’s filled with more than fashion, and when faced with the reality that I’d been barred from fashion college because one person in the industry had that much power, I had to do some reflecting. If I accept fashion as my career, I get to set foot into that world. And I had to face the question of ‘am I ready and willing to accept that?’”

When Marinette came to a pause, Adrien stopped to think of his response. “Honestly, as someone who comes from that world, I completely understand your feelings. I’ve seen the good, and I’ve seen the bad. I’ve watched people succeed and climb the ladder, and I’ve watched people crash and burn. And I think there’s such a fine line between the two.”

“See, that just feels validating,” Marinette said, small smile on her face. “I understand that that is basically every job field. I understand some are better than others. But with what I’ve seen from the fashion world… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m as adamant about it as I was when I was in high school.”

Adrien sighed. “I don’t understand what it’s like to have a passion,” he admitted. “I’ve never had one, so this might not mean anything coming from me, but I think… it would be better to keep your passion a hobby… if the profession will burn you out. Because then you’re not just loosing your profession, but the hobby meant to bring you joy.”

Marinette was silent for a minute, and Adrien thought he’d said something wrong. But that tension in his chest eased hen a small smile crept up on her lips. “That’s good advice,” she finally said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Adrien reached out to pat her shoulder, surprising her a moment. When she turned to him, eyes wide and clear once again, he gave her a smile. “I’ll be rooting for you. And if there’s anything I can help you with, I’d be happy to assist.”

Slowly, her small smile grew. “Thanks,” she said, her voice surprisingly sweet. But she soon turned away, and Adrien pulled his hand back. “So, um… fair’s fair,” she started up again. “Are you happy working here?”

Adrien didn’t hesitate to nod. “Honestly, it’s hard work, but it’s something that I chose, for once. This is something I myself am doing. I don’t want to say the novelty of doing this hasn’t worn off yet, but it feels… worthwhile.”

Marinette nodded. “Have you considered other paths or what you want to do for the future? Or do you see this being long term?”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know, yet,” he said. “Honestly, this whole ‘I’m my own person and on my own’ thing still hasn’t fully caught up to me yet. I feel like I’m still playing pretend. It’s… weird.” He turned back to her, forcing a smile. “Hazard of growing up super sheltered, I guess.”

Marinette hummed. “Well, I think you know Papa will love having you around as long as you plan to stay.”

He smiled, a genuine grin this time. “Yeah, I know. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you mind having Asshole Agreste around?”

Her expression changed from shock to irritation. “Are you really gonna dredge up that old nickname? No, wait!” Her brow furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion. “Where did you even hear that? I never called you that here!”

He grinned a little wider than he’d thought he would. “Chloe.”

Marinette growled.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know I don’t think of you like that anymore, right?”

He couldn’t help teasing her a bit more. “I don’t know. Do I?”

Marinette glowered at him, and he burst into laughter again.

With a growl, she turned away, crossing her arms with a huff. “Just turn on the anime again. I need to see Princess Bitch get her comeuppance.”

Adrien laughed. “We’re only on episode fourteen. You still don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why?” she cried. “What’s gonna happen in the next few episodes that changes? Does she get worse? And if so, how? She’s already about as low as she can go. Like, almost past Chloe-level.”

He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just wait and see.”

 9. Baking Lessons

Marinette felt like she was up to her ears in information.

After her talk with Adrien, she decided that she should do her research on the fashion industry as much as she could. But she also knew to take everything with a grain of salt. Only once she felt prepared enough would she make a decision on her future.

On one hand, it was satisfying to pick up her dreams again, dust them off, and put plans to them. On the other, it was overwhelming, and more did once did Adrien’s warning of “don’t burn out your passion” cross her mind.

It was well into the afternoon that she realized a break might be in order and food would be beneficial.

She headed down into kitchen, only to startle at the unfamiliar face there.

“Um… what are you doing in my house?”

Adrien glanced over his shoulder to look at her, then shot her a smile. “Your parents asked me to. They each had their break and said you hadn’t been down all day. So now it’s my turn for a break, and they asked if I’d take a minute to make sure you ate.”

Marinette looked at the sandwich on the plate he extended towards her. After staring at it a moment, she realized she should take it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Busy?”

“Yeah. I… kinda forgot the last time I was so engrossed in something that I forgot to eat like this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Um… I decided to dig into researching the fashion industry.”

Adrien turned back around, glancing at her with surprise. “Oh? How’s it going?”

Marinette’s lips pursed in thought. “Up and down. Every other article seems to pull me the opposite direction.”

“Fair,” he said with a nod. “Which way are you leaning now?”

“The ‘This is bullshit. Why do I want to be in this hellish industry?’ direction.”

A lopsided grin flashed across Adrien’s face. “I feel that on a personal level.”

“I’m sure you do,” she muttered, walking over to the table to have a seat. “But enough of me griping. You? Have you thought of your future at all since our talk?”

He grabbed a paper bag on the counter, pulling out a tupperware container with a sandwich of his own inside. “Not really.”

“Not really?” she probed, pointing at the seat directly across from her.

He took the hint and took a seat. “I haven’t given much thought to anything beyond the baking lessons your father has been giving me. I mean, maybe one day I’ll go to school for something, but I’ve really decided to give myself a full year of this before committing to anything. Let me learn how to be an adult on my own first before I move forward, you know? It’s easier to start running when your feet are solidly under you.”

“Understandable,” Marinette said. “But just so you know, I’m going to hold you to that, now.”

“Oh?”

“Yup. I’d like you to know you have six months, three weeks, and five days remaining before you have to make a decision.”

Adrien froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth.

Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Is that a legit number or one you just threw out.”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think that when it comes to you, I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

She giggled, feeling a little too giddy for her liking. She played it off with a wink. “Got to keep you on your toes somehow.”

Adrien scoffed. “Don’t worry about that,” he dismissed with a charming smile that she hated to admit could knock her off her feet if she were standing. “You already do.”

[sector-i-closed]

Caught

Requested by anon

Model au + photographer!Hongjoong

Mingi x Reader x Yunho

Warning: Exhibitionism, anal fingering, double penetration, orgasm denial but reader comes, spanking one time

The day at work was not favoring you well in the slightest.

Already you had unwittingly succeeded in getting into a cat fight with a fellow model and your skin was also a mess after a breakout of acne littered your face and created chaos for the makeup artists who fussed over your appearance.

You were extra anxious today and wished that you could relax, trying to find comfort that the steroid that was used to control the inflammation of your acne that your dermatologist tried to console you but the best they could do was prescribe the steroid for you.

"Focus, focus on the camera, Y/N!" Hongjoong barked out, knowing that he could get a better face from you as he remained behind the camera lens, snapping away.

You were struggling to zone into autopilot, which was where you functioned the best for both photoshoots and fashion shows.

Part of the reason why you were more distracted then usual was this particular shoot required you to be partly exposed for the fashion spread of the upcoming issue of the magazine that you modeled for most of the time, though what made it awkward was that you were paired with two fully dressed male models that made you feel smaller than you really were and the attractiveness of the pair was enough to unnerve you, let alone the humiliation of being exposed and posing with them was enough for fire to rush directly to your face and awaken every cell of your body.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" The male model that you had came to know as Mingi spoke near your ear, his low voice prompting you to involuntarily shudder beneath the other male model known as Yunho's fingertips where his large hands held your waist.

"I'm- I'm fine... Just camera nerves..." You bit down hard on your lower lip, hating how you trembled at the effects of the male's that surrounded you.

"You've got this sweetheart. We all do..." Yunho encouraged as he tried to convince himself that everything would be alright as everyone moved their forms in front of the camera.

You wanted to sob in frustration, feeling a sense of arousal in your system and you chided yourself for feeling such a strong, intoxicating sensation around your coworkers.

"Hongjoong, it's time to go lunch!" The fashion coordinator who was named Yeosang called out to the photographer.

"I'm not leaving until I'm finished with my subjects." Hongjoong muttered sternly at the fashion coordinator.

"You'll leave if I bring Seonghwa to get your ass taken care of! Your fatigue is showing and to put it mildly you look like shit because it's apparent that you're not sleeping." Yeosang folded his arms across his chest and you watched the scene unfold before you with your coworkers.

"Don't bring my boyfriend into this!" Hongjoong scowled, "And this is what happens during fashion week.

Pack fashion shows to photograph into your schedule and the ad campaigns for the following season and that equals little sleep but I'm not complaining about it." Hongjoong shrugged, returning his attention to you, Yunho and Mingi.

"But it still doesn't give you the right to burn yourself out. I'm calling Seonghwa so he can get you to at least eat something." Yeosang threatened, visibly worrying for his friend.

"Alright fine! Fuck it! I'll go for lunch and come back to my project." Hongjoong growled irritation while the fashion coordinator smirked in response to the photographer leaving quickly.

Yeosang followed after him and other personnel left, leaving you and the two male models alone.

"Should we go?" Mingi voiced his question to Yunho as he took notice in your extremely flustered appearance.

"We don't have to! I brought my own lunch! I would love to share it if you two are interested!" Yunho replied cheerfully.

You groaned quietly at your own state of undress, promptly plodding to the bed that was being used as a prop for the photoshoot.

"I'm good..." You replied, bringing the sheets to your chest and lying down on your stomach.

"I'm willing to share!" Yunho pouted, whacking your ass playfully with his hand. A far more erotic sound then you intended to release drifted from your lips and immediately you froze in place, regretting your vocalization immediately.

"Uhm..." Your eyes were wide with fright as you looked up at Yunho who looked equally as alarmed as you did.

"Shit... That sounded so hot." Mingi quirked an eyebrow at you as he carefully drew closer to you, supporting himself by leaning against a bedpost and proceeding to gaze down at you from where he stood.

"I'm- I'm..." You stuttered out, feeling embarrassed by your vocalized actions as lust involuntarily clouded your vision. Mingi immediately recognized the look in your eyes, leading him to move closer to you as he gauged your reaction.

"'m pathetic..." You mumbled under your breath, clinging to the sheets as you desperately tried to reel yourself in from losing yourself to the feelings that ran rampant in your body, fighting an inner war with yourself regarding weather you wanted him to get closer to you or for him to stay as far away from you as possible when he was eyeing you so dangerously.

"You've done well to resist this long. It's up to you baby if you want to continue resisting or taste what you're wanting to experience." Mingi touched your back with a firm touch, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned out loud without attempting to restrain it this time.

"She's so needy for us. I wonder how she got this way!" Yunho cooed while touching the other side of your back.

"She was squirming at the way that your crotch would occasionally brush against her backside and her body was so hot..." Mingi's hand languidly moved along the warmth of your skin, sensing the smoothness of your flesh beneath his fingertips.

"Hngh...~ p-please...~?" You whined, drawing a blank as to what you were begging for. Arousal freely seeped from between your legs and the intense craving to be filled was overwhelming your sensibility to preserve your dignity.

"I'm not going to do anything unless you tell me what it is that you want." Mingi smirked as he stopped his hand at the small of your back, feeling goosebumps form beneath his hand.

"W-want to be f-filled up..." You moaned out reluctantly, turning onto your back to seductively gaze up at the two males that stood above you.

"Filled up by whom?" Mingi was enjoying dragging it out, even with the risk of the staff returning to the photo studio was adding to the excitement of the moment. You looked at Yunho then at Mingi, "Both."

~~~~~~~

"Come here, doll." Mingi beckoned to you from where he lied down on the bed, his pants down to his ankles as his feet rested flat on the floor.

You had stripped off your jeans and was now fully naked and you felt little inhibition in the present moment as you sauntered over to Mingi and straddled him.

Heat flooded your body when you sensed Yunho moving up behind you, "You're beautiful as you are in every way imaginable." Yunho murmurs softly and reached between your legs to pet your pussy, gathering your slick on his fingers and moving on to massage your perineum and then your anal entrance with slow circles that gradually gained confidence with each desperate mewl that you uttered while on top of Mingi.

"Just like that, babygirl." Mingi growled as he cupped the back of your head with his hand and pulled you in for an aggressive kiss, easily blurring your consciousness as his tongue invaded your parted lips with a needy ferocity that left you weak in the knees as he brought you down on his hard cock with his free hand.

You whimpered vulnerably from the firm intrusion of his cock pushing inside of your dripping pussy, feeling pleased from how well he stretched you with his girth.

Yunho was groaning from the feeling of your entrance greedily sucking his fingers deeper inside of your ass.

"So good and tight. I wonder if anyone has ever done this to you before?" Yunho asked curiously, withdrawing his fingers from your stretched entrance and shortly afterwards replacing his fingers with his cock.

"A-ah~" You whimpered, being unable to speak because of the pleasurable sensation of Yunho stretching your ass with his length.

"Shit I can feel you, Yun! So tight for us, princess." Mingi groaned as he sucked amarking at your sensitive pulse point.

"I can feel you too, it's amazing! Her ass is perfect, taking my cock so well." Yunho slammed his hips into your body, following the same rhythm as Mingi had set which was a rough impatient one.

Sweet, sexual wails left your lips as you closed your eyes from the overwhelming bliss of your body being filled by cock and used for pleasure.

Your eyes slid shut as you felt your orgasm approaching after several moments of being stimulated beyond your wildest expectations and Mingi's cock was twitching erratically with each thrust that was growing sloppier and sloppier beneath your body.

His moans mixed with your high pitched cries and Yunho's erratic breaths as he gripped your hips and chased his climax.

"C-can I cum pl-please~?" You begged, uncertain as to who was responsible for giving you the go ahead as you helplessly took the pounding that both of their cocks were giving you.

"No, let's get back to work. You three can play later~" Hongjoong's amused tone froze the male models in their tracks and you felt your orgasm rip through you at that moment, the humiliation of being caught pushed you over the edge and both Mingi and Yunho were astounded just as much as the photographer was.

"F-fuck..." You whimpered as you shakily removed yourself from the males.

"You may rest a moment to calm yourself, Y/N. Then we're back to work." Hongjoong nonchalantly remarks as he converses with another staff member who seemed to be shaken by walking in on the three of you.

"Can we continue this later?" Mingi asks near your ear as he held you to comfort you after your unexpected climax.

"S-sure..." You smiled at him weakly and giggled when Yunho nuzzled into you.

"I'm glad! I wasn't ready to say goodbye!"

Tagging @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw and @hanatiny my lovely people I love you sm 💖💘💓

[thelemmerpie]

You look at your watch, and the same question since the beginning of the school year crosses your mind.

Why having classes on saturday morning?

Everyone is tired, except the teacher. Everyone will have to work this weekend. Students never have a vacation, only stolen time paid from sleepless nights.

Whatever. Since you know Mandy, your saturdays to you two are as free as possible and almost nothing prevents you from seeing each other. Every week, you end up in your favorite italian restaurant for a dinner, often accompanied by a night of pleasure in your flat, or hers. Even if it's still impossible for you to live with each other, spending the weekends together is not uncommon. So much that she has clothes and toilet stuff in your appartment, and vice versa.

You thought about her face floating above a table, lit by candles. It perfumes your spirit and you quickly forget the courses. Gracious, her smile revealing so cute dimples, her long and willowy hair tumbling down like a waterfall made of the most sleeked mirror on her oppulent chest, more or less revealed according to her mood...You're already on a cloud only by thinking about her. The day is beautiful, your eyes closes while you're smiling, and nothing can lift you out of your contemplation.

-Mr. Johnson seems already on weekend. Unless he's still in dreamland?

Almost nothing. The comment is as striking as a bucket of iced water. You turn your head to the old vulture who serves as a teacher. The bun as tight as her thin pinched lips, she looks at you with eyes ready to throw lightning. You stutt.

-Sorry mam'. Tiredness.

-Think about sleeping at night, young man.

As if you could afford it...This first year of master's degree in plastic arts, sculpture course, is more exhausting than expected.You wish you could rest your head every night on Mandy, which is impossible. Since she obtained a bachelor's degree and works on the other side of the city, she had to take a flat. You, you stayed on the campus. Life is good inside it, but not as much as with her.

The rest of the class is deadly boring, but you strive to make as many notes as you can. Finally, after what seems like hours, the old harpy frees you by asking you to return a project for the next time.

You turn on your phone and the notifications appears. Mandy sent you a text. You open it right away, hoping for a soft message to wait until tonight.

"I'm sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight"

A fleeting moment passes, then an immense disappointment falls like a hawk on his prey (and on your heart. And on your libido). This is not the first time that one of you cancels at the last moment, but it's always unpleasant. Nevertheless, you decide to not hold it against her, even if it saddens you.

"Too bad :'(  All you alright? I miss you so much ".

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I really cannot go out yet."

She doesn't give you more details, which worries you a bit. Usually, you immediately tell to the other the reasons for the cancellation. You are puzzled, but you trust her and don't insist.

"If you need anything, I can go to your house tonight. Shop, or anything else. What about pizzas and a movie on the TV ?"

"Yes ! That would be wonderful, and much better ! If I can't go out right now, I can at least let you in ~~ I'm sending you a list."

It's autumn, but the heat persists and the blue sky makes you want a sandwich. You would like her to be there, by your side, lying in the still soft green grass, but she never liked the heat for a simple reason : finding suitable clothes to go out in such heat is almost impossible. Not because of being overweight, no. At least, not all over her body. It's a very local overweight: a macromastia.

As a teenager, her chest was already growing at an impossible rate. At 17, she was competing with the most buxom models you'd ever seen. Since then, her chest continues to grow steadily. Every four months, she is forced to buy new bras. Whole boxes of old underwear hang around her house.

She learned to do with it. As soon as she's back home, she unravels the torture instrument to free her chest. If it excited you at first, it fast becomed as common as taking off your shoes. Ignoring her chest is clearly impossible, especially when it jumps in all directions. But the moments you prefer are those quite ones where you are together to the couch, watching TV while behaving and more if you're in the mood. These moments are still too rare. You hope this will change one day. In such a big city, your respective obligations separates you and if you get closer, it would be your obligations that would be too far from you.

You sigh. In just over a year, you'll be able to live together. Her father has promised you a job in his molding company, and he already considers you two as married. Maybe you'll even be able to take up his business later. A clear path, a good job, a dream girlfriend, and a lovely family in law. It's well worth it to endure on saturday mornings with the vulture and work like a madman.

You finish your sandwich when your phone vibrates again. It's Mandy. A short list is displayed. She doesn't need much : food, some medicine...And new bras.

There, you frown.

She bought some two weeks ago, and they were already costing a fortune, in addition to being horribly uncomfortable. Having a big chest is considered as chance, but the bad sides can be counted easily : besides the expensive and inconvenient underwears, you can cite the look of others and the lustful solicitations from complete strangers when you go out in the street.

And yet, you've never seen her complain. No back pain, a body of foolproof flexibility, and an amused satisfaction when she surprises the eyes of others dive into her deep cleavage. She likes to seduce as well, but has always looked for someone who would consider her as something much than a toy for a titfuck. Her breasts didn't leave you indifferent, but you quickly became interested about her to the point that even naked, you can discuss with her as when she wears a triple layer of thick clothes, in autumn and winter, the only seasons where she can go out without problems. Her two favorite seasons have quickly become yours as she feels comfortable.

And yet, what a pair !

You could carve it from memory on pink marble, with all the details that her body offers. Round, no, a little oval. Glossy, smooth, plumped in her clothes, looking like a silicon bag that other women implant themselves. Except that she's natural. It's so unlikely that many people find it hard to believe, at the point that "fake boobs" yeled loudly always been an insult. Harassment, she knows that. But she has always been proud of her body, and you have always been proud of her. People talk, you live your love, that's enough for you two.

You keep thinking about your sculpture. Her tits would be nothing without gravity, of course. A challenge, to account for a chest so beautiful, so full, but that falls so little. Languid into the lustiness of her own pleasure, as she is after love. She's like her chest: proud, but so smoochy when she loves...

And the nipples, of course ! Small, discreet, as cute and innocent as infants. Two small chicks hatched by two aerolas, soft hen mums. Everytime, you vacillate between kissing them softly or sucking them. Everything in her is so perfect that to soil her would be a crime, if she wern't agree to welcome you near her and into her.

Nevertheless. New bras just two weeks after buying other is strange. Have they broke ? With a chest like hers, nothing surprises you anymore.Those before were worse than grandmother's bras. Thick sackcloths, oversized sports bras, with braces stretching out day after day, until her breasts overflowed and compressed her too much. A sexy photo later, you left to buy others. Shopping with her is always a pleasure, even if shops providing sizes at her convenience are increasingly rare.

You call her, and her voice soon rings in your ears.

-Hello, Danny ?

-Mandy, sweetie, I got your list. Had you not...already bought new bras recently?

It still gets you to be embarrassed to talk about her breasts, sometimes, and you must carefully prepare your words in order to not blush. You prefer to look at them and touch them, in silence, without any other noise than her pleasure moans.

-Sorryyyyyyyy ~~ . But I can't do otherwise. I can't go out with the old ones, it's getting worse and worse.

-Better and better, you mean ?

-For you, yes.

-And for you too. I know you love your breasts.

-Stop, she said, laughing. Or I could cancel the pizza tonight.

-You wouldn't dare !

The indignation in your voice is falsely exaggerated, which makes her laugh once again.

-If the handsome and brave knight carries out his mission and goes shopping, maybe the princess will send him a foretaste of what awaits him...

-An antipasti before the pizza, hm? I'll be curious to see what you're making...

-First, shop. I will prepare everything for tonight.

You're about to say goodbye to her, when a genius idea comes to you.

- What if I buy candles?

- What for?

- You know...candlelit dinner?

- For delivery pizzas ? No thanks. And then, I'm lazy to do the dishes. They have grown so much that I start having back pain...

-Really? In this case, prepare your oils for a long and good massage.

You hear hear murmuring with satisfaction.

-Very well, brave knight. If you manage to kill the hunchbacked dragon, the princess will offer you more than an antipasti.

-It's a great honor you give me, my lady.

-Come on, hang up. The shop will not make it himself.

- See ya, sweetie.

-See ya, cutie.

You hang up, a smile on your lips. Never in your life had you had such spars with anyone before. Each of her words brings you joy. Hurry the day you move in with her : your happiness will be complete.

But now, groceries. Your phone is vibrating again. It's a text sent by Mandy.

"I called Georgina this morning, you just have to take the package and pay. It's a huge lucky break, she has just renewed her supplies and agreed to take back those of two weeks ago. I will repay you".

The advantage of being a loyal and regular customer for out-of-the-ordinary clothing is that the ladies around the globe forms a small private club where they can discuss and exchange advice and services. The shop she usually goes to is far away, but it's a warm one and the woman who holds it is super great. Georgina, the manager, is a little old woman as wrinkled as an apple and had the same chest problems. She quickly decided to help women like her. If the bras remaines expensive, she gladly takes over the old ones to retouch them. She's even made customized tailor-made. But as long as Mandy's breasts will continue to grow at a breakneck pace, it will be useless and she clearly told you that : "I should take new measurements immediately after my work is done. I'd never seen that ! Go on like this, my little one, and congratulations, young man ! "

The shop bell tolls when you enter into it. Some times later, Georgina comes out of the back shop and greets you, delighted as you go forward the sale desk.

-Ah, Daniel ! I received Mandy's message. This girl beats all records, I made a new storpile just for her ! Only two weeks, and you'd think she took six months all at once !

-Thank you, Georgina, this is the first time that happens ...

-Tell me about it ! I've never seen that ! Fortunately, I have a good contact in England. Tell her to slow down, she never listened to me! It's not like you're not already happy with what she have, huh?

You try to show a neutral face, as every time Georgina talks about your relationship. Some grandmothers are discreet, but the old seamstress would be able to collapse buildings just by talking. Like every time, you fail and can only display a shy smile.

- I'll tell him, thanks. How much do I owe you?

The old woman sweeps the air with her hand and rejects the imaginary money.

-Nothing ! We'll see that when she returns the others. Knowing her, she didn't even touch it. She made her measurements, but I put her several sizes just in case. She will only have to bring me back as soon as possible.

-Thank you so much for your generosity. Without you, we don't know what she would do.

-Bah, we have to stick together! It was even worse when I was young.. Corsets that choked you even more than the things I'm selling today ! I say, I can't wait the day we can go out without it, half naked, like you men, without being attacked at every street corner! It's not Mandy that would bother ! Beautiful melons as big and as firm as the pectorals of my late husband !

You agree, but you don't know what to say. You may have an empty look, because Georgina allows you to leave.

-Ah, you men ! Go find your beauty and make us beautiful children, it will make my pleasure !

-Yes Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.

You leave the shop, a second opaque plastic bag in your hands. Even through it, you can feel the fabric of the cup. The more Mandy's breasts grow, the less they seems thick, padded, comfortable. As for the shoulder's straps, they must be tight to cut off her skin. You can't wait the day she'll be able to wear custom made bras for her ease. You send her a text.

"I have groceries and bras, Georgina didn't charge me and she added several sizes just in case."

The answer is quick to arrive.

"Really ? Wonderful ! I'm gonna jump on her neck when I see her. How long before you get in?"

"An hour, I just went out"

"Too looooong..."

You strat to write, but another one appears.

"Here's a little something that will make you want to come even more faster..."

A few seconds later, your reward appears on your screen. It's been a while since you're used to her chest, but your mouth is opening and it takes little to make you drool.

She never sent photos of her completely naked, preferring provocation in exciting clothes. Sometimes she sends you her pretty face. Sometimes full body in a simple, wise, accompanied by her long hair that always makes you fall in love with her when you gaze at them. This time, they are tied over her head, revealing her neck, shoulders and thin arms. She seems to come out of the shower, a few drops still bead of her soft skin A new pair of diving breasts, with monstrous cleavage, overflowing beyond a towel about to explode.

You totally understand the need for new bras. At sight of the nose, only the widest will fit.

And sh's only 21 years old. And she has not finished her growth yet.

In size, yes. Not in cup size.

A new text appears.

"Have you choosed your pizza yet ?"

"I don't know, I'm in a mood for a snack right now. A stuffed sandwich, if you know what I mean ;-)"

“I thought you was in a romantic mood ? Candles of for lightning, not for BDSM, we agrée ?”

"You're impossible, as your jokes"

"No, I'm real. Why don't you touch me, if you don't believe ? I'm still waiting for my brave bra knight ;-) ".

The bus is here. You close your phone, ranks right at the bottom of your pocket so that no one can suspect your activities, and you sit down in a quiet corner. 

Something tells you that you will not have time for eating tonight.

__________

Model is MandaDawn, on Patreon and Onlyfans. That photo is clearly not the best, from two or three years ago when she was on tumblr, but I don’t know why, it inspired me with the force of a train. I barely touched her story since her breasts are effectively still growing, for an actual X cup.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Everlark the movie Elf [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark. 

Special thanks to @norbertsmom​ for her betaing skill and for the name of the story. Parts 3 and 4 will post separately.

_____________

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice is soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”   

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

“Night, mama, night papa,” Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walk out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

“Okay, spill it, Mellark.”

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He’s got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

“No.”

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

“No.”

“Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum,” Peeta says in an excited whisper.

“No…no don’t waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark.” I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. “You know you wanna,” he says in that sexy time voice of his that’s reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There’s no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

“I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin,” I say with no heat in my voice. It’s my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It’s baby number 2; actually it’s baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they’re born. I know what he’s doing, the evil gremlin! He’s trying to distract me because I’m due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

“I love my family,” I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I’d have hunted him down, and burned the fat man’s jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting Botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself on to my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad’s name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn’t have family, and her parents lived a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc. There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I’m so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss,” Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Henderson's were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn’t I told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses were criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

  Pt 2 

Peeta grins excitedly, breaking the narration. “You know she’s right. Papa says the cookie elves have high insurance premiums because their tree catches fire all of the time.” 

“Peeta,” I huff. “Do you want me to finish the story?” 

“Absolutely,” he hugs me closer. “I’m so sad you and Prim never got to grow up at the North Pole with me.”

I can’t help but smile at his sincere wish. “Oh Peeta,” I kiss his cheek.

“The only thing I would never let you do was toy testing,” Peeta whispers.

I chuckled. Peeta hated Jack-In-The-Box’s. They scare the dickens out of him. I lay my head on his shoulders. “Are you going to let me finish the story?”

“You know,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. “I’d spotted you in the city that first day.” 

“You were jumping across the lines of the cross walk, “ I grin at the memory. 

“I followed you until I saw the Empire State Building. Then I went to see my father.”

“I know,” I caress his face.

“Start from that point.”

“Okay, you ready now.” My babies were moving in my belly.

“Right, you were in your father’s office delivering the most awkward Christmas gram.” 

Peeta chuckles. “I don’t have your pretty voice.”

I sigh. “Peeta.”

“Right, I’ll be quiet.”

I give him a look. 

“But just so you know, when those guards told me to go back to Macy’s, I was curious as to why you were dressed as an elf.“

I roll my eyes. Did I forget to mention my husband is a talker. He is a chatterbox. I swear Peeta is the type who’d make friends with a paper bag.

"I thought your elf name was so pretty,” he sighs happily.

“Peeta, if you want me to tell the story. You have to hush!” I admonish, if I didn’t we would be here until tomorrow.

“Oh,” he gushes. “Yes, tell the story.” 

“So, there I was in the middle of New York, like a morsel in shark infested waters. I.E….”

“That passion fruit spray is horrible,” Peeta grumbles. “I do not know how women drink that stuff.” 

I want to laugh. There are still things that Peeta doesn’t understand about human society; perfume was one of them, and that fact endeared him to me.

“Can you start at the moment our eyes met?” Peeta gives me a wobbly smile. 

Ah, now I know why he’s interrupting so much. “Okay.”

Sighing I recall that day. Prim and I were out to breakfast. She was harping on me to find someone. Did I fall to mention Primrose was only twenty years old at the time, and at that age I was ancient at the tender age of twenty six. Seriously twenty-six. So what if I had never dated, never had a boyfriend, and never kissed anyone. My sister was right. I was a prude, but I’d seen how love could screw you over. My mom never recovered and she died alone in some home of a broken heart. All I had in the world was my sister. My Prim, and she was the only person I would love. Until that afternoon. 

“Seriously Katniss, you’re twenty-six,” Prim said. 

Eye rolling was a national pastime when speaking to a glamazon who thought I needed to date.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Prim said, removing my sunglasses. “And also, sunglasses in the middle of December, so not tre chique.” 

Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. Fake smile. CANASTO!

“You are the worst,” Prim hissed.

I knew my sister wasn’t mad at me. Annoyed, yes. Mad, no. “Prim, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

“Katniss, I just don’t want you to impersonate elves for the rest of your life, and when you’re like forty-six, you’ll realize you’re alone with a cat, who pisses in your shoes, and scratches your furniture.” 

I moved to pay our bill.

“No way,” Prim said, slamming her hand on the bill. “I make what you make in a month in two hours of work. This is on me.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Also, stop closing yourself to Christmas. Santa isn’t going to leave you anything under the tree.”

“Like Santa exists,” I snorted.

Prim gasped. “You take that back. Santa Claus is real Katniss, just like the rainbows, and pigs and frogs having a long term, caring relationship, and love exists.” 

My sister’s wide eyed passionate confession shook me, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “a frog and a pig?” 

“Miss Piggy and Kermit are together, and if they can make it, no matter what the media says, anything is possible.”

“Huh,” I said, leaving the luncheonette near Penn Station. We walked to the corner, where she’d take the stairs to the lower level. 

I took a look at the stairs, knowing this was the moment I would say goodbye to my sister once again. My eyes filled with unwanted tears. I could still recall the little girl with the untucked shirt that looked like a duck tail. It’s where the nickname li’l duck came from.

“Don’t cry,” Prim whispered. “Quack, quack.”

“I hate it when we have to say goodbye,” I said quietly.

“It’s not goodbye, Katniss; it’s until the next time.” Prim grinned then she took my elf hat and put it on my head. “Go on, terrify the poor children of the city with your menacing scowl. But you better watch out, better not cry.”

I groaned. “Prim, I would rather hear seagulls squawking then you singing.” 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” Prim said.

“You’re a brat.”

“Brat, I’m on Santa’s nice list. You’re the one on the naughty list.”

“There’s no such thing as Santa…” the words died on my lips as I saw a huge man dressed in an elaborate elf outfit jumping on the lines of the crosswalk gleefully. I was struck by the joy on his face.

He looked like an angel with wavy blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was one thing to see a six-year-old child with that wide eyed innocence, but a tall, broad shouldered man with large hands made me think perhaps he’d escaped his caretakers. His elf outfit wasn’t like the cheap one I had to wear. It was made from a rich fabric with elaborately embroidered gold thread. 

If there was something I knew about, it was fabric. I never had soft fabrics growing up and I was obsessed over soft materials. I dreamed of cashmere, Egyptian cotton, mulberry silks, and linens. His green tunic was made from merino wool, like the ones they made in England in those bespoke shops.  Even his hat, although a ridiculous cone shape, was not some cheap fabric covered cardboard that you’d find in a costume shop. It was made from genuine thick green wool felt with a yellow satin ribbon wrapped around it. A red feather bobbed up and down as he jumped.

He was so happy. He looked up, as if sensing my presence. Our eyes met and he smiled jovially and waved at me. My mouth went dry, because, gaw, Canasto!

This man-child was gorgeous. 

“Earth to Katniss.” Prim snapped her fingers in my face.

“Sorry.” I looked back to my sister.

Prim looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay.”

I dipped out of my sister’s way. “I think I saw an elf.”

Prim laughed. “It’s Christmas, Katniss. Santa’s elves are everywhere.” Prim gave me a hug before descending the stairs to the lower level of the station. 

Seeing my sister go was difficult, but I couldn’t shake the tall man dressed as an elf. He even had on yellow tights with black elf shoes. 

I made my way to Macy’s. I could see the Empire State building in the background as I took a left to head to the employee’s entrance. 

When I arrived, the floor manager Brutus headed straight to me. He was a ridiculous man with muscles in his neck and a bald head. His meaty fingers held a tiny clipboard. 

Brutus did not believe in technology. He refused to use a tablet. He said the muckety-mucks, as he called them, were out to get him. He wore dark brown pants that were too small for his large frame and even when he stood you could see his white socks. He wore a sweater vest with various pens in his front pocket and a cheap plastic necklace that was supposed to look like tree lights.  

“Jovie,” Brutus said looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Brutus,” I smiled. Jovie was my elf name.

“Our last Santa quit, and we have no one, so until then I need you to help out in gift wrapping. Don’t forget to make sure the ribbon curl is six inches.”

“But you need more than six inches, to make a good curl.”

“Six inches.”

Sighing I walked to the station and nodded to the girls who were at the gift-wrapping station. I sat there trying to make six inch curls. People were insane at Christmas; they were stressed out to buy things, and things never made anyone happy. Things were just things.  

The line of people got shorter and I noticed the tree in the center of the sales floor was looking a little sad. So getting the ladder, I rearranged the ornaments and noticed one of the lights was out. From this vantage point I saw Brutus drag him in, the elf I saw on the street.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I focused on the tree, eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Buddy, you need to remember you get a half-hour break when you work under six hours and a one hour break when you work over six hours. If I catch you on the floor again I’ll have to write you up.” 

His name was Buddy. My lips formed a goofy smile at his name. Up close he was prettier, his wavy hair curled up at the ends. A shiver ran up my spine at all of those curls. I could picture little boys with blond ringlets and a little girl with dark tresses in green colored elf clothing. I held on to the ladder as I swayed. 

“Wow, what’s this?” HIs eyes quickly darted to the crowded sales floor. 

“This is the north pole,” Brutus said looking at his precious clipboard.

“No it’s not,” Buddy waved at a pair of babies inside of a stroller. 

“Yes it is,” Brutus said.

“No it’s not,” Buddy eye’s traveled to the tree and I hid behind it so that he didn’t see me.

“Yes it is,” Brutus put his hands on his wide hips.

“No it’s not,” Buddy said smiling. “Where’s the snow?”

“He’s right, there’s no snow,” a six-year old girl said. She’d been listening to the conversation.  

I nearly snorted. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Brutus brows knit together.

“I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite thing,” he said. Bouncing to the Christmas music that was being pumped through the speakers. 

“Well stop smiling, and make work your favorite thing to do. And who gave you that outfit?”

“It’s mine,” Buddy said, splaying those large hands on his chest looking down at his elf outfit. 

Brutus looked at the intricate gold embroidery. “Fine, if that’s your story. You should make work your priority instead of shopping.” Brutus sighed, looking at his clipboard again. “I have to make the announcement.”

Buddy nodded, but once more was looking around. 

I was working on the tree lights by now and really didn’t want to get down because I wanted to keep staring at him. At his great legs. Normally tall guys had spindly legs. Not his, yum. 

“Okay I’ve got an announcement. Santa will be here tomorrow at 10AM. Keep your receipts so you can see Santa.” 

“SANTA!” Buddy yelled. He jumped, clasped his hands and a little girl next to him joined him. Soon there was a flock of kids doing the same thing, all speaking at once and he was nodding and speaking to them as if he knew Santa. 

I chuckled cause I’ve never seen Brutus look so stunned and speechless. He was carried away by Chaff, his second in command. 

Buddy turned and focused on me. I pretended that he wasn’t just a few feet away from me. I could feel his gaze as I fixed the bulb that was not letting the string of lights to turn on. The tree lit up and I swear his eyes seemed to glow brighter than the lights on the tree.

My stomach did a little flip-flop. “What!” I said defensively. I turned and saw how big his eyes were and the genuine smile. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“I love Christmas trees,” he said hesitantly. “It’s nice to see someone else who enjoys elf culture as much as I do.” 

Of course the guy that would make butterflies dance in my stomach was a wackadoo. I scowled. This wasn’t happening. Getting down from the tree, I quickly walk away, grabbing a few stuffed animals that were discarded and putting them back on the display.

“Looks like someone needs Christmas cheer and the best way to do it is to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” He chased after me.

“No,” I said trying to get him to stop, but liking that he’s walking after me like a wide eyed puppy-dog.

“Anyone can. All you have to do is put a group of words together in a tune,” he said sweetly.

I hopped on up on the stage where the guy in the red suit would be seated tomorrow. I turned to look at him. As I spoke to him, I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. Because the last time I sang a Christmas song it was with my dad, hours before he died.  “I know that, I can sing, but I choose not to sing.”

“Look, I’ll do it for you maybe it will make you smile,” Buddy said. He takes a deep breath, “I”M SINGING. I’M IN A STORE AND I AM…”

It was horrible, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“THERE’S NO SINGING IN THE NORTH POLE!” Brutus comes running out from behind the registrar.

“Yes there is,” Buddy says grinning at me. “I’m Peeta.”

“Wait I thought your name was Buddy?”

“That’s my middle name,” Peeta said. “Is Jovie your name?”

“No,” my voice sounds breathy. “Jovie is my elf name.”

“So what’s your real name?” His voice sounded deeper and I swear I could see nothing else but his big blue eyes tenderly gazing at me.

“Katniss,” I said, wondering why my knees were so wobbly. I couldn’t fall for a guy who thought he was an elf. A very good looking, broad shouldered guy with the face of an angel, but nonetheless, a complete wakadoo.    

The ten minute warning came on letting people know they needed to go home.

“Oh I’ve got to get ready for Santa,” Peeta muttered under his breath. But before he could move Brutus appears. 

“Buddy,” Brutus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. I was left standing on that stage with a big old goofy grin on my face.

[cockasinthebird]

About a month ago, it was a certain someone’s birthday, and it took me that long to write this, BUT I would like to use the two weeks of being flagged as a perfectly valid excuse for no writing at all, thank you very much yes 😌

So, to dearest @jimhhawkins, You’ve already read some of this, but here’s all of it! The ending is not what I had in mind originally, but I am not in full control of where it goes; I simply follow the flow of the story and so... well, enjoy 💝

-

“Sometimes I just want to fucking punch you.”

“Then go ahead, pretty boy; hit me, if you dare.”

It’s been a few months since their “official meeting” at Tina’s party, and it is ardently clear to any one person that spends even a minute in the same room as these two, that what’s happening between them burns hotter than the sun, a blistering heat that can’t be extinguished, yet whether it’s hatred or passion is up for discussion.

Steve’s fist curls tighter. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Whatever is going on between them, both in public and in private, is painful - broken hearts and broken noses, things that they both crave for viciously, and when being friends is too dangerous, too close, a useless rivalry suddenly doesn’t sound that bad. At least it still brings them together.

Like now. The snow lies heavy on the grass surrounding the Harrington mansion, the dark woods shielding them from the rest of the world as they stand frozen here together, within reach, the tips of boots just touching.

Yes being friends would make everything too hard to conceal, the truth behind their anger would be too obvious then. So Steve dares.

And Billy laughs, bent slightly forward as red spatters across the white snow, like rose petals scattered to set the mood, and Billy is fucking laughing, maniacal and wild, as he whips up again to let the stream from his nose run uninterrupted down his lips, drip from his chin onto Steve’s winter boots.

“Better?” he grins.

The ache in Steve’s fist spreads till his hand feels restless, the urges of his heart upon seeing Billy bleed rushes down quick.

“Not yet,” his response a lurid groan of wanting, and with a hand strong at Billy’s neck, pulls him in to taste the coppery hatred, the sickly need.

Billy doesn’t punch back, doesn’t have a witty remark, doesn’t call Steve disgusting names for any of this. No, he lets his so-called rival do whatever the fuck he pleases; pulling their bodies flush, lapping up the blood, biting and pulling at his lips, grinding their growing lust together.

“God- shit, I wanna fuck you so bad,” Billy growls out with exposed canines, hungry, craving, as he grabs Steve by the jacket, pinning him against the BMW, grinding harder till denim starts to hurt.

It takes a few brutish thrusts together with Steve whining at the friction before he finds his voice again; “Get inside then.”

-

This isn’t the first time Billy’s been inside the Harrington’s home, and it definitely won’t be the last, but just like on any previous occasion, he doesn’t get to look around - no tour of the dozens of rooms, no offers of beer or food, no chance to stare at family photos that might or might not hang on the walls, all he knows of is the carpeted stairs going up, and the horrible plaid walls of Steve’s bedroom.

It’s neat and tidy as always, doesn’t really look lived in at all, more like a showroom of a model home than a teenage boy’s bedroom. At least the sheets are green now rather than blue, so that’s something.

Steve looks better in green anyways, Billy notes, as his pale, naked body lands on top of the covers, dark hair spread out on a pillow beneath, the moonlight caressing his dotted skin, perfectly highlighting the day old bruises that’s been bitten, kissed, punched, sucked across every inch of available flesh, leading in a clear and practiced pattern down to where he’s needy for attention the most.

As if they don’t have all the time in the world for this, Billy tears away his own clothes and nearly throws himself at Steve again, settling in firm between spread thighs. He kisses along the collarbone, tastes his prey’s heartbeat as he licks down his chest, nipping at oversensitive buds that haven’t had time to heal proper since last, and he can’t help but grin at the pained hiss that’s followed by a roll of hips - the leaky head of Steve’s full dick rubbing against Billy’s stomach.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve moans with a fist in golden curls, pulling him down, demanding that he go further, oh so impatient to have those lips do what they do best.

And Billy doesn’t resist that, for as much as he loves teasing Steve till he’s on the verge of tears and begging, his own steely cock has been pulsating to the beat of his heart since Steve suckerpunched him outside.

He presses his nose deep into the wiry hair that leads from the navel to Steve’s long erection, inhaling his sweaty scent, musky and strong with just a hint of soap from the morning, to which it all escapes Billy again in a stuttering breath. 

In this moment, nothing else in the world exists but the smell of Steve, the taste of Steve, the sound of Steve, as Billy lets out his tongue, wet and flat, to run up the length of his throbbing dick, base to tip, and the moans that echoes out as Billy closes his lips around the head to suck it clean of pre is like an angel’s choir to him, heavenly and desirous.

Legs tremble closed around his head, over his shoulders as he slowly sinks down, swallowing every single inch he can, gag reflex shot to hell by now from frequent use. He’d never dare admit this to anyone, especially Steve, but every day Billy thinks about choking to near death on Harrington’s cock, eager to feel it in his throat, hit against the back and leave him breathless and hoarse with a dull pain for hours to come. The weight, the taste, the touch. It might be the one thing that brings him the most shame in his life, but also the most joy.

By now he can go till his nose is buried in dark pubes, and stays there to revel in the constrictive feel of Steve’s head blocking out most air, pushing hard back against those hips that buck up, the hand in his crown keeping him down as Steve twitches in his mouth, and Billy can’t help but hum at that, enticing and deep.

“Mmh, fuck, Billy, you feel so good,” Steve moans out low, pulling at those golden curls to lift Billy up, just to push him down again.

Blue eyes vanish behind lids as they flutter closed. Billy relaxes, melts into the sheets, focuses on how the tip of Steve’s cock runs along his palate, past his uvula and into his throat where he swallows around the hard flesh.

Steve’s fingers slip loose, falling to choke the sheets beneath them, allowing Billy freedom to go faster, setting a sloppy pace, loud and obscene, spit running down his chin, his throat, a scene straight from top shelf porn if Billy were to brag about it, and the other guy can only concur - gasping out, calling Billy’s name over and over, mixed with curses of fuck and shit, occasionally praises of that feels amazing and a dozen yes’.

“I-I’m close, ah-” he moans out and lifts off of the bed, seeking more to bring him to bliss, making Billy gag at the movement - a sound that brings another deep groan out from above.

At that, Billy makes a sound that would have been of euphoria if it wasn’t muffled by a mouthful of cock, his own steely prick leaking where it’s caught between his stomach and the bed, each abusive little thrust into his mouth makes his body kick against the soft and expensive fabric.

He stills all movement as Steve bucks his hips again, fucking into Billy’s wet heat, whose eyes roll back, toes curling in a struggle to restrain himself from cumming all too soon, oh how easy he is under King Steve’s command.

And from many times before, he recognises the urgent breathing and rising volume of Steve’s elated cursing that comes with him emptying out into Billy’s throat, so deep in that not a single drop can be spilled, to which Billy gladly swallows everything that Steve offers him.

He hollows his cheeks as he moves off, gasping for air and he lets Steve’s flaccid cock slap wetly onto his stomach, who’s fighting for air all the same with an arm thrown over his face.

“We’re not done yet, princess,” Billy growls, kisses his way up abs, through the patch of chest hair, moving till his own lonesome dick rubs along Steve’s, making the brunette hiss and grab on to Billy’s shoulder, digging in fingers.

Steve bites into his lower lip, staring down at Billy as he keeps grinding them together, the soreness of being so oversensitive overshadowed by how lustful he remains.

“Y-You know where the- ah- the lube is,” he says with a wavering voice.

Billy doesn’t even have to look when he reaches for the drawer in the bedside table, proving just how often he’s done this- how often they have done this. His thumb runs along the lid of the tube, ready to flick it open any coming second, but he’s thriving - throbbing from the way Steve’s whining about the roll of his hips, how it’s just not enough, not what he brought him here for in the first place.

Then there’s a fist in his mullet, yanking him away from where he’s been sucking and biting on Steve’s neck, angling him up till their eyes meet.

“Are you gonna fuck me, or should I call somebody else?” he threatens with a frown, brows drawn together all serious.

But Billy is always up to challenge that.

“Oh yeah?” There’s no grin, no smile, just his tongue licking across his lips. “And who else would fuck you so readily?”

“I know Charles in algebra is willing to do my homework if he also gets to do me. Joe in Spanish is so eager to teach me all the right words, and he knows how to use his tongue. Or maybe Tommy Hagan, hmmm,” Steve hums in contemplation at that name, smiling because he knows what the thought of him and Tommy together does to Billy and his intense jealousy of Steve’s first guy. “It’s been a while since I let him fuck me good from behind.”

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” Billy huffs out harsh with teeth bared, ready to bite and tear, convincing enough in his tone, but the way a jealous rage pulsates through him begs to differ.

“And what are you gonna do about that?” Steve tilts his head back, exposing his neck, daring Billy to do what he so clearly craves.

Then he’s gone, crawled away, and before Steve can even question it, he’s flipped onto his stomach, legs pushed apart by Billy’s own, now a fist in his dark hair where he’s pulled back with an all too loud moan.

“Ain’t nobody ever fucked you like I do,” Billy snarls directly into his ear.

He angles himself proper till his steely cock slick with pre-cum lands in the crevice of Steve’s cheeks. There he rocks his hips, all the way till his balls slap against Steve’s ass, then back till the tip tickles and teases to go between.

Steve breathes with elation, keening, both hands choking the life out of a pillow.

“If I ever find out you went back and fucked Hagan, I’ll beat the living crap out of him, got it?”

An ever so deeply satisfied moan and an obedient nod is all Steve can manage to respond with.

“Good. You’re mine now, and I don’t do well sharing my toys.”

The cap pops open, and Billy releases his hold on Steve to instead lube up his digits, guides the hand between them and down to mercilessly push the middle finger all the way in, making Steve’s back arch beautifully.

“F-fuck, Billy!” he calls out as his head lands heavy on the pillow, Billy’s thick finger driving in and out with fervor.

A devil’s worth of a grin cracks across Billy’s face as he listens to Steve’s moans. The lube gets tossed aside, the hand instead going down to wrap around Steve’s filling cock, making the oversensitive brunette practically cry out at the touch.

“Mmmm look at you,” he rumbles deep like a bassline, “I’ve barely even managed to swallow all of your cum and you’re hard again already.”

That one digit pushes in deep, curls at all the right spots, as is evident by the loud and abrupt, “A-ah! Shit, yes! There- God-” feeding into Billy’s self-confidence that already rests high above any other person’s ideal.

“Yeah, you like what I do to you?” He thrusts in a second finger, Steve fighting back his every sound, yet Billy feels his lust in the way he clenches and trembles around the two thick digits pumping in and out. “Mmmh, fuck you’re so tight - always such a good little hole for my big cock.”

Steve moans heavy into the pillow, trying not to sound as pliant and easy as he is in the hands of Billy - trying to keep some semblance of self-respect perhaps, keep up that wall that still separates them. But giving in with no inhibitions is so much easier.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” Billy breathes ragged and wanton as he adds a third finger, adoring the way Steve curses all muffled. “Fuck you into the mattress so hard you won’t be able to sit right for a week.”

At that promise, Billy feels pre leak onto his fingers, slicking up the motion he consistently strokes along Steve’s long erection.

And he chuckles like thunder behind immaculate pecs. “So wet for me, princess. You’re such an eager little whore.”

“I swear to God, Billy, if you’re not gonna fuck me instead of just talking about it, I’ll hit you again,” Steve speaks as he raises up on elbows, glancing behind to watch Billy’s self-satisfied grin falter, a storm brewing in his eyes, clouding the blue skies there.

Then the hand around his throbbing dick is gone, grabbing a fistful of hair instead and shoving his face back into the pillow. Billy pulls out his fingers again, smearing the excess lube all over his own veiny cock, palming at the head as he stares at Steve’s impatient ass clenching at nothing, waiting and waiting and waiting.

“Just when I start to tolerate you, you go being such a dipshit, Harrington.”

Billy strokes himself for longer than necessary, moaning with just a slight bit of exaggeration, egging Steve on, and if his frustrated sounds are anything to go off of, it’s working.

“You only barely make up for it by being such an easy lay.”

He brings the blunt head of his shaft to the hole he’s hungering for, running it up and down the puffy ring, listening to Steve whine for it.

“I just have to look at you and you’re hard.”

Pushes in, just the tip of it, just enough to have Steve let out a long sound of annoyance, a pleading little moan as he leans back, chasing the euphoric stretching of his body, but a firm hand on his ass keeps him at bay, as Billy pulls away just a bit, before dipping in again, like he’s testing the waters, grinning at the reaction he’s getting.

And Steve knows what he has to do for it, hates it, a clear blush spreading across his pale shoulders, washing down his back.

“Billy, Billy please,” he mewls, trying to struggle against the warm palm squeezing a cheek; not in an attempt to wrestle free, but to give Billy what he’s asking for, without so many words. “Please just fuck me, I-I need your cock so bad, so so bad, Billy.”

Billy could absolutely cum from just this - hearing Steve beg like a common whore, stroking his pained erection and giving nothing more than the tip to that willing hole. All he needs is to know he’s needed like this, and he’s finished, but the pleasure of unravelling King Steve this way…

With one brutish thrust, Billy sinks into Steve with such fervor that his knees slip on the bed, spreading him further till he lies flat on top of the covers, breathlessly stuttering out pleasure of being trapped beneath Billy’s forceful weight. Every little sound Steve makes is undeniably euphoric, and Billy stills all movement to enjoy how Steve’s body takes a chokehold on his fat cock, sucking him in like he’s been missed and waited for for years.

“That what you wanted?” Billy drawls out and leans down to bite at the shell of Steve’s ear, his dick twitching and pulsating deep inside, moving his hips to draw tight circles, making the other gasp and moan mindlessly.

Steve eventually manages a hopeless, “Y-yeah,” lying limp and filled and satisfied, when Billy angles his head; turning him enough to share a kiss, to pry lips apart with his tongue, to swallow the little whines that spills as he starts a shallow and agonizingly slow pace. 

“Billy, ahh…” Steve whispers, tries to catch on to the rhythm, grinding himself against the covers; lube dripping from his hole mixes with his pre cum, wetting the fabric till it’s slippery and nice against his aching dick.

Then Billy raises off of him - keeps him caught against the mattress, a warm and heavy hand on his back like an anchor, fingers spread out between shoulder blades, the other reaching up to tangle fingers in dark, soft hair, pulling there just enough for Steve’s mouth to be forced open, enabling every lewd little noise escape, moaning and keening, begging.

He pulls all the way back till the head is barely inside still, revelling in the way every muscle clings to him with desperation, watches in the darkness how pale hands strangle a pillow, feels his body tense with irritation beneath his palm. The shift of it all is immediate when Billy pushes back in- shoves his steely cock to the base and out again, loving the perfected melody of skin slapping and Steve crying out loud with the pleasure that Billy gives him, pounds him, fucks him like he’d die if he didn’t.

“Fuck, Billy,” a pathetic, needy, elated whine.

When Billy’s hand lets go of dark locks, Steve’s head lands on the pillow, his body limp and unmoving as Billy uses him like he truly is no more than an expensive toy - a favorite toy. His toy.

“Shit that’s good, arrh-” Billy rasps out.

He rakes one hand down Steve’s skin, across the dimples at the small of his back, down till he grabs a soft cheek with a firm hand, squeezing and pulling it aside to grant him a perfect view of where he fervently thrusts into Steve’s hungering body.

“Come on, get up on your knees, Harrington,” he demands with a voice deep and thrilling, as he pulls out and inches away a bit to make room for how frantically Steve shuffles to get up on his knees, ass in the air, back arched, head turned to gaze back at Billy.

Who licks his lips before biting down as he dives back in with no warning, earning him a lascivious, shocked moan. He grabs on to Steve’s hips as he fucks him with a rapid pace, digging in his fingers till it should hurt, but anyone having the pleasure of listening to Steve like this knows he’s brimming with heat. The curses, the moans, the groans, the pleas - Billy whips his head back to lose himself in it all, an endless symphony of eroticism and animalistic urges and unadulterated wanting.

“B-Billy- Billy, I’m close, ahh-” Steve can barely manage coherent speech, “Please, touch me- fuck, Billy, please!”

Fuck if hearing Steve’s mindless begging doesn’t push at Billy’s insides, waves of lust running hot like lava on the edge of spilling out, but Billy grins all wicked and chuckles hoarsely.

“Nah pretty boy, you wanna cum again, you’re gonna cum untouched,” he growls and slams in harder to emphasise his unfair statement.

Steve dares to defy, bringing his own hand down, but seconds before he’d have been able to jerk himself to completion, Billy takes a punishing grip around his wrist.

“What did I just fucking say?” there’s barely even a hint of jesting to Billy’s tone at that. “Give me your other hand.”

With no hesitation, Steve does as demanded - angles his other arm behind to where Billy wraps his strong fingers around both wrists before pressing them against his back, Billy’s whole body weight on top of it, rendering Steve completely helpless.

Helpless, powerless, completely at Billy’s mercy, skin burning where he strangles his wrists, fingers digging into his hip, a perfectly orchestrated plight that ignites fireworks; a colorful barrage with tensing muscles and a wild cry as Steve cums, feet lifting off of the mattress with the curl of his toes, the release of it all ruining his sheets.

“Holy shit- fuck- Stevie-” Billy barks out rough as he pounds vigorously till his thighs and hips stings, Steve’s body like a vicegrip around his steely cock, burning hot, slick and velvety.

It takes no more than a few brutish thrusts for him to come undone, filling up Steve’s hungering hole with all that he is; an electric charge detonating in his gut that bends him over, sweaty locks falling around his stilled face like a curtain, his entire body pulsating and throbbing as he grinds his last bit of energy against Steve’s flushed ass.

As the world returns with the cooling of his body, all to be heard is both their labored breathing, ragged gasps and wet swallowing.

Billy kisses every mole across Steve’s upper back, shoulder to shoulder, grip softening around Steve’s wrists, but neither of them pulls away. His other hand rubs soothingly at where he’s been viciously holding on for dear life.

He doesn’t want to pull out, move away, end this. This… warm feeling, limp dick buried in Steve, something else buried in Billy’s soul, his mind knows what it is yet still fumbles to unlock it. With help, perhaps, it would see the light of day sooner, but that would require for him to find the courage to reach out.

And Billy always finds himself a coward in the wake of his heart.

With a sigh that hopefully sounds more tired and satisfied than dejected and hopeless, he lifts off of where he’s been resting his forehead between Steve’s shoulder blades-

When the soft and pale body beneath him twists around, Steve reaching out to cautiously grap Billy by the arm, a softness in his eyes where they meet through the darkness, and with flushed cheeks and battered breath, the request comes gingerly,

“Wait, don’t… don’t pull out yet.”

Perhaps even Billy’s heart stops with the rest of him.

“Can we… lie for a bit?”

Well that’s… something new, and the shock of it shows in the wrinkles of Billy’s brow. But when Steve gives his bicep a beckoning squeeze, gaze unwavering, Billy’s more afraid of saying no than yes.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot- Out Of My League

Intro: Steve can tell Katie’s feeling a little bit down. But in true Cap style, he’s not gonna give up until he figures out why and a way to make it better….

Warnings: Bad language. NSFW (SMUT!) No under 18s.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  Someone once commented when reading Stark Spangled Banner that they felt like Katie loved Steve more than he loved her, and that got me seriously doubting the way I had written Steve as that is most certainly not the case. The pair of them are ridiculously in love and Steve is utterly besotted with his girl, and let’s not forget spent fifteen years alone in the past to ensure he could come back to her and live the rest of his days out with the love of his life. Also worth remembering he came back looking like Ari Levinson (it was the 70s) and he kept the beard simply because she liked it…what better declaration of love?!

With this in mind, I asked a few people what they thought and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ came back with a perfect song which she said she feels en-CAP=sulates (pun intended) Steve’s feelings towards Katie. So I’ve taken a different format to usual and pulled together a Song Based Fic based on a little request from @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for some soft Steve.

Written with Steve’s POV in mind.

The song is Stephen Speaks- Out Of My League. Take a listen, because it’s phenomenally beautiful.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 September 2027

It’s her hair and her eyes today That just simply take me away And the feeling that I’m falling further in love Makes me shiver but in a good way

“Hey Pal.” Steve smiled softly, picking his baby son up out of the basinet. Instantly Harry’s soft whimpers died down as he pressed his face into his dad’s shoulder, his soft head nuzzling into the crook of Steve’s neck.

“You hungry?” He asked gently, carrying the six week old baby into the kitchen to grab him a bottle out of the fridge. Once he’d warmed it, checked it, he returned to the sitting room and began to feed him, Harry’s little cheeks working eagerly as he took his milk. Steve watched as his baby boy turned his bright blue eyes onto his and he smiled down at his son, gently adjusting his arms to make sure he was settled comfortably before he glanced up at the clock.

Katie should be back soon from dropping the elder two littles off and Steve was hoping that Rori had decided to get out of the damned car without a full on fight like the one he’d had with her the previous morning. His little Star Spangled Diva really wasn’t happy about the fact she had to go to Nursery when Harry could stay home all day. And she didn’t care when he’d explained to her that Harry was a baby and therefore was too little to go to nursery. She’d screamed and screamed and yelled about the fact that it wasn’t fair but her tantrum had simply made Steve even more determined get her out of the car and through the fucking door. In the end he had carried her in and explained to the familiar members of staff from Jamie’s time there, what was going on.They’d simply smiled at him, told him they’d dealt with worse (he didn’t voice the fact that he seriously doubted that) and he’d set her down on the floor, crouched in front of her and told her to be a good girl and he’d be back in a few hours, leaving her screaming behind him as he walked off. It had almost killed him but he was thankful it was him doing it and not Katie as she constantly doubted her decisions at a mother as it was and he knew that, despite all the teasing Katie did about Rori being Steve’s little Princess, she would be the one that caved and brought her home as she couldn’t bear to leave her behind, screaming.

Both of them loved Rori with everything they had, just the same as all their kids, but Jesus Christ she was the hardest one to deal with out of the lot of them, especially when she didn’t get her own way. Just like her mother, Steve often teased Katie, although he knew that deep down that was a slightly un-fair comparison. Whilst Katie was certainly prone to her little brat moments, she was utterly selfless when it came to the kids and her family and friends, one of the many things he adored about her.

Lucky’s ears pricked up, and his tail started to thump against the rug and moments later Steve heard the door open and shut. She walked into the living room and he instantly frowned at her face, he could see she’d been crying.

“Honey?” He asked, looking at her as she walked towards him, running her finger softly over Harry’s cheek.

“I literally fed him about an hour before I left.” She chuckled, avoiding Steve’s questioning eyes. “You and your damned serum.” Steve watched her as she sat down next to him, tucking her legs under her on the chair, her long hair falling over her face slightly.

“Katie,” he spoke a little more sternly and he saw her take a deep breath and turn her face to him, “what’s wrong? Was she a pain in the ass again?” “No, actually, she was perfect.” Katie smiled. “Got out of the car, walked in, smiled at everyone and headed off to play. I nearly fainted in surprise.” “So why have you been crying?” “I had a baby six weeks ago, it’s just hormones. Honestly, I’m fine.” Steve could tell she was lying, he always could. Her eyes avoided his as she couldn’t ever lie to his face. But whatever it was she didn’t want to tell him so he let it slide.

For now.

“Okay” he said, looking at her. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking, why don’t we head out for the afternoon?”

“Shouldn’t you be prepping ready for going back for your pre-term meetings next week?” She looked at him and he shrugged.

“I’ll catch up.” He said with a smile. “Spending time with you is more important.”

Katie smiled and peered over at Harry who had stopped drinking. Steve gently placed the bottle onto the coffee table and moved Harry so he was over his shoulder, rubbing at his back.

“Anywhere in mind?”

“Well,” Steve looked at her, “we really should get you a new car.”

“Steve, I’m not…” “Just, hear me out,” he said, silencing her. “I’m not asking you to get rid of the Camero, I know how much that car means to you.”

She looked down and took a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, it’s a lump of metal but…” “Tony got it you, I know.” Steve said softly “But I’m driving it now all the time because you need the Audi for the kids so I thought maybe we should get another one. The Camero can be your little, I dunno, fun car.” “Fun car?” Katie looked at him, smiling as he shrugged.

“Yeah, one that we can snatch a drive in every once in a while when we’re alone. Although I know that hardly happens now.” Katie gave a chuckle, before she shrugged. “Okay, we could go car hunting I suppose.” “And grab lunch?” Steve looked at her.

“Sure.” She nodded before she smiled a little.

“What you thinking?” Steve asked. “How much I loved my range rover that I got for my twenty-first.” A fond look crossed her face. Steve smiled, that had been the car she’d had when he’d first met her, and it had been flatted under the triskelion.

“Yeah, that was a nice car. Why don’t we go and see about getting you another one?”

“Yeah, maybe…” At that point Harry let out a burp and both parents looked at him, Steve giving his head a kiss.

“Here, I’ll take him. You go get showered and then we can head out.” Katie gestured with her arms. Steve gently passed him over and she held him close, his head resting on her chest, his little legs supported by her arms. Steve stood up, dropped a soft kiss to his wife’s lips and then headed up the stairs to get changed.

***** All the times I have sat and stared As she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair And she purses her lips, bats her eyes and she plays with me Sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say

The car shopping went better than Steve had anticipated. The minute Katie had sat in one of the vehicles in the Range Rover showroom he’d seen her face light up, as she checked all the buttons and the various gadgets the car had, asking the sales man various questions. Forty minutes or so later, after a heavy negotiation during which his wife had almost reduced the salesman to a quivering wreck, they left, Katie having ordered a Firenze red Range Rover Velar. Katie had smiled at the colour, saying it reminded her of Tony’s Iron Man suit, which had made Steve chuckle a little at her confession.

And then she had suggested that they look for a newer car for Steve too. He’d protested at first, as he didn’t think he needed one but she’d shrugged and simply replied ‘when is anything we buy ever really about what we need?’

As a result, they’d swung into the Porsche showroom on their way back in, and an hour later Steve was the owner of a sleek silver Cayenne in a grey-blue colour, with tan leather interior which would be delivered in about ten weeks, not long before Katie’s was due. He’d fallen in love with the model the moment he had sat inside it. It was fancy, well finished, and felt beyond luxurious. And on the test drive he’d taken whilst Katie fed Harry again, it was fucking fast too, which easily satisfied his inner speed-demon.

“Well that was an expensive morning.” Steve grinned as they sat in the small bistro not far from Jamie’s school, Harry once more asleep in his pram as they both studied the menu.

“We’ve had worse.” Katie smiled and Steve snorted, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, okay the house. I’ll give you that.” She smiled and Steve watched her glance through the menu, her hand brushing her hair back behind her ears as she bit her lip and studied the options for lunch. And there it was again, that look on her face, the one he knew meant something was bothering her. Before he had chance to push her further on it the waiter appeared and they placed their order. Steve opting for a pizza, because well he’d eat that stuff every meal of the day if he could, and Katie went for a chicken Caesar salad stating she fancied a change from her usual choice here of Carbonara. Steve waited until the man had bustled off before he reached over the table and gently took Katie’s hand.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, honestly.” She looked at him, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“You know I can tell when you’re holding back on me. I’ve known you for too long now sweetheart.” She looked down at the table and took a breath, “Steve, I don’t wanna talk about it, not here, not now.”

“Katie…” “Please.” She looked at him, her eyes wide as she shook her head “Don’t.” Steve took a deep breath and sat back, holding his hands up in surrender “Okay, but this is not the end of this conversation.” “Don’t I know it,” she grumbled, giving him a look, “you’re like a dog with a bone when you get going.” “I’ll give you a bone if you want.” He quipped, dropping his voice and leaning over the table. It wasn’t often he made a dirty joke like that in public, but it had the desired effect. Her cheeks flushed and she raised an eyebrow at him, a cheeky grin flitting across her face, whatever worry it was she had forgotten for the moment.

“Steven Grant Rogers.” She sniggered, shaking her head and he shrugged, leaning back in his chair, eyeing her over his beer as he took a sip.

“You don’t want?” He titled his head to the side. “I didn’t say that.” “So you do…”

“Piss off, Steve.” She laughed, making him grin again.

**** ‘Cause I love her with all that I am And my voice shakes along with my hands 'Cause she’s all that I see And she’s all that I need And I’m out of my league once again

“Daddy!” Rori shrieked as Steve walked into the nursery. He smiled as she barrelled towards him and he scooped her up, placing a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey, princess!” He smiled, “You had a good day?” “Yeah we did erm painting and some games and I fallded over but I’m okay.” “She took a tumble when they were outside on the playground.” Sally, one of the nursery assistants advised Steve, passing him an envelope. “It wasn’t anything major, she bumped her knee. She didn’t seem to even notice, or care, but we’re obliged to write it up.” “Thanks.” Steve smiled, taking the report from her and tucking it into his pocket. He wasn’t worried, she was like her brother in that respect. The half of her that was him was her robustness to general knocks and tumbles and germs, thanks to the serum. He placed her down on the floor and told her to collect her things, watching as she headed over to the little peg that contained her small pink backpack and her jacket.

“How’s the little one?” Sally asked and Steve turned to her, smiling.

“He’s great.” Steve beamed. “Such a placid baby, in comparison to the other two anyway, certainly her.” He added with a nod towards Rori. Sally chuckled. “Yeah, a lot of parents say that the youngest ones are often the easiest. I think it’s because as Parents you relax a little more and they feel it. You should tell Mrs Rogers to bring him in one morning, we’ve not met him yet.” “I will.” Steve smiled, nodding as Rori came back. He gently helped her put her jacket on before he stood up, thanked the staff again and led her outside to the car.

“Where’s momma?” Rori asked.

“She’s at home with Harry. We just gotta go pick Jamie up and then we can go home.” “Okay.” she said. She fell silent for a moment before she suddenly chirped up again. “Daddy, my knee hurts.”

Steve glanced down at her sceptically as he opened the car door. “Does it? Or are you just angling for sympathy?” Rori pondered for a moment before she grinned. “Sympathy.”

Steve snorted, she was honest at least. He sat her in her car seat in the back of the car, buckling her in before he pressed a kiss to the knee she was pointing at. “Better?” “Yes, fankoo.” “You’re welcome.” He smiled, shutting the door and heading to the driver’s side to climb in. He drove the few blocks to Jamie’s school, pulling into the pick-up area and nodded to the staff member who was on duty. Jamie waved and Steve had to snort at the state of him. His tie was completely wonky, his jacket was open, shirt untucked… typical seven year old boy. He shot over to the car as Steve climbed out, opening the trunk so he could stick his rucksack in the back before he moved to give his dad a quick hug.

“Had a good day, Son?”

Jamie nodded and climbed into the car, sitting on the booster in the front. Steve clipped him in and then made to head home.

“Guess what me and Momma did today.” Steve looked at Jamie as he pulled out of the school grounds and onto the road.

“What?” “Bought two new cars.” “What did you get?” Jamie grinned

“Well, Momma got a range rover, a red one. And I got a Porsche.” “Cool.” Jamie nodded his approval. “Is momma happier now?”

Steve frowned. “What makes you ask that, buddy?” “When we dropped Rori off before she got upset.”

“Did she say why?” “She told me when we walked back to the car that it was just her feelings from having Harry.” Jamie shrugged.

Steve pondered for a moment, his thumb tapping on the steering wheel before he turned to his son again. “Did she speak to anyone when you dropped Rori off?” “Just Sally.” Jamie shrugged. “There were some other ladies there but Momma didn’t speak to them.”

“Okay, well, don’t worry about it.” Steve nodded to assure the boy. He knew Jamie hated seeing his mother upset. “She’s fine, like she said, just her feelings from Harry.” They drove home, Steve chatting to Jamie and Rori as they went but his mind was still on his wife. He knew now that whatever was bothering her had to be something to do with Rori’s nursery, or something that had happened when she had dropped her off.

And it gave him an angle to approach her with.

In typical fashion, the kids shot into the kitchen and Katie greeted them both with a smile from where she had been stood preparing their dinner. The two of them began instantly gabbling away, both filling her in about their day and Steve leaned on the doorway, watching as his wife talked to both of them, crouching down to look them both in the eyes as they thrust various pieces of paper at her. He loved watching her interact with their children, it was simply something he found astonishing how easy it came to her. Being a mother had highlighted every single trait he found so damned attractive about her even more and it lit a fire in his belly every single time he saw it.  She glanced up at him and he gave her a smile, pushing off the door frame and walking into the room, passing Harry who was still asleep in the basinet in the corner of the room.

“He not woke up?” Steve asked and Katie shook her head.

“We’re gonna suffer for that tonight.” She sighed and Steve chuckled, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

“Jamie,” he turned to his son who’s hand was sneaking up onto the counter next to Katie to grab a piece of cheese she had been grating. Jamie grinned at his dad as he popped into his mouth with a shrug. Steve rolled his eyes, smiling, “go change pal, get out of your uniform.”

“Okay.” he agreed, heading out of the kitchen.

“I change too, daddy?” Rori looked at him.

“You don’t need to.”

“But I want to.” She folded her arms and Steve looked at Katie who gave a snort as they both observed their little Diva.

“What do you want to change into?” Steve asked, picking her up.

“Bumble bear.” “You wanna wear your bear onesie?”

She nodded.

“Alright, come on.”

He held his hand out to her and she took it, the pair of them heading upstairs. Fifteen minutes later, both kids were settled in the den, the pair of them looking at a jigsaw puzzle. Telling Jamie that he was on ‘big brother’ duties, basically an instruction to be careful and keep Rori out of mischief as much as he could, he headed into the kitchen to find Katie now wiping down the counters, a pasta bake in the oven.

“Jamie said you were upset this morning after you left the nursery.” Steve’s arms wrapped around his wife from behind and he felt her still slightly “Come on, Doll, what’s been eating you all day?”

“Nothing, I’m just being stupid.” She shrugged, turning in his arms to look at him.

“Katie,” his voice was stern and he lowered his head slightly, his eyebrows raising as he gave her a look that instructed her to tell the truth.

With a sigh she lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just overheard a few of the moms talking that’s all, I don’t think they realised I was behind them. It’s no big deal.” “What were they saying?” “They just,” Katie took a deep breath, “they made a comment about Rori and how like me she looked, and then one of them said or at least how I used to look anyway.”

Steve frowned, staying silent and waiting for her to finish.

“Then they kinda laughed and said that I’d certainly ‘let myself go’ a little after the latest one,” she raised her hands and framed the offending three words with phrase marks by bending the index and middle fingers on each hand forward twice in symmetry.

Steve fought hard to keep his face straight and not display they anger he was feeling inside. Fuck, he loved this woman, and the thought of anyone saying something so damned cruel it would upset her made him furious.

“They manage to look all neat and tidy for the school run and I,” Katie shook her head, “it’s all I can do to make sure my top is on the right way round.

“Honey,” Steve shook his head, “we have three small kids, all who need breakfast and dressing in the morning, and one of whom is barely six weeks old.” “Yeah I know, and I know I need to give myself time but,” she shrugged, “you know that each time I’ve been pregnant I’ve kept some weight somewhere.” “So?” Steve frowned

“I don’t know, I guess I just miss being the size I was. It doesn’t matter, I told you, I was being stupid.” She shook her head. “I’ll get over it.”

Steve looked at her for a second, his head cocked to one side. Whilst it was true that post Jamie her hips had remained slightly larger as had her chest. And the added curve to her ass hadn’t completely been there before she’d had Rori, but her stomach had returned to being fairly flat post both of their previous kids, even if it wasn’t a washboard of muscle like it had when she was at the peak of her SHIELD or Avenging days. Her waist had remained fairly small and all of this had simply given her a killer hourglass figure he fucking loved, and one that he’d noticed various other men casting approving glances over on more than one occasion.

And yes, now six weeks after giving birth she was still carrying extra baby weight over and above all that but Steve frankly didn’t’ give a shit. She was gorgeous to him, and always would be.

“Well I don’t miss it.” Steve looked at her, his hands falling to her hips as he pulled her closer. “Sweetheart, before Jamie you were tiny, it’s skewing your perception. I could practically connect my hands around your waist.” She looked at him as he continued, to speak, shaking his head. “We’ve both changed, as you told me not long ago.”

“But it looks good on you.”

“Yeah, and having our babies looks good on you, too.” He pressed and she gave a soft smile, looking at him. “Just don’t think on it please, I love you. I always will. You know this.” “I know, sorry, like I said, I was just having an off day and,” she nuzzled into his chest as his strong arms wrapped around her back, “I guess the hormones kinda made it worse.”

“Well I’ll make it better later.” He grinned, leaning down to kiss her.

“Yeah, you finally gonna give me that bone?” She snorted and he laughed.

“Damned right…” he muttered, his lips brushing hers lightly. “My baby momma…” ******

It’s a masterful melody When she calls out my name to me As the world spins around her she laughs, rolls her eyes And I feel like I’m falling but it’s no surprise

Steve’s hands were all over his wife as she sat, straddled over his lap on the sofa. After putting the kids to bed they’d been cuddled up watching a film, and he’d simply been watching her sat there, playing with her hair, biting her thumb, and then his self-control had finally snapped and he had pulled her onto his lap with one aim only.

His mouth trailed soft kisses up her neck to that spot behind her ear as his fingers began gently undoing the buttons on the front of the plaid shirt she was wearing, the shirt that as ever belonged to him. He opened them slowly one by one and Katie moved her head to catch his mouth with hers, her tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. He obliged, opening his mouth, his own tongue dipping into hers with smooth strokes as he gently reached the last button of the shirt and pushed it down over her shoulders, where it dropped to the floor.

His forehead pressed to hers and he looked down at her, giving a soft groan as his hands gripped her hips pulling her down further onto his lap, grinding up against her through his sweats. He was rock hard already, the sight of her sat on front of him was enough to make him lose his mind completely.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, his lips grazing over her collar bone as one of his hands slid up her body, where it gently began to knead at her bra clad breast, softly teasing her nipple beneath the lace. He knew she was tender there, and he couldn’t go to town on them as much as he would like to but that was another thing that fucking turned him on so much. The fact that she was nursing his baby son, knowing that her body was nurturing him was so goddamned fucking amazing it had him low key horny all the time.

“Off…” She mumbled against his lips, hands grabbing at the bottom of his T’shirt and Steve sat forward slightly to allow her to pull it over his head and her hands ran through his hair, down his now bare back and up again, before she gently cupped her face with her hands, the pads of her fingers gently pressing into the whiskers of his beard as she leaned down for another kiss. Steve’s large hands flattened on her back, pulling her closer to him, their chests pressed together, lips locked deeply. Once more Steve titled his hips, causing Katie’s breath to catch in her throat and she pulled away slightly to look at him, Steve’s own breathing hitching slightly at the look of love and adoration his wife had on her face. One he knew he was mirroring completely.

Tilting his hips slightly, he raised them both easily off the sofa, and Katie instantly worked his sweats and boxers down over his slim waist. Without another second of hesitation he moved her panties to one side with one hand as he grasped his achingly hard cock in the other as Katie gently positioned herself before she sank down slowly onto him giving a soft mewl as he filled her, his hands returning to her waist once she had taken him in completely. With a grunt of his own, he held her still for a moment, before he bucked his hips upwards, Katie meeting him as she pushed down, tilting her hips so he was driving up against her spot. They found a rhythm, easily, as always. It was a well-worn dance between the pair of them after so many years together but a dance that Steve would never get tired of. Every single time it felt just as good as the last, and as Katie rolled her hips slightly, moving her forwards an inch Steve’s head fell back against the back cushions on the sofa, his hands cradling her close.

“Feel so fucking good,” he praised, his hips slamming upwards again, her moans of pleasure filling the room as she pushed downwards. He leaned forward, his mouth gently pressing kissing to her sternum and throat and she gave a shudder, rotating her hips urgently as Steve continued to push up and greet her movement for movement.

“Stevie…I’m…” she panted softly, her head falling forwards to catch his mouth and he felt her twitch around him, meaning she was close. His hands snaked into her hair, holding her face still as he kissed her hard, hips snapping forwards. With a soft cry, she stilled slightly, her moans flowing into Steve’s mouth as he felt her fluttering around him as she came and he wasn’t far behind. He pushed up, thrusting through her orgasm before he reached his own, with a groan that bubbled from his chest, his eyes closing in utter bliss as the feeling overwhelmed him. They both sat still for a moment, utterly spent, Steve’s hands skating up his wife’s back as she gave a soft hum of contentment, her head resting against his.

Steve gently pulled back, his hand tilting Katie’s chin up gently so he could kiss her again, soflty, and he smiled against her mouth, before Harry gave a shrill cry from the cradle in the corner of the room, reminding them of something that they had both forgotten during the last blissful fifteen minutes of pure lust and passion. They weren’t just Steve and Katie anymore, they were Momma and Daddy.

And Steve wouldn’t change ANYTHING about that for the world.

*****

'Cause I love her with all that I am And my voice shakes along with my hands 'Cause it’s frightening to be Swimming in this strange sea But I’d rather be here than on land

The next morning they altered their routine slightly. Jamie was dropped at school first and then Steve drove to Nursery to drop Rori off, complete with Harry so the staff could meet him for the first time. Steve kept a careful watch on his wife as she got out of the car, smoothing her hair back slightly as she helped Rori out, the pair of them making their way through the gates and into the building. Steve followed behind, the car seat containing Harry in his hand.

Once inside, Rori bounded off to see her friends and the nursery staff immediately crowded around Harry as Katie smiled and Steve gently placed the seat on the main desk. Katie lifted him out and handed him to Sally who beamed and gently took him in her arms.

“Oh, Mrs Rogers,” she looked at Katie then to Steve, “Sir, he’s beautiful,” she beamed, rocking him slightly as Harry’s hands gently fisted in the air, his eyes focussed on the older woman as she smiled at him.

“Just like his Momma.” Steve’s arm curled round Katie as he pressed a kiss to her head. She nudged him with her elbow as she flushed slightly.

Once the staff had all finished preening over Harry, Katie made sure he was secure in his seat again and they both made their way back outside. Steve clipped the seat back onto the base in the rear of the car and then stood up, glancing over the top of the door at Katie but she wasn’t looking at him. Instead, her eyes were watching something behind him and he turned to see two women as they walked down the sidewalk towards them, both of them leading a child each. Instantly he noticed his wife’s demeanour change as she tugged at the bottom of her top, pulling it away from her body and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who those women were.

Hell, no. Not on his watch.

Ignoring the surge of anger in his stomach he shut the door to the car gently and without a word grabbed his wife and pressed his lips to hers. It took her a moment to respond, he’d surprised her that much, but she smiled against his mouth as he kissed her deeply, his hands sliding down to give her ass a quick squeeze.

“What was that for?” She asked a little breathlessly as he pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Do I need a reason?” He smiled.

“No, suppose not.” She grinned, patting his chest. “Come on, we never had breakfast before and I’m starving.” She moved away from him and Steve opened the passenger door for her to climb in. Shutting it softly he turned and saw the two women looking at him. He raised an eyebrow challengingly, his hands dropping to his buckle.

“Morning.” His voice remained neutral but carried that undertone of a challenge, in the way he always managed when slipping back into Captain mode.

“Err, good morning, Captain…errr… Mr Rogers.” One of them spoke, smiling. “I’m not sure what you go by now.” “Neither am I.” He shrugged simply “Bur Mr Rogers is fine, thanks. Reminds me I’m married. And who doesn’t want to be reminded they’re married to the most beautiful gal on the planet huh?” He smiled broadly. “Even if some people think she looks a little different now from when we first met…”

The smile on both their faces slipped a little and Steve levelled them both with a look, leaving them in no uncertain terms as to what he was saying and had to fight the smirk that was threatening to spread on his face as he could tell instantly that he had embarrassed them, which had completely been his intent. Both women flushed a deep shade of red and they both hastily bid him good-day as they bustled up the path towards the main door.

Steve climbed into the car, and Katie turned to him.

“You’re such a bitch.” she smirked, and he looked at her, not even attempting to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. He was busted, but he didn’t care.

“Well they shouldn’t be trash talking my wife.” He shrugged. Katie shook her head gently before she leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Still going all protective over me, huh Soldier?” “Always.” He nodded as she pressed her lips gently to his again. Smiling, she tucked her hair behind her ears before they both settled down and Steve snapped the car into drive, pulling off into the steady stream of morning traffic.

Yes she’s all that I see And she’s all that I need And I’m out of my league once again

 **original posting**

[burnedbyshoto]

it’s three am and i made the bad decision of looking at a pic of shouto with bed head and all i can think about is that. I have an ochem and a calc exam in 7 hours but take this for manic need and soft uwus for the only man in my life that won’t disappoint me

enjoy this whatever the fuck it is, sorry for formatting and lack of editing and literally everything that can go wrong with this. it’s not my fault.

todoroki shouto x reader

~

the morning rays shine through the window while you lay in bed. the alarm on your desk had been melted long ago when a too tired shouto had accidentally slammed it with a flame burning on his hand and you had been too busy to buy a new one and so you slept in.

warm and content you lay on top of him, his strong arms holding you tightly, keeping you secure and safe against him. the two of you never seemed to let go while sleeping which had genuinely surprised you since you were quite the active sleeper.

the delicate and soft rays of the morning sun warmed against your bare shoulder and you found yourself finally waking up. your eyes fluttered, a deep breath inhaling from your nose when you raise your head from his chest. it looked like he was still asleep.

and with that knowledge a loving grin spread across your face. how you loved when he woke up after you, watching his sleeping face will always make you feel soft, making you fall even more in love with him.

it was without a doubt that shouto’s hair was straight, his hair while shorter than it was in high school still fell flat on his forehead while he and your eyes took in the different curls and flicks that appeared overnight. curls of red and white converged in the middle, the ombré of meeting distinctions making a chaotic and stunning view. how you loved his bed head.

slowly your hand reached out and pushed through his soft hair with your fingers. years ago his hair had been so dry and coarse from his elemental quirk — fire and ice had basically destroyed the softness of his hair — but with time, your action, and proper quirk related shampoo and conditioner his hair was silky and soft. you trailed the curls, stopping only when they interfered with his forehead before pulling away with a warm smile.

your eyes trailed down to his open eyes and you froze.

he was awake.

“why’d you stop?” he asks, his voice husky and deep, his eyes still plagued with sleep. “it felt nice...”

even in this state it seemed that your boyfriend was truly model worthy.

“sorry, princess,” you tease snuggling back into his chest. “i’ll keep going if we can go back to bed.”

there was a quick movement and suddenly your boyfriend was now laying on top of you, your body pressing comfortably into the mattress while your fingers now easily threaded through his messy small curls.

“better?”

“better, I promise, just don’t stop...”

with a sleepy and satisfied chuckle, your fingers played with his curls and his soft breathing tucked your chest until the both of you both fell back asleep. you could always freak about the curls you loved so much one you woke up again.