#I hope he finds some pink lipstick on it tomorrow

[lostinmirkwood]

First kiss since separating from my husband 18 months ago was shotgunning a hit off a weed pen at the concert of the band who wrote my divorce anthem.

[gingerparker]

PULL ON MY THONG

Pairing: College!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: Peter needs a vacation. So, naturally, he goes to Vegas during his summer break. He's thin on cash and finds a job at a water park! The hot girl behind the bikini bar is a great bonus to his biweekly paycheck.

Warning: Fluff, sexual tension, teasing, slight body worship, drinking (both reader and Peter are 21+)

Word Count: 7158

A/N: let's pretend this wasn't a summer writing challenge... life happened HARD for it to be posted now.. but i hope y'all enjoy anyway ajsjjs DISCLAIMER!! i know the hotel i used here doesn't have a water park but i was too lazy to use a real one sooo it's an invented one!

It's too warm as soon as Peter exits the airport. It's a sticky and dry kind of warmth, no wind of any kind can be felt around him. His small luggage feels like it weighs 5 tons more than it did mere seconds ago and he realizes how stupid it is to have worn dark clothes.

Travellers push past him to find a cab of any kind to get out of the intense heat. Families get into larger Ubers and some are crazy enough to be walking out. Peter is not that determined.

He has to shuffle through the crowd to find a free cab, they are being filled much quicker than he would have thought. Thank god for his faster pace.

Inside the car, he's blasted with cool air, the sweat on his forehead seemingly evaporating.

The drive to his hotel is smooth. He chugs the rest of his water bottle minutes into the ride. Queen's weather didn't prepare him for this.

In only a few minutes he's on the strip. Billboards of all kinds flash around the cab. It's day outside yet he feels blinded by the colourful lights. He sees half-naked men posing with tourists for money as well as showgirls doing the same. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long. The sidewalk is full of people; after all, it's tourist season.

A bright pink flamingo catches his eye, his hotel seemingly calling out to him! Come, Peter! There's some air con in me maybe you could go to my bar or even check out my casin-

"Sir!" he's startled by the harsh voice that calls him, the cab driver.

"Yes?"

"We're here? I've taken you to your hotel" he gestures to the building they are parked next to.

"Oh! How much do I owe you?"

-

"Y/N, I need you to do the night shift today! Bebe is stuck in St-George, you know how horrible the construction traffic is" Your boss, Xiomara, pleads over the phone. "And I can't come in I have an appointment with my OB"

"What about Charlize?" you ask.

Your phone is on speaker on your bed and you're already looking through the clean bikinis you have ready.

"I haven't been able to reach her, please please please!" she sounds so desperate that you laugh a little.

"Should I wear the blue holo set or go for the pink and red tie-dye one?" Mars squeals loudly, her voice cracks through the speaker on your phone.

"Tie-dye!! You're a lifesaver Y/N/N, I owe you"

"No worries babes, nothing exciting was happening with me tonight" You'll just have to reschedule your date with your vibrator for another day.

"I'll buy you breakfast on your next opening shift! Wait, that's tomorrow, oh god you're gonna be so tired. I can still try and reach Char-"

"Mars! Don't worry so much, keep it going and the baby will just shoot right out of you" you laugh as you pack your bag for the evening.

"I mean I wouldn't complain. I'm very much over pregnancy" she sighs and you only hum as an answer.

You both say your goodbyes and you're quickly doing a makeup look to match your uniform for the night.

Deep red lipstick, a thick black liner that frames your eyes just the way you like and a light amount of everything else. It heats up like crazy in the small bar so you don't want to be sweating it off in seconds. The finishing touch is some body shimmer, that's for the extra tips.

You live in a resort-like rental near the Vegas Strip. Your university funds top students from other states to live in these apartments. When you'd been accepted and offered to house you; you couldn't turn it down. Leaving New York was easy enough, your parents were always travelling for their jobs and your friends were leaving for other schools so it was an easy decision.

A big bonus was that it was only 10 minutes away by foot from your job in a hotel's adult pool.

You gathered all your things and made your way out.

Tuesday nights are the slowest nights. The restricted pool access you work in usually has a long cue to be let in but currently, there are only 5 people. 7 if you count the obviously underage girls that nervously fiddle with their fake IDS.

You've only made 50$ in tips so far which is pretty disheartening. Did you waste your best body shimmer for this?

After cleaning the bar for the third time in the last 10 minutes you give up pretending to be busy. Maybe you should make yourself a drink... A nice cranberry, vodka and watermelon purée slushy... You could even try the new bubblegum gin you received...

As you're trying to figure out what to mix the new alcohol with you spot a guy. A hot guy to be precise. He looks lost as he enters the area and pockets his wallet. His eyes are wide and they seem to be full of awe. First time in Vegas probably. His abs are what make your eyes follow him. For such a soft face the body he has is a pleasant surprise, muscles that don't look too bulky and that highlight the fact that he probably takes very good care of himself.

He looks like a Long Island ice tea type of guy, who likes alcohol but doesn't like tasting it all that much. You almost want to whistle at him or do anything to catch his eye.

He'd be a better date than your vibrator that's for sure.

-

It's Peter's fifth day in Las Vegas and he just learned about his hotel's private pool. They only let people 21 years old and older in. All he knew was that there was a small water park, and the kids' screaming could be heard throughout the day.

There are more palm trees to cover up this part of the hotel's grounds, giving more privacy to whatever happens here. There's a large DJ booth elevated at the end of the pool and at least 3 different bars. The DJ obviously pressed shuffle on a Spotify playlist and decided to scroll through his phone. The 3 bartenders he sees look bored out of their minds and are seemingly playing a card game. Only about 20 other guests are enjoying the privacy of this section.

He chooses to go buy himself a drink, there's nothing much to do besides that and swim right now.

Right as he's about to go and disturb the guys playing cards he sees a little hut next to the jacuzzi. It's pure white and only has a sign on the front where it's written "Cheeky Chicks" with a bright pink bikini painted on.

His brows furrow before he steps back to look inside.

His eyes widen and his breath hitches. There stands a girl. A half-naked girl. A very very pretty half-naked girl. A girl that's already looking at him. Peter's knees might just give out under him. A smirk forms on your lips when you realised cute hot chiselled guy noticed you. This is going to be so much fun.

"Hi," you say while leaning forward on your bar a little. The guy's face heats up instantly. Red creeps up his chest and onto his face. Peter is incredibly weak for pretty girls.

"Hi," he manages to breathe out.

"Come over here," you say with a wink. No one can tell you that you aren't good at your job.

Peter nods and makes his way over to her. His steps are quicker than he initially wanted, he did want to look cool and nonchalant. Too late now!

"What's your name?" you ask when he reaches your hut.

"Um... I'm not sure" his brain is screaming the answer at him but all he can hear is "her eyes are up there, her eyes are up there, her eyes ar-"

"Mh that's unfortunate, guess I'll have to stick with sexy stranger" your smirk grows when his tongue comes out to lick his lips.

"Right, um, I'm Peter?"

"You sure about that babes?" his eyes get as wide as saucers, nicknames are appreciated... You make a mental note of this.

"Peter Parker," he says "That's my name" he nods to himself. Probably feeling very proud that he's remembered it. God, he's adorable your practically melting.

"Hi Peter Parker, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you hot stuff" You lean back to your normal position, he's been working very hard to keep his eyes in respectful eye contact.

"What can I get you, Pete?"

"Huh?"

"You walked up to my bar, don't you want a drink?" you gesture to all the alcohol you have around you.

"Oh! Um what's your favourite?" he looks at the numerous bottles around you.

"Anything turned into a slush" you answer honestly.

"Ok... Something with cherry?" he suggests with a tilt of his head. You nod and get to work.

If you mix your shaker more than usual who could fault you? It keeps his eyes on you as silence settles over. After adding a cherry and coconut slush to the alcohol mix you top it off with maraschino cherries and a bright pink swirly straw.

You hand it over to him, purposefully making contact with his hand. He takes a big sip and your stare falls to his neck. Thick but lean, muscular and so soft looking. He'd look so good with hickeys littered all over it. You could even trail some down, down, down... just under where his swimming trucks start. God, you really need to get off.

"So what do you think, babes?" you ask him as he brings his straw away from his lips. He nods excitedly as a smile spreads on his face. How can you want him to rearrange your insides and bake him a cake all at once?

"It's delicious! I can't even taste the alcohol you put in here" he nods seemingly approvingly and you smile smugly.

"That's how you know it's a dangerous drink" you wink, turning around to quickly put away the things you used to prepare Peter's drink.

"So how much do I owe you?" he takes his wallet out and opens it up with one hand.

Maybe this is your chance to be bold. Get a date out of this incredibly slow day?

"Mh it'll only cost you your phone number" you shrug with a smirk on your face. Peter sputters on the sip he'd taken and flushes from head to toe. He shakes his head quickly and puts down his cup.

"I have to pay you" he goes through the bills he has in his wallet, instantly paling. He counts them again to then meet your eyes anxiously. "Um, any luck this cost under 6$?" he laughs awkwardly taking out the six 1$ bill he had. You cringe and shake your head. Why must you go for the broke cutie? He sighs and shoves the bills into your tip jar.

"I'm sorry, my aunt always tells me to budget better but this trip has got me much shorter on cash than usual..." Peter puts his wallet away, already knowing it's best if leaves as fast as he can.

"How long are you staying in Vegas for?" your question surprises even yourself. You both expect to have him just walk away and forget this interaction happened... but alas you're incredibly weak.

"I don't know really... I bought a one-way ticket so... I'll probably try and get a ticket to leave at the end of summer" which is currently two and a half months away.

"And you already have no cash left??" you gasp. How is that even possible? "Do you have a job? Or a sugar daddy?" you add in a rushed tone, shocked at his quite reckless planning.

"Think I'd look good in a bikini?" he teases. Joking at a time like this? He might just be your soulmate.

"You'd look amazing in a bikini but this is a woman owed and woman run" You sigh dreamily at the thought of Peter in a bikini. New kink unlocked? Or are you just incredibly horny... "Although... one of the lifeguards at the water park quit! Maybe I could get a good word in for you" You start shutting off the lights in your little hut and locking up the coolers and stands around you.

"Now?" Peter exclaims. You ignore his shock and turn back to him. You spot his unfinished slushy and hand it back to him.

"Drink it at least, I'm not doing charity for you not to enjoy it" you tease him before making your way out, locking the side door and hanging up the "Closed" sign.

"Oh and I'm still expecting your phone number"

-

That's how Peter Parker got himself a job at his hotel's water park. The man running it barely asked him what his name was before he was hired. They made sure that he had the right certification for a lifeguard job and the next day he was on the schedule. Well, they wrote him in with a Sharpie and they spelt his name wrong but he had a job!

The kids were... tolerable, the pay was ok and the conditions were bearable. His favourite part, however, is the hottie that always put extra cherries on his alcoholic slushes.

It's been three weeks now since he was able to pay back the first one, and it's also been three weeks since you've exchanged numbers.

You've been texting back and forth like crazy. Just facts about your days when you aren't working at the same time or you even like to have him pick out your bikini. He gets exceptionally shy and takes forever to answer but, surprisingly, he's got impeccable taste. Peter knows it's because of how attracted to you he is. Getting to know you has only deepened how doomed he is, how quickly his feelings have shifted from plain lust.

"So you haven't fucked yet?" Ned's voice is loud out of his phone speaker and it scares the shit out of Peter. He's on his lunch break and it's his weekly bro date with Ned. They have lately been full of your name.

"No, women and men can be friends. You know this" Peter knows full well that he'd ditch the friendship in a heartbeat for something more. He'll keep this act up tho, more gentlemanly... right?

"Not when they obviously wanna bone Pete... You're telling me not even a steamy make-out session?" Peter is glad they decided not to FaceTime because he knows what face Ned would be making right now and he doesn't want to see it.

"No" He wishes. He wishes so badly. Like it's actually starting to concern him how much he just wants you to sit on his lap, put your hands in his hair, maybe pull a little, definitely call him babes like you alw- See? He's going insane.

"That's sad Petey, get a move on! If Y/N is as hot as you say then you can't waste any time!" Ned's voice is so diplomatic it's weird but comforting.

"Oh. My. God. Babes you talk about me?" your chipper voice almost startles Peter off his seat and onto the suspiciously green floors.

Peter looks at you with a terrified expression on his face, like you've caught him mid-murder. Damn, his Peter Tingle for not warning him of your arrival!

"Is that her? Y/N! PETER WANTS TO FU-"

His phone is thrown across the room at record-breaking speed, destroying it. You barely seem surprised.

The silence that takes over the room gives Peter time to look you over. What you're wearing today has to be lingerie... just enough is left to the imagination and it's hypnotising. The way the slightest movement makes you look, the up and down of your chest as you breathe, how you look walking closer to him. Wait, walking closer??

His eyes snap up to meet yours as you walk over to him.

"Take me out tonight" You lean down to his eye level. The eye contact you hold is intense. So much is communicated through facial expressions. Peter's mind repeats your statement over and over, making sure he actually heard the right thing.

"Where?"

"Anywhere near an Apple Store so we can get you a new phone" you wink.

-

Smoking hot date, check.

Carefully picked out outfit, check.

Cute but comfortable makeup, check.

Get Peter a new phone before the date actually starts, check.

You and Peter are now slowly making your way down the Vegas Strip. With the ending goal in mind to find someplace interesting to eat. You walked past many many different restaurants but nothing that made you stop walking.

Peter's hand holds yours loosely, the hot weather unsuitable for real hand-holding. He's wearing a light pink shirt with flamingos and flowers patterned around it, obviously, he hadn't packed a "date shirt" before leaving New York and bought it at his hotel. His legs are barely hidden away by his short jeans short that have numerous rips in them... God you want to bite his thighs.

"You're staring at my legs again" You can hear him smirking through the tone of his voice.

"Oh shut up!" you knock your shoulder onto his arm with a laugh.

"It's fine this most likely compensates for the number of times I've at your boobs... or your ass... or anything really when you have a bikini on" he gestures with his free hand to you. Most likely visualising a bikini on you now.

"Mh, that's true... I'll keep staring then!" you smile proudly winking at him. His face and neck flush pink as he ducks his head. He's so fun to tease always so responsive.

Conversation is easy. It always is. Your personalities mesh together perfectly which makes hanging out with him so fun.

This being more officially a date has put weight on both of your shoulders. Somehow, it's made a sliver of anxiety surround the both of you. It must mean you both want this date to go well; to have many more after.

"Oh! How about hot dogs?" Peter points to a small restaurant to his left.

"Those are probably, like funky hot dogs... I'm down, let's go!" you tug him towards Haute Doggery.

You're both greeted by a woman behind the counter when you walk in. The place is small, with four two-person tables and a high counter along one of the only bare walls. That said it's cosy and inviting so you're immediately excited.

"Wow! A foot-long hog dog??" Peter gasps as he reads the menu. You giggle at his reaction now reading the menu yourself. So many options to choose from... "Want to share two regular-sized speciality ones?"

"Only if we get fries" you nod seriously, now choosing a hot dog to share with him.

"I definitely want to try the mac and cheese one" Peter looks away from the menu to meet your eyes.

"Good choice! I saw we get that one and the breakfast one, I can never say no to hash browns"

Once you receive your order you make your way to one of the tables, ready to absolutely dig in. Peter takes the time to precisely cut in half both hot dogs and gives you your pieces.

"Cheers!" you say knocking your half with his before taking a generous bite of the breakfast delight.

-

"So this is my room!" Peter shuffles inside his hotel room before holding the door open for you.

The room is nothing crazy. One queen bed in. the middle, a dresser with a tv on top of it, grey carpet flooring, pinkish walls, a bathroom and a balcony overlooking the pools and the waterpark.

You make your way over to his freshly made bed: thank you housekeeping. You sit down on it beckoning Peter over to you. He toes off his shoes in a hurry before practically lunging at the spot next to you. Cute.

"Had fun, cutie?" you look at him with seductive eyes and a warm smile. You want him to be putty in your hands.

Peter reacts immediately to the name you call him, blushing and wide-eyed.

"Yeah, you're easy to talk to and really sex- I mean smart. Really smart." his words seem to be tumbling out of his mouth in a panic.

"Babes, calm down!! You can compliment me. Physically too" you smack his chest feeling the firm muscle of his peck.

He only nods as an answer but keeps his eyes locked with yours. You're the one to break the eye contact to glance at his lips. You want to kiss him so bad...

"Can I kiss you?" Peter might be a mind reader.

"Please" is what you answer.

Kissing Peter is immediately addicting. He's so enthusiastic, kisses like his life depends on it. His left hand goes to your back and his right cradles your jaw. Your own move around his body. Gripping his muscles, tangling in his hair, slipping under his shirt. You're having a great time exploring his body.

You bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging it towards you and it makes Peter moan in delight.

"You're so hot, I'm going insane" he mumbles between desperate kisses.

You only hum in answer wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down above you. His body is so warm against yours like he's on fire. You tug off his shirt, to help him cool down is what you tell yourself.

"I know I see you without a shirt more than with one but this is so much sexier" you trail your fingers all. over. him.

Peter turns you onto your side to unzip your romper. His lips never leave yours, the contact staying feverish and fast. It's like he wants to eat you whole. Maybe he does, you'd let him.

The shrill sound of your ringtone startles you, causing you to knock your chin into Peter's nose as you look up.

He groans as you reach to silence the (incredibly rude) device. Unfortunately, your index has other plans and presses the accept call button.

"Y/N?" Xiomara... This can only mean bad news.

"I know you're on a date and I'm so incredibly sorry to be doing this. I just went into labour and you're literally in the hotel somewhere..." Her voice is strained and you breathe out in exasperation.

Peter's head drops into the crook of your neck. His hands don't start roaming, they travel, map your body out. Every single inch of skin he can reach. Inside the romper, your face, legs, arms... Anything and everything.

"I... I don't have a bikini" you manage to say.

"I really don't care what you wear. Actually, you know what I don't care about the bar right now never mind" She hangs up immediately.

"Thank fuck for that" Peter exclaims dragging the rest of your romper off.

You laugh as he readily gets back to what he was doing. His lips on yours, guided your hands into his hair and hips bucking into yours.

Yeah, this is so much better than taking over "Cheeky Chicks" for the evening.

[valscigarette]

Summary: Vox takes Angel on a "dry-run" of a date he has planned for Valentino. (Angel's POV on Staticmoth)

Tags: Vox/Valentino, background Angel/Valentino, Canon-Typical Everything, Angst, Mutually Destructive Vox/Val, Threats of Violence

See AO3 or DM me for more detailed tags/warnings!

WC: 3.6k | AO3

-

“Be good to him, Voxxy,” Val warns playfully, smacking a wet kiss to the corner of Vox’s screen and leaving a tinted smear that could be lipstick or drool. “We have a long shoot tomorrow, and if you make a mess-”

“Oh, please,” Vox huffs.

Despite this being his idea, his plan, his request, he seems utterly uninterested in Angel’s presence. From the cabin of the limousine, Angel watches his and Valentino’s back and forth, desperate for some clue as to what the evening has in store for him. Most johns are simple. They know what they want, and Angel knows how to give it to them, and Val usually steps in before they damage the merchandise too badly. Vox, on the other hand, has never asked for Angel’s time so much as inflicted himself on it when Val’s feeling particularly cruel.

“Since when do you give a fuck, anyway?”

Vox leans against the side of the limo, a sign that their conversation will last long enough for Angel to light a smoke. He taps one from the pack in his clutch, pink-filtered with an extra dose of Valentino’s venom, and holds it out toward Vox for a dismissive, static arc of a light. They’re not oblivious to his presence- just ignoring him, like he’s no more alive than the velvet cushion beneath his ass.

A chuckle, low and dangerous, spills from Valentino’s lips with a plume of opaque smoke Vox has to physically wave from the air between them. “Since you decided that my toys are more fun than me,” Val answers, torn somewhere between deadly anger and catty mockery. Angel stutters on his exhale. Even when Val is blurry, separated by the tinted windows of the car and half-obscured from Vox’s frame, the sound of his temper is enough for Angel’s lungs to seize.

“Come on,” Vox groans. He pushes off the side of the car to crowd Val’s space while Angel recenters himself, hoping to finish his smoke before Vox is ready to leave. “It was one mistake, baby. And honestly, how many whores do you fuck a week? A day? How is this different?”

This gets Angel’s attention enough to subtly shift in his seat, scooting toward the open door to better hear the argument Vox has definitely started. Neither of them like to back down, but both love the heat of a fight and to take it out on their subordinates. It’s a sick cycle Angel somehow found himself in the middle of.

“It’s my fucking job, that happens to make you a shit-load of money. You don’t see me taking your assistant—what's his name, the slimy one with that sexy little fin—to bed in the middle of your workday!”

The assistant in question could be one of several, though Angel noticed Vox replacing the whole set of them over the course of the month. He wonders if it has to do with Val, but quickly dismisses the thought; Valentino will fuck anything that moves, or anything that doesn’t so long as he can find a hole to stick his cock in, and there’s simply no one Vox could hire that Val wouldn’t want to fuck. Yeah, he has his favorites. Angel’s one of them. But Angel knows Val isn’t loyal to anyone, and he’s certain Vox is equally aware.

“Is that what this is about?” Vox asks. “They’re- that’s what you keep them for, Val, don’t be ridiculous. I know for a fact you fucked that one twice, the same day I did, and it wasn’t even in front of a studio camera!”

“Her performance needed work,” Val sniffs, then blows a heart-shaped smoke ring into Vox’s screen petulantly. “Forgive me if I don’t appreciate all the time you have for my performers, amor.” Vox mutters something, only to glance back at Angel through the window as if to commiserate when Val barrels over him. “You just don’t seem to have any left for me.” His pleading lilt is almost convincing as his lower set of hands curl into fists at his side.

Angel inhales from his cigarette until his eyes cross and his lungs burn. Although Val likes him fine high, in too much of a stupor to raise a hand let alone fight back, Vox prefers his partners sharp enough to scream, and this tainted smoke is likely the only reprieve he’ll get until Vox dumps what’s left of him in front of Valentino’s door tomorrow morning. He holds his breath. 

Vox reaches out, insisting, “That’s not true,” as the light from his screen flashes across Val’s eyes.

“Fuck you.”

When Val slaps Vox, his head slams into the car window with a thunk that spiderwebs a crack over the glass and dents the corner of Vox’s screen. 

“I don’t even care,” Val adds. “Have fun with fucking Angel Dust. Don’t break him.”

As Valentino swaggers away, not even bothering to say goodbye to Angel, Vox sighs and takes a minute to compose himself. Through the broken tinted glass and a wispy cloud of smoke, Angel watches him straighten his tie, button his jacket, adjust his hat, and flicker through a few settings on his screen to ensure Val hasn’t actually damaged it. By the time he slides into limo, Angel is ready to toss his butt out the window and put on a show. For all that Valentino doesn’t care, he made sure Angel knew to be on his best behavior tonight for Vox. 

The limo pulls away the second Vox shuts the door, but it takes a bit longer for him to acknowledge Angel for the first time all night. “Val pick the dress?” he asks, staring out the window as the city passes them by. 

“Why? Do you like it?”

It was Val’s choice, a silky red number that matches both Vox’s usual suit and the gloves on all four of his arms. The skirt is wide and flowy, unlike the usual form-fitting dresses he wears, and his patent red heels are so short he may as well have gone without. His outfit has been meticulously crafted as an homage to the glitzy fifties nostalgia Vox can’t seem to let go of.

“It looks lovely,” Vox replies, glancing over at the hem of the skirt with such interest that Angel has to tug it up higher on his thighs. “Not your usual style, but it’s better than those slutty costumes he always puts you in.”

Unsure whether it would please or irritate Vox to know Val chose this one, too, Angel doesn’t clarify either way. Instead, he keeps a careful eye on every minute movement Vox makes, desperate to prepare himself for the evening ahead. From the scenery passing out the windows, he can tell they’re on their way out of the city, but that alone isn’t necessarily indicative of anything. Vox doesn’t care who hears them. “Thanks, Mr. Vox,” Angel offers, the safest bet available. He may not know Vox inside and out like he does Valentino, but he’d be stupid not to have picked up on what pleases and pisses him off the most. Demure, grateful, and appropriate are the key words Val gave Angel years ago, and they’re still a good rule of thumb despite how much has changed.

“Can’t see him wearing anything like it though,” Vox says. He pinches the hem of Angel’s skirt between two clawed fingers, barely careful enough to avoid tearing the thin fabric, and scoffs. “It’s cute, I like it, but it’s- he wouldn’t be caught dead in this.”

Angel makes an appropriately sympathetic noise and leans into Vox’s side, mindful not to bump into his sensitive screen when he’s not been given permission. “His loss. Not only would it look great, but you know, you deserve something every now and then, too, baby.” When Vox gets what he wants, he’s happy, and when he’s happy, he doesn’t occupy his free time testing the limits of sinner regeneration. 

“You get it,” agrees Vox, finally wrapping an arm around Angel’s shoulders and tugging him close. Hot-and-cold is Val’s game, and so the affection soothes Angel’s racing heart to a tolerable tremolo, and the way he relaxes into Vox’s touch is entirely genuine. “You’re smarter than Val gives you credit for, Angel.” As he talks, Vox traces shapes over Angel’s bare shoulder in the perfect accompaniment to his affectedly saccharine tone. “Satan, sometimes I wonder.”

The territory gets more familiar with each passing quip. “Hey, Val doesn’t mind sharing. He’s into it. You know that.” Angel leans forward for a kiss before he remembers that Vox is no particular fan, but electric teal claws seize his jaw to keep him from pulling away by the time he realizes his mistake. “Sorry,” he mutters instinctively. “I- I didn’t mean-”

“Oh, relax.” Vox shakes Angel’s head gently with the grip on his face. “He usually doesn’t care--fucking better not, with how busy he gets--and if I wanted you, sweetheart, I’d have you by now.” He chuckles. “As if you’d be worth the effort.” Though it’s far from the cruelest thing Vox has ever said, something about the fondness laced through his voice is worse than outright anger, and Angel struggles to blink back a reaction. “I mean if you weren't his favorite whore,” he continues, releasing Angel's face, “you’d be working for Voxtek.”

Reasonably convinced it’s a compliment, Angel thanks Vox again and tries not to cringe away from him. “Yeah, well, I don’t foresee Val letting me out of filming any time soon.” He pointedly avoids thinking about the implications: his afterlife, infinite in its duration, will be spent at Valentino’s whims, and every time Angel thinks it no longer bothers him, the reminder stings behind his eyes. “‘Specially not when he’s mad at you.”

“He’s always throwing a tantrum about something.” The limo slows as they turn onto a sidestreet along the outskirts of Pentagram City, the neon signs and patchy streetlights fading behind them. Vox picks a sliver of plastic from the scrape on his screen and says, “You know, I made him. He was just another whore, selling backroom tapes before I got involved. He’d still be turning out tricks if it weren’t for me.” 

Whether Vox forgets Angel has been around longer than him, or he simply doesn’t care, it’s impossible to tell, but Angel remembers the days before Vox well enough to know how well Val did for himself on his own. He doesn’t have do the dirty work himself anymore. Of course, the studio still re-releases his old pornos a couple times a year as a publicity stunt, because Val won’t let anyone forget his allure. These two don’t need each other at all. 

“He ever tell you, I built Vee Tower for him?” Vox carries on, nonplussed by the lack of response. “He just had to have a penthouse suite, taller than anyone else’s, and I gave it to him. Me. I’ve done everything for him, and for what? To share his attention with every down-on-their-luck sex doll he sees?” He throws Angel a sidelong glance. “Some offense intended.”

“It’s okay, I know where I stand.”

At last their ride ends. The driver scurries to open Vox’s door for him, and upon climbing out, Vox offers his hand to Angel for support. Angel only hesitates a second before he takes it. He finds Vox’s palm cool and unforgiving, his claws a faint threat where they rest against Angel’s hand, but the touch is uncharacteristically gentle as Angel fluffs his skirt back out. Once they’re a couple steps away, the limousine speeds off, and he suddenly realizes he’s alone on a deserted road with Vox, whose face serves as the only light in the absence of the car headlights. 

“Uh, Mr. Vox, can I ask you something?” He asks, leaning into Vox’s support as they take slow steps further along the road.

Vox walks like he knows the path well, veering from the craggy asphalt to the soft dirt alongside a guardrail. Glancing past him, Angel can make out the glow of the city hundreds of feet below, and realizes they’re on one of the mountains that border it. “If you must,” Vox tells him. The hand not intertwined with Angel’s casts a spark to light gas lamps spaced along the railing.

“What are we doing up here? Not that I’m questioning you, but throwing me over a cliff is a new one, and if you don’t like the dress-” Angel cuts off when Vox squeezes his hand hard enough to hurt. 

“I took Valentino here for our first date, and for some of the bigger anniversaries,” Vox says. The cut path broadens to include an outlook, which has been furnished with a set dinner table and two comfortable chairs, each slightly angled to be close to one another and enjoy the admittedly breathtaking view. Vee Tower is visible from here, the tallest building in the city, and Angel imagines Valentino brooding on the balcony as he waits for Angel to come back and give him every detail of the encounter. Vox guides Angel to one of the chairs, pulling it out for him and pushing him into the table once he’s seated. He tells Angel, “I haven’t been up here in years, so I needed to make sure it’s exactly as I remembered.”

“It’s very romantic,” Angel agrees. “I can see why you guys like it.”

Vox lifts the silver dome covers off their plates, which releases a plume of fragrant steam as it reveals their classic steak dinner, exactly like the place up the block from the tower serves. “We used to,” he says, and he almost sounds wistful. He picks up his fork, then pauses, lights the candle on the table with a spark, and spears a couple of green beans. “I need to do a dry run.”

“Right.” Angel reaches for the bottle of wine, corkscrew placed but unopened, and holds it out to Vox. “Might wanna open this first. And, you know, warn him that you’re taking him to dinner, not his grave.”

“Maybe stewing on his choices will do him some good.” Vox uncorks the bottle with ease, filling Angel’s glass before his own, and his demeanor suddenly clicks. Angel’s here as a proxy for Valentino. For now, that’s a benefit rather than a detriment, and he might catch a glimpse of whatever Val saw in Vox to begin with. “Are you warm enough?”

The chilly breeze is nothing in comparison to the heat generated by Angel’s pounding heart. “Sure. I wouldn’t worry about Val, either, he runs hot.” When he takes a bite of steak, Angel lets out a pleased sound that has Vox’s attention snapping away from the meal and back to him, as though surprised he’s enjoying the exquisite food provided to him. “What?” Angel manages. “I got something on my face?” He reaches for the white cloth napkin to dab around his mouth, but only sticky pink lipgloss comes away with the fabric. 

“Just wondering what he sees in you,” Vox says, voice performatively flat, before he pulls out his cellphone. “I better get some dancers out here, or something. He likes dinner and a show.”

“Oh, ‘cause that won’t bother you at all, Mr. Possessive?” If Angel’s stepping over the line, Vox gives no indication. “And how’s that special? He can go to every club in the city at the drop of a hat. Val doesn’t need your help finding strippers.”

A frown twitches across Vox’s mouth. “I suppose I would be pulling them from the studio payroll.” He slips out of his chair to pace in front of the table, the neon colors of his face slicing a visible beam through the night, brighter than the candle and closer than the city. If it were Val, Angel would already be on his knees to console him, but with Vox, he can’t bring himself to move an inch. “What the fuck does he want from me?” 

A garbled laugh crackles through his speakers and Angel wonders idly whether his phone would get any reception out here. 

“I give him everything he wants. The best booze money can buy.” Vox snatches the wine off the table and hurls it over the side of the mountain, where it disappears to a fate so far below, they never hear it shatter. “As many drugs as the lab can develop. Whatever clothes Velvette can dream up.” He snags a strap of Angel’s dress in one claw, sneering at the delicate fabric. “Eight different fucking engagement rings.” Under the whisper of candlelight, Angel can barely make out the plain golden band on Vox’s left hand- not his color, but Val’s, which is all that matters. “I don’t get it.” Vox draws himself up to his full height, which is shorter than Angel when they’re both standing, but towers over him when Angel is pressed as deep into his chair as the unforgiving wood will allow. “What the fuck,” he growls, letting each syllable grate on Angel’s ears, “is so special about you?”

Angel swallows. He can’t flinch. Fear is like blood in the water, and Vox is a precision-designed predator who will pounce the second he smells it. “Nothing you want, Mr. Vox, I promise.”

His chuckle vibrates in Angel’s chest. “What, going face-down, ass-up at the snap of his fingers?”

“No, well yes, but-” The scent of coolant and expensive cologne that surrounds Vox clouds Angel’s mind as easily as his hypnotic eye. “Val’s not a sentimental guy, alright?” Angel hedges. “He doesn’t appreciate the tradition of coming here over and over. He likes novelty.” 

Vox releases Angel’s clothes to curl his fingers around his neck instead, grip barely tight enough to restrict his breathing. “And why is it you think I don’t want to have new experiences with him?”

“It’s not that, I promise.” Angel can’t focus his eyes, but he wrangles his tongue around the words like he’s begging for his life. “I can’t say no to him. The shit you don’t wanna do, aren’t willing to try, he does with me.” He knows because Valentino constantly runs his mouth. “My thing with Val- it’s not like what you guys have.”

“I know that,” Vox snaps.

His teeth seem real and three dimensional, as if they could bite Angel in half. In the recesses of his memory he thinks he’s felt them before. No one except Val would even notice Angel was missing, if Vox decided to rip him to shreds and leave him here, alone, to piece himself back together. 

“He’s not bored of you, baby,” Angel pleads, desperate to soften Vox’s temper, “just the routine. There’s gotta be somewhere in the city you ain’t gone yet, right?”

When Vox drops his hand, Angel gasps in a deep breath, mindlessly fixing his askew neckline so he doesn’t have to think about whether there will be bruises under his fur tomorrow. Val would be mad at both of them for it, printing his own handprints over Vox’s and spitting degradations for allowing himself to be used in such a manner, despite his own orders not to give Vox any trouble. 

“If you’re fucking with me, I’ll make Val’s worst moods look like a walk in the park,” Vox threatens. His phone emerges from his pocket again, blue-tipped fingers dancing across the screen in what Angel assumes is an effort to secure a reservation somewhere new.

“Understood.”

Evidently over his outburst, Vox flops back down in his chair and says, “My driver will be back in ten minutes.”

Angel tentatively picks his fork up and, when Vox doesn’t react, wolfs down the rest of the dinner provided before the limo’s headlights eek up the road once more. He figures he likes Vox best distracted. Like Val, his attention can only be positive for so long before his mercurial mood changes. At least his worst injury is the lingering ache in his throat, and not the mess Vox leaves when permitted to express his pent up rage on Angel’s body.

As when they arrived, the driver opens the door for them, and Vox offers Angel a polite hand into the car and doesn’t release him until he’s settled into the comfortable seats. In the wash of light, his screen brightens, making Angel realize how much it had dimmed to avoid becoming a beacon on the lonesome cliffside. 

“Since I gave you good advice, would you do something for me, Mr. Vox?” Angel asks.

He knows he’s pushing his luck even before Vox’s condescending laugh. “You’re asking me a favor?”

“Forget it, I shouldn’t’ve asked-”

“No,” Vox chuckles, “go on.” His eye begins to spin and his voice drops. “Tell me.”

The words tumble out as if Vox plucked them from his brain: “Can you please mention to Val that I was good for you?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Vox sighs, reclining into his seat. “I wouldn’t if you paid me.”

On that note, Vox doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive back to the tower. At some point Angel gives up on sitting modestly, like Val told him to, and draws his knees up in front of him to wrap both sets of arms around. If he’s lucky, Vox and Val will make up sooner rather than later, and he can go a few more months without being used as a pawn for the game they play, but he’s not so naive as to expect a significant reprieve from either of them. He’d be more likely to find a way to Heaven. 

[myonedream]

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

“With Love, Jun”

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

✦ ⋆DNI Minors & Ageless Blogs⋆ ✦

A/N ~ Firstly, I just wanna say I love this man so much it’s insane. Secondly, god this was stressful, I worked on it for, a collective of probably 12 hours or more, idk. Which, is kinda embarrassing ngl. Anyway regardless, I put my whole pussy into this from yesterday into today to get it out in time for you guys (luckily had three paragraphs and the picture already done) so I really hope you all like it! There are some lines that truly make my head spin on god as I’m honestly really proud of this! Also I deeply believe y/n is gonna get a noise complaint someday if they haven’t already. Furthermore, it’s around 6k words if anyone’s wondering!

CW ~ Fluff & Smut! Idol Bf!Yeonjun x afab!reader (they/them pronouns are used & they’re not specified to be a girl but are feminine), Soft Dom!Yeonjun (man is so gentle & sweet), creampie (reader is on the pill but use protection or else!), praise, light dirty talk (gotta have it), use of names such as Baby, Love, Naughty Little Thing was used once along with Good Little Slut, corruption, fingering, squirting, bondage of the hands & feet, use of a collar & leash, y/n cries tears of pleasure, cum eating & spit. If I missed something, let me know!

~⋆ ✦ ⋆~Smut Under Cut!~⋆ ✦ ⋆~

You’ve been with your bf, Yeonjun, for almost a year now, you genuinely can’t express how happy you are with him. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend: sweet, caring, romantic, fun, funny and of course, hot as hell. Just the way he looks at you makes your heart beat out of it’s chest. His soft, plump lips making your head spin whenever they meet yours. His toned arms making you feel safe whenever he wraps them around you. You love him more than anything and he’s absolutely obsessed with you in the cutest way. So of course you have many things planned for your first Valentine’s Day together. You think he only plans to cook dinner at your place as it’s just easier to do it there than at the dorm but later find out that’s not entirely the case.

And here you are, sitting in your apartment on the living room floor, the night before the day of love, getting together your big basket of goodies for your boyfriend. Writing out gushes of love on a handmade card and putting on his favorite lipstick to kiss it all over, only to then spray your perfume on it as well. It may be a cliché but it’s something you’ve always wanted to do and as he is your first real boyfriend, obviously you have to do it for him. You finish it and put it into the basket along with his favorite candy, a brand new bottle of cologne, a photo album of all the polaroids you’ve taken since you’ve been together, a heart shaped picture frame you decorated with a photo of the two of you inside it and a fox plush you dressed up like him.

You know you don’t have to do all this, he tells you all the time you don’t have to give him any gifts as being yours is plenty enough for him, but you can’t just not. You’ve always loved giving gifts, especially meaningful ones, so you always go all out for him anyway which he loves regardless. With the final pink ribbon wrapped atop the handle, you pick up the basket, walking over to the kitchen to set it down on the counter. Briefly you look over at the clock on the stove to see Valentine’s Day is already here. You’ve been so focused on making his gift that night you didn’t even realize how late it was. “Shit, I better get some sleep if I want tomorrow to be as good as I’ve hyped it up to be” you express to yourself. With that you collect your things scattered around the living room to place them back where they all belong. Having rushed around the house for the past 20 minutes you finally have it all cleaned up and so you turn off all the lights, heading to your room in the pajamas you already put on hours ago. You come in and get situated in bed, setting an alarm on your phone before putting it on your nightstand and cuddling into your covers, falling asleep.

The loud sound of your favorite punk song rattles through your apartment, jolting you out of bed instantly as you reach to turn it off. The sun peaks through your bedroom curtains coating your room in golden light. It’s currently 9am and Jun plans to come over at around 4, after dance practice, to start cooking so you know you have adequate time to add the decorations around the place and make yourself extra beautiful for him. Regardless you waste no time, getting up sleepily and shuffling into the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee to help kickstart your day. You drink it quickly as you open the cupboards for all the decorations, large rolls of dark pink and red silk ribbon, cherry red lace bows, fresh pink and red rose petals, heart shaped confetti, pink and red light bulbs, multiple containers of biodegradable glitter, etc. Pulling them all out and laying them out in front of you on the counter.

Putting on your love song playlist, you bring out the step ladder. You have a lot of work ahead of you so you begin with the silk ribbon, wrapping it around the doorways and across the ceiling from one corner of the room to the next, lining every room in your 1 bedroom apartment at the top in dark pink and red. In the middle of the front doorway you place one of your biggest bows, sewing on matching red petals onto it to add a special touch. Using the rest of the bows across the house throughout the ribbons and on the bedposts. Then you go around replacing the light bulbs in your apartment, making some pink and some red. You do this everywhere besides in your bathroom so you have good lighting to get ready in and besides a few lights in the kitchen so he has proper lighting to cook in. You’re then sprinkling the confetti, glitter and rose petals into pathways going from one room to the next. Swiftly you bring out two heart light projectors and place one in the living room and the other in your bedroom. Whilst in there you change your sheets to your new silk red ones and place pink heart pillows on top along with a fluffy pink blanket draped across the bottom on the bed. Whilst in there you take white roses and place them around the pillows on the bed. For the rest of the pillows you have, you stick them on your couch. Now you’re placing vases of white, red and pink roses all around the house. Finally you get to the finishing touch of putting up your lace pink and white curtains in your bedroom and living room you dyed specially for this occasion, placing the old ones into the hallway closet.

After all this running around, it’s 2pm already and you sit down on your couch for a second, taking a moment to check your phone to see messages from Yeonjun you didn’t hear the ringtone for over the music. Opening the messages you read:

“Sorry baby, I’m gonna be a little later than expected. Probably will be around your place at 6 instead. I’m so sorry, don’t worry I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you 💕”

Just seeing that message made your heart sink since you know you won’t have as much time as you wished to have with him. Though seeing him type ‘I love you’ made your heart flutter every time as if it was the first. With a melancholy feeling you respond with:

“Don’t worry about it Junie, I know you can’t help it. I’ll still be here regardless. I love you too ❤️”

With that you close your phone, placing it face down on the couch and turn off the music. You can sense you’ll need the extra time so you head to the bathroom to begin getting ready.

You heat up the shower as you remove your clothes before getting in and scrubbing off all the sweat and glitter of the earlier antics. Exiting after 45 minutes of cleaning and shaving every inch of your body, just in case, since you’re not entirely sure what the night might have in store for the two of you. The whole bathroom steamed up extremely so you open up the door to defog, walking out in your robe and into your room. You then enter your closet to pick up a beautiful, shiny white, square neckline dress that flares out in layers of soft ruffles at your waist. The straps just thick enough to look proper with the structured bodice, dress resting a few inches above your knee. Simple but cute. With that in hand, you head over to your shoes and pick up a pair of white suede, chunky, square tipped heels with a ribbon strap. Additionally you pull your accessories out that consist of a white ribbon choker, a pair of silver dangling heart earrings and four pieces of white ribbon for your hair. Before leaving the closet you grab a white lace pair of panties from your dresser drawer. Hurriedly you rush into your room and rest most of all of it on the bed. The only thing not being the ribbons for your hair, still held in your hand.

You go over to your vanity, resting the ribbons atop it and turning on the lights that surround the mirror. Sitting down, you begin working on your hair, which you dyed cherry red specifically for this occasion, curling it in the perfect tightness to wrap into two buns on either side of your head, using one ribbon wrapped around the bottom of each. Both tied with a neat bow. You take the remaining two ribbons and braid one into each thin braid resting off the side of your face, after your tendrils, tying them off with smaller bows. Now styling your soft bangs into an upside down heart shape delicately onto your forehead. You look into the mirror and almost laugh, you think to yourself: “Wow I look like cupid threw up on me.” But still continue in suppressed giggles.

After getting up temporarily to do your skincare routine and brush your teeth you head back into your room to sit down at the vanity once more to start your makeup. Applying your foundation and concealer softly, setting it with powder, bronzing around your face, and making your eyebrows fluffy, full and red to match your new hair. You then blush your cheeks, under your eyes and onto the tip of your nose. Now shifting focus to work on your eyeshadow, brushing on a soft, sheer pinkish red shade all over your lid, into your crease and under your eyes. Taking a pink, heart shaped glitter with your fingers, you press it into the center of your lid and apply eyegloss on top of the glitter and shadow. You also tightline your upper waterline with a matte hot pink eye pencil, putting the same into your lower waterline, dragging it out onto your outer corners slightly. With a shimmering light pink, almost white, highlighter you sweep over your brow bone, high points of your cheeks, down your nose bridge, on the tip of your nose and onto your cupid’s bow. Taking your mascara you apply it on your top and bottom lashes, adding half false lashes onto the outer corners to flare them out. Eventually you get to your lipstick, applying a sheer pink balm on first and then a pretty red in the center in a near heart shape, blending it out softly to give an ombré effect. With one final step, you spray your face with a dewy setting spray with a fine glitter sheen to make yourself shiny.

With your makeup done you clean up your vanity and go into the bathroom once again to wash the makeup off your hands and freshly done white nails. You take off your robe as you re-enter your room, then applying deodorant and spraying a fine glitter mist all over your body. Putting on your underwear and zipping yourself into your dress to then sit down on the bed so you can put on and tie the ribbon of your shoes into a bow around the back of your ankle. Getting up you lean over your vanity, tying your choker on and putting in your earrings. Then picking up your favorite, light floral and amber scented perfume and spraying it on your neck, behind your ears and onto your wrists, rubbing them together. Resting it back onto the vanity where it belongs and turning off the vanity lights.

Finally you’re done as you walk into your living room and pick up your phone you left on the couch. Turning it on you reveal the time is 5:45 and you have another missed message from Yeonjun. You open it up to read:

“On my way, love 💗”

Which he sent only a few minutes ago and you respond with:

“Okay, baby 🫶🏻”

Now heading into the kitchen, you place your phone atop the counter to then pull out two wine glasses and rosé. Filling up both and sitting down at your island, scrolling through social media and patiently waiting for your boyfriend to arrive.

With what felt like an eternity, you finally hear a knock at your door, making your face light up and blush instantly with nerves. You put down your phone and adjust yourself slightly before walking over to the door to open it to your smiling boyfriend holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers, a pink gift box wrapped neatly in a bow and a giant bag of ingredients. Almost instantly his face blushes at the sight of you and he goes “Holy shit y/n, you look incredible. You dyed your hair red?!” You giggle and answer with “Yeah, I did it specially for tonight, y’know to fit the theme” as you let him in. “Well I love it, it looks great” he expresses as he walks in and you close the door behind him, taking the heavy bag of ingredients from him and setting them on the counter. The man is turned away from you, looking at all the decorations, in a soft voice you hear him ask “You did all this for me?” “Well yeah, I love you” you chuckle. Instantly he turns around to look at you, walking over to put down the flowers and present box. He then approaches you, his eyes full of love as he cups your face in his hands and leans in so close you can smell his cologne, to kiss you softly with his plush lips. “I love you too, baby” he says in a whisper after removing his lips from yours, leaving a soft pink tint on them from your lipstick. You feel your heart flutter and trying to keep your composure you stare into his eyes and tease “Nice lipstick, Jun.” He lets out a soft laugh and is quick to say “Hey, boys gotta look pretty too!” before wiping it off.

“But I will never look as good as you,” he claims, “I really didn’t have enough time to get ready so pardon my appearance.” You look at him, once again, understating how beautiful he is in a pink silk dress shirt, fitted black dress pants, black platform shoes and his black hair parted just perfectly. “Pardon what? You look great!” you reply with a slight smack to his arm to which you then squeeze slightly to get a feel of. He laughs and goes “Thank you, baby. But not as good as you.” He takes his hands and places them on your hips, lifting them under your dress and up to your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You let out a slight whine and he says to you “Also, you don’t have to get secret feels of me, just ask.” Leaning in after to place a kiss on your neck, still caressing your ass gently. With a soft moan you add “Junie… dinner.” “Oh yeah, almost forgot” he says as he removes his hands and turns to the ingredient bag he brought. He definitely didn’t forget.

“I’m gonna get a vase for these,” you say picking up the flowers and reaching into the cupboards for your last vase, “by the way, thank you for these.” “You’re welcome” he replies with a smile so big you can hear it in his voice along with the rustling of the ingredients he’s pulling out of the bag as your back is turned to him, filling the vase with water. Whilst you’re not looking he places the ingredient bag, no longer full of ingredients but rather with some special items he hoped to use tonight, in the lower cupboard. You turn around, unaware, and place the flowers in the now filled vase and stick them on the table in the living room, looking over to your loving boyfriend preparing to cook. Finally it seems he notices your basket on the counter, that your forgot to move earlier, looking at it he asks “Is this for me?” You rush over instantly, grabbing it before he can look at it closer, “Yes, but for after dinner” you announce, putting it into the hallway closet next to your old curtains. “Okay, okay, guess you’ll want to wait for your gift too?” he asks. “Yes, in fact let me move it into the closet with your gift” you add, grabbing it off the counter and sticking it in the closet as well. He giggles “Alright but no peeking.” You stare at him as he begins cooking, fake upset and go “I would never peek! How dare you assume I would!” With that little smirk of his he responds “Says a chronic peeker.” “I only peeked once!” Whilst chopping herbs he rebuttals with “It was your birthday gift though.” With a tone of a child in trouble you say barely audibly “But it was really big… how could I not?” He starts laughing at the top of his lungs and asks “What are you? In trouble or something?” “Well some punishments are fun so I wouldn’t necessarily mind being in trouble” you tease, knowing damn well you couldn’t handle a punishment. “Relax yourself, you’ll get some after presents” he says in a deep voice, looking at you intensely, almost eye fucking you the way he always does. You gulp harshly feeling your cheeks light up like a fire and stutter out a “O-o-okay…” “Now come be good and help me” he declares, motioning you over.

After about 45 minutes, you are all done with dinner, well, Yeonjun is done with dinner as you’ve never been a great cook but you’re one hell of an assistant! He made cute, little pizza roses and heart shaped garlic knots from scratch. Fortunately he prepared most of the ingredients earlier today, like the dough and the sauce, to make it easier. “Wait wait,” you go, sprinkling the herbs on top of everything “boom, now I made them too.” He laughs, leaning over the counter, slightly sweaty from the heat of the oven. “Okay, you made them” you confess. “It’s okay,” he says as he grabs your hand and kisses it, “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without my beautiful assistant.” “Thanks, Junie” you blush. “Alright lets get these plated up” he exclaims as he’s grabbing plates from the cupboard. You move the untouched rosé and take the plates from him, setting up your counter as you can’t fit a dining table in your small apartment. Then Jun puts three roses and two hearts on each plate, grabbing a fork and knife for each of you from the drawer in case you need them. Which makes you quickly realize you forgot to take out the pink cloth napkins you bought.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaim, “forgot the goddamn napkins.” You can hear him chuckling as you run to the hallway closet once again, pulling them out. “Alright I got em’” you say putting one by each of your plates. “Now sit your ass down and drink some of the rosé, you bitch” you declare loudly, patting the seat next to you. “Okay, okay” he answers, putting his hands up and moving to sit down next to you. Before he can say anything you’re already shoving a pizza rose in your mouth, sauce dripping down your chin. “Baby, chill” he says whilst laughing and wiping your face for you as you stare at him eyes wide, embarrassedly. “Sorry, haven’t eaten yet today” you apologize. “And why not?” he asks mid garlic knot bite. You sink in your chair a little before replying quietly “Been busy getting everything ready for you.” With a smile he says “You know you didn’t need to do all this for me.” “I know, I just wanted to,” you exclaim, “and you also didn’t need to make these from scratch either but it is delicious, Junie.” “I know, I just wanted to” he replies with a smirk, “thank you, y/nie.”

Once dinner is done you excitedly put the dishes in the sink, hurrying into the bathroom to use some mouthwash, bringing some out for him. “Here, to erase the garlic” you say as you hand it to him, which he gladly accepts. As he’s swishing away those knots, you rush over to the closet to bring out your gifts. Putting the basket back onto the counter, you exclaim “Open mine first.” After spitting out the mouthwash into the sink, he wipes his hands off and walks over to it, saying “Alright then.” “Well there’s nothing to really open but y’know.” He laughs and begins pulling out the candy and cologne, “Oooooh,” he expresses as he looks at the candy, already opening it and eating some “my favorite.” “Stop eating and keep going” you rush him. “Alright I’m going,” he responds, pulling the cologne out of the box and spraying it on his wrist to sniff it, “oh that smells nice, thank you, baby.” “Oh, what’s this?” he asks pulling out the heart picture frame, “aw, you make this?” “Yeah and it’s not the only thing I made” you answer proudly. “Well it’s beautiful and definitely going on my nightstand” he gushes pulling out the photo album and plush. Laughing he asks whilst holding the fox, “This supposed to be me?!” You begin laughing yourself, “Yeah, you’re a fox!” “Is this what I look like to you?” he teases whilst holding it up to his face. “Honestly, yes” you admit. Furrowing his brow he shoots a glare at you, “Okay, I’ll take it as a compliment as it’s really cute and will be going on my bed.” “But this outfit,” he says pointing to it, “is proof that my fashion is truly better than Beomgyu’s.” “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” “It is!” he yells in defense. “Just keep going and look in the photo album” you respond.

He begins looking through the album and you can see his eyes welling up. “You okay, Jun?” you ask worriedly. “Yeah,” he says softly, “it’s just sweet.” You walk over to him and rub his back, “I’m glad you like it,” you reply in a comforting tone, “but don’t cry yet, there’s still a card.” “Oh god,” he exclaims, “I’m not gonna make it.” With that he pulls out the card and opens it, reading it quietly to himself. After awhile you can see his eyes tearing up again before a tear begins to fall down his face and onto the cardstock. He reaches out his hand and grabs yours as he finishes reading. Eventually he let’s go of your hand to close the card and put it back into the basket quietly, wiping tears away as he does. After he does he turns to you and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up onto the counter so you’re both at eye level. “Jun?” you ask worriedly. Leaning in closely to you, tears still in his eyes, he conveys “God, I love you so much” before smashing his lips into yours. Butterflies begin swirling in your stomach as you wrap your arms around his neck, briefly he breaks the kiss to say “Thank you, baby, I don’t deserve you.” Before smashing his lips into yours again, getting rougher by the moment, leaning in so close, you can feel his growing erection against you. “Jun, your present for me” you say pulling away in a near moan, leaving a string of saliva between both your lips. “Right, hold on, don’t move” he responds.

Quickly he grabs the gift box for you, handing it to you. You can see the horniness growing in his eyes so you waste no time to open it up, pulling out a silver heart shaped locket. You open it to see a picture of both of you inside, making you blush intensely. “Turn it around” he says to you. With so you do and on the back it says:

“To My Home

With Love, Jun”

With that you begin crying yourself, so much so you can’t even make out any words. Quickly he comes over to you, wiping the red eyeshadow tears away with his thumbs, leaning close to you as he holds your face to say “I know it’s a cliché but I’ve always wanted to do it.” “Funny, I said the same thing to myself about your card and basket” you laugh. Grabbing the locket, he puts it on for you, adjusting it to dangle perfectly. “Guess we’re just a bunch of lovedrunk fools” he replies with a giggle. “No, we’re happy fools,” you joke as he looks at you with a pained look, “sorry I had to.” In a burst of laughter he exclaims “It’s okay, just read my note so I can fuck you already” as he hands it to you. Your cheeks fill with heat as so does another part of you whilst you take the note from him. Your mind clouded with lust as you try desperately to read the note clearly, shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. “Having trouble reading it?” he teases whilst moving his hand up your leg and to your core, stopping before he reaches it. “Yeah…” you say breathless. To then he pulls the note from your hands, “That’s okay, you can read it after.” He sets it down on the counter as he lifts you up again, wrapping your legs around him and you wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you into your bedroom.

Gently he lays you down in the red silk of your sheets. “Wow, you decorated this place up a lot” he says with a chuckle before getting up and leaving the room. “Jun, what the hell?!” you express irritatedly. Not listening to your protests, he gets out his ingredient bag from under the cupboard and brings it into the room. “Sorry, baby,” he apologizes, opening up the bag to pull out a pair of pink leather handcuffs, “I was just hoping to try some new things tonight so I brought em’ with me.” Your eyes grow wide as you stare at them, scared of what else is in that bag. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “I’ll go slowly with everything.” “You can trust me” he declares. Though you both have been together for almost a year, you’ve never done anything non-vanilla. You’d be lying if you weren’t excited however, so nervously you respond with “Okay, Jun, I trust you. Go ahead.”

Quickly your boyfriend leans over you and reaches under you to unzip your dress, pulling it off swiftly revealing your bare breasts and white lace panties. Tugging at them lightly he teases “Aw, put these on just for me, baby?” “Y-yes” you mutter. “Not much of a reason to,” he says as he pulls them down and off you, “they were just gonna come off anyway.” You nod in agreement as he lifts your arms up over your head, threading the cuffs through the slat of your headboard, tightening them on each of your wrists gently. “Too tight?” he asks. You shake your head, feeling your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal. “Good” he says leaning down to kiss you gently but passionately. He removes his lips from yours to say “Let me get the ankle cuffs.” “Ankle cuffs?” you ask, you didn’t even know those existed. He nods, grabbing them from the bag, “They’re meant to keep your pretty legs nice and open for me.” You blush heavily as your boyfriend sets them on the bed, they’re just like the handcuffs, even in a matching pink color, but have a rod attached in between the chains.

Leaning down, Yeonjun removes your shoes slowly, setting them on the floor in front of your bed. Softly he adjusts one of the cuffs around your right ankle and then the other around your left ankle as they naturally force your legs apart. He bends your legs at the knees as the fire begins to burn inside you, him noticing instantly as your breathing becomes heavier. “Getting impatient, baby?” he asks in a low whisper. “Mhmm” you whimper, everything was so new, it made you nervous but excited. Your eyes made their way to the bulge in his pants as he continued digging into the bag again, making your pussy clench around the air. “There’s just one more thing but you need to close your eyes.” “Okay, Junie” you say nervously, closing your eyes shut tight. Soon after you feel the ribbon of your choker being untied and another choker being placed around your neck, this one with a long chain dangling down and in between your breasts.

“Alright open your eyes” he says eagerly. So of course you oblige and see exactly what you felt resting in your cleavage. “Junie?” you ask, “is this a collar and leash?” Holding onto the handle of the leash, in the same color pink, he answers “Yes it is.” “Why would I need this?” you ask embarrassed that you weren’t more knowledgeable with these type of things. “To do this” he says as he pulls onto the handle and you feel the collar tighten around your neck. You let out a gasp and exclaim “Oh! That’s new.” It was hard to speak with it choking you but you found yourself enjoying the squeezing feeling. “New but good?” he asks, making sure you were okay. “Yeah, I like it,” you nodded, “but can you just fuck me already?” He lets out a giggle, responding with “Since you’ve been so patient and brave, of course.”

With that he sticks his head in between your legs, letting them rest atop him as he moves up your body to be face to face with you, leaning in to kiss you. Hurriedly he pushes his tongue through your lips, swirling it around yours, mixing the two of yours saliva together. While he sucks onto the length of your tongue he lifts his left hand up to your right breast, playing with your hard nipple between his index finger and thumb. With his right hand he grabs onto the handle of your leash and pulls it, making you moan into his mouth and your back arch. At this point his tongue is halfway down your throat, bulge pushed against your soaking, unclothed core, leaving a wet spot on his dress pants. Slowly, without breaking the kiss, he begins rutting himself against your clit as you arch your back again. Doing that until you whimper out.

Eventually he removes his lips on yours to suck onto your left nipple harshly, making you moan out in pleasure. As well as bringing his hand down to slip his middle and ring finger deep into your sopping cunt. “Oh fuck, Jun…” you whimper out onto his fingers thrusting in and out of you quickly. “That feel good, baby?” he asks lifting his mouth off your wet nipple, feeling you clench around his fingers. “God,” you say in between your moans, “yes.” “That’s what I like to hear” he expresses, holding your face to look at him. At this point your brain is clouded and your moans filling the empty space of your room, the petals of the roses you placed there earlier tickling your bare skin. Nothing to feel but pure pleasure as you lay there, naked and vulnerable to your boyfriend. Just as you thought you couldn’t feel better, Yeonjun starts rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. “Mmm… god, fuck, Junie” you moan out. As he feels you clench around him, he softly conveys to you “Let it out, baby. Go ahead, cum for me.” As if a dam broke inside you, you feel yourself come undone as you squirt around his fingers that he continues to thrust into you. “Oh Junie!” you yell out as you soak the clean sheets underneath you. “That’s my baby, god, you’re so sexy” he coos at you as he leans in to kiss you desperately with desire. “Fuck,” he moans out in between kisses, “I need to be inside you.”

Without another thought, he removes the roses from the bed and onto the floor so the thorns don’t hurt you. Then he kicks off his shoes and unbuckles his pants, pulling them off with his boxers, revealing his hard, leaking member. Lining himself up with your soaked hole, you exclaim before he enters you “Please Junie, take your shirt off.” “You want me to remove my shirt, baby?” he asks. “Mhmm.” With that he unbuttons the silk of his shirt and removes it quickly, revealing his toned abs. Now realigning himself up with you, he gently inserts the tip of his cock into your pussy with a squelch. He lets out a slight moan as he works the rest of his length into you, making sure to be slow enough for you to get used to his size. You can feel yourself becoming fucked out already as he stretches you open for him, holding your hips for leverage. “Oh god” you moan out as he fills you up slowly.

Soon enough he’s all the way inside you, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. “Fuck, there you go,” he coos as he starts gently thrusting in and out,“god, you’re so tight.” “And you feel so good” you respond as he speeds up his thrusts, reaching down to pull on your leash, choking you lightly. Beginning to fuck you dumb, he pushes his, previously on your clit, thumb in your mouth, “Suck.” With that you do, cleaning the taste of you off him, swirling your tongue around it. Removing his thumb, still fucking you deep, he brushes it against your right nipple, dampening it. You moan out instantly, too fucked dumb to make out anything other than whines of pleasure. “Yeah, you like that, you naughty little thing?” he asks, adjusting himself to fuck you even deeper, making you yell out his name. You bite your lip and respond with “Mhmmmm” as you suppress tears of pleasure from falling down your cheeks. “Good, I like it too” he says in a grunt as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

He picks up the pace, making those red eyeshadow tears finally fall down your cheeks, wiping them away for you instantly. “That’s my good little slut,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Yes, Junie” you moan out. Soon you begin to feel that familiar knot in your stomach as you clench around him. “Aw, fuck baby,” he exclaims, “you’re gonna make me cum if you squeeze me in any harder.” “Can’t… help it… feels so good” you whimper. Tugging on your leash some more, his pace doesn’t slow down as before you know it, that knot unties and you cum harshly on his cock. “Juuunie!” you yell as you quiver around him. “Oh fuck, gonna cum too” he says. Barely able to make it out through your moans you exclaim “Don’t pull out, on the pill.” Which is all he needs hear as he fills your hole with his cum and ears with his moans. “God, I love you so much” he says still pumping you full. “I love you too, Junie.”

Pulling himself out, he stares down at your ruined cunt, dripping his cum out. Suddenly he has his head in between your legs, cleaning up the mess he created, tongue digging out his cum from inside you. You moan out instantly at the sensation as he eats out most of his cum from your hole before leaving the rest in his mouth. Slowly he makes his way up to your face, resting his thumb on your chin before muttering out “Open.” To which you do, making him spit the rest of his cum into your mouth and kiss you harshly. Shoving his tongue in, he mixes his cum and your arousal with both of yours spit, before pulling away. You swallowing instantly after. “What was that for?” you ask. “I had to clean you up” he responds with a smirk. “Think it’s time I read your note?” you ask with a chuckle. “Read it whenever you like,” he says, “I gotta release my baby from their shackles right now.”

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Paid in Full

Josefina stands outside the loading bay door and watches moths flitter around a flickering lamp. Drawn to danger, even if it burns them. Even if it kills them.

She hopes it’s not an omen.

This is the address that was scrawled on a napkin and slid along the bar to her with a shot of cheap tequila. The one man in this town who will take her and her siblings across the border for the paltry amount of cash still tucked away in the bottom of her purse.

And for a little something on the side.

All she could find out about that was that their transport is a secretive sort who doesn’t like people talking about his business.

She’d borrowed garish pink lipstick and the scuffed red heels from another woman in the tent city they’re calling home right now. It can’t hurt to make herself seem a little more appealing. They have to get to Tía Patricia in Los Angeles, so they can get a doctor for Olivia, a good one whose hands aren’t dirty and who isn’t half doubled-over from a smoker’s cough. 

The door creaks open, and a figure steps into its frame.

“Step into the light.” The lisp in his words makes his English even harder to understand. She steps under the lamp, ignoring the moths that now try to tangle themselves in her hair.

“I need to cross the border. Three people.” She doesn’t tell him two of them are less than 18. The less a sleazy man like this knows about her family, the better. “They gave me your name at the Soledad.” 

“Show me your arms.”

She frowns, but holds them out. What he wants from this, she doesn’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like to take his chances with drug users. Not with everything someone can get from a needle.

“They tell you my price?”

“They said you’re the only man in town who’ll do it for a hundred.”

“Not just the money.”

“Yes.”

A hand, nails long and grease-stained, shoots out of the doorway and drops a piece of paper in her palm. “Be here tomorrow at nightfall. Bring this with you.”

When she shows up, Mauri and Olivia’s hands clutched in hers, the sunset is painting the semi-truck parked outside the warehouse in blood-red. She knocks on the door, but no one answers, and instead, she paces the length of the cargo trailer for several minutes, wondering if this is all some kind of trap. If she’s led her siblings here to die, or worse. 

Just as the sun dips below the mountains, the door opens again. The same hand she saw the night before, twisted and clawlike, is extended, and she hands back the folded paper. 

The stranger, a grease-stained hat pulled low over sharp features, opens the back of the truck and settles them in behind a false front of the trailer. The space is small and stuffy, and even though Josefina can see the occasional street light through the few breathing holes, and smell the engine exhausts from passing cars, she feels like she’s been buried alive.

Olivia is shaking. She’s taken her meds already, but this can’t be good for her. Josefina pulls her close, resting her sister’s head in her lap and stroking her tangled, greasy hair. She hums softly, a song Mami used to sing. 

She stops only when the truck does, at the border. There’s lots of yelling in English and lights flashing around them, fists banging on the sides of the truck. She covers Olivia’s ears so she doesn’t panic and scream from the sound, and she sees Mauri covering his own. 

Then there’s another thud, and the truck rolls forward. Josefina releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. 

The truck travels on through the night, finally stopping somewhere pitch black. The doors are opened and then the false front too, and Josefina looks up, blinking in the dim moonlight. It feels too bright. 

The warehouse is almost a carbon copy of the one she visited in Mexico. Blacked out, boarded up windows, a lamp over the door surrounded by fluttering wings. 

The three of them stand on shaky legs, Olivia blinking awake as Josefina moves her off her lap, and stumble out of the truck.

“This is as far as I take you,” the driver says. His voice sounds strange, the lisp even more pronounced. “And now, you pay.”

“I pay for all three of us,” She says, firmly, not that it will do any good. He’s wiry, and taller than her, and she’s cramped and stiff and tired and weak from hunger and fear. 

“Of course.” 

“They don’t need to see this.”

He nods. “They can sit in the cab. Your boy might like to pretend he’s driving. The girl will probably sleep.”

Mauri is, as predicted, ecstatic about sitting in the driver’s seat, reaching for the horn pull and frowning when the driver unhooks it before he can make it make sound, but eventually content to pull on it and make fake honks himself. Olivia looks at Josefina sadly as she’s settled into the seat.

“Te vas?”

“No te estoy dejando. Cinco minutos, mi luz del sol.” 

Olivia leans back against the seat, breathing evening out, head falling sideways to rest on her shoulder.

“Okay. Time to go.” The man leads her toward the warehouse door.

Josefina takes a shaky breath. 

This is for her family. This is how they survive. What happens to her doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. 

She’s not quite sure what happens next. Only that between one breath and the next, hands have closed around her wrist, and then teeth, and then there’s a sharp pain and the hot wet sensation of a mouth locked around her arm. 

She barely has time to realize she’s misread the entire situation before her world narrows to the pinprick of light, and then it’s as if a whole swarm of moths collects around it and plunges it into blackness.

When she wakes up, it’s to sunlight beating on her face, feeling like it’s scorching her eyelids. She rolls over and groans. Everything hurts.

Mauri. Olivia. 

She tries to call out for them, but the sound comes out of her dry mouth as a croak. I left them with that monster. That madman.

She’s failed. She wanted to protect them. And now, she’s lost them.

Burning tears slide down her face, searing her sun-inflamed skin. 

“Jose!” someone shouts.

She knows that voice.

Small hands tug and pull at her blouse and hair.

“Mauri?! Olivia?!” She reaches for them both, but her arms don’t seem to be working. “Dónde estabas?”

Mauri holds up the canteen he was given at one of the camps. “Necesitabas agua. Encontramos un arroyo.”

Water. She does need it. She doesn’t care where it came from. She feels parched. Like someone drained the water from her body like pulling the plug from a sink.

The man. The teeth. Her blood.

She looks down at her arm. It’s wrapped in a strip of cloth with dried brown stains.

Who was he? What was that? What is this?

She can hear a highway in the background, but faintly. Not as close as they were last night. 

She needs several sips from the canteen before she can ask Mauri if he knows how they got here. He tells her the man from the truck said she was tired, and that they needed to take her somewhere else. Mauri had followed him, holding Olivia’s hand, and they’d all walked to this place, some kind of field. The man had said something about the sun coming, and that they should walk west from here, follow the highway, and there would be a town with a building that had a red chicken on a window. He’d said there would be people there who could tell them where to go.

It’s all too strange. Josefina can’t understand what happened at all. She’d imagine she dreamed it, if not for the pain in her arm and the paper blowing across the field with its English words in black bold headlines. 

They’re in America.

But somehow, she feels like she’s crossed a border into another world entirely.

Because now that she can think, there’s only one thing that makes sense of what they encountered last night.

The man who brought them across the border was no man at all.

Un vampiro.

(You can read this story, as well as others from this universe, on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter

[heavenlybutler]

i can’t keep waiting

part one

pairing: austin!elvis x reader

summary: elvis and you have been secretly seeing each other and hiding it from everyone, including his girlfriend. but with him leaving to tour, he confronts you about wanting to be exclusive, not wanting you with other men while he’s gone.

warnings: mentions of sex, angst, some fluff, cheating

word count: 3k

note: i’ve been ABSOLUTELY blown away from the love i’ve been receiving on my last post. it’s feels totally unreal and i can’t thank everyone enough!! i’ve been trying to write up with something great to say thank you for all of the love i’ve been getting but i’ve been struggling with ideas as always. so i wrote this, it’s definitely not my best but i wanted to post it anyways. i’m high as fuck as i type this i tried to proofread but i’m sure there’s still some mistakes but i’ll get to that tomorrow. if anyone wants a part two to this lmk!!! also again, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for all of the love!! <3333

part two here!

“y/n! elvis is here,” you heard your mother yell from down the hall.

a few seconds later, you heard your bedroom door opening from behind you. you turned on the stool of your vanity to find elvis in a pink suit and a blue lace shirt underneath.

“hi, handsome,” you smiled as he closed your bedroom door and made his way over to you.

“hey, beautiful,” elvis leaned down to place a short kiss to your lips.

“this is a nice surprise,” you grinned as you turned around to resume your makeup.

“yeah, uh… darlin, i hope it’s alright. was gon’ call but i figured i’d just come by,” elvis said, sitting down on the end edge of your bed.

“of course it’s alright,” you started, turning to check the clock on your nightstand, “i just gotta get to work in about an hour.”

“want me to drive you?,” elvis politely offered as he always did.

“no honey, it’s okay. mama is gonna let me drive her car since i’ll be back before she has to go into work in the morning,” you responded.

the two of you made casual small talk for the next few minutes but you could tell there was something on his mind.

“the colonel man that i told you about… he wants me to join the hayride tour,” elvis spoke with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“that’s amazing, baby!,” you paused, looking at his reflection in the mirror of your vanity. elvis was fiddling with his hands and staring at them which you noticed. “or is it not?,” you questioned, laying the lipstick that was in your hand down as you turned around to look at him.

“it’s just that… i’ma be gone for a while,” elvis said quietly, finally looking up from his hands. his eyes met yours as worry pondered on his face.

“how long?,” you asked, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice and facial expressions. it was selfish for you to be upset over the boy leaving you but you were still proud he was finally getting some of the recognition he deserved.

“month or so,” elvis murmured, his eyesight moving away from yours and back to his hands.

you had met elvis about three months ago. him and his bandmates came into the diner that you worked at one late night. you were working the night shift so you didn’t really expect anyone to be coming in.

you noticed how handsome the boy was the moment you saw him walk through the door. so you perked up a little when you went to take the men’s order.

“hi, my names y/n. what can i get y’all started with for drinks?,” you smiled as you placed 3 menus down on the table.

“um… i think we’ll all have a coffee,” the handsome one spoke up, his eyes lingered on you shortly before looking over to the men that sat in front of him.

“okay, i’ll have that up for y’all shortly,” you said politely, turning from them but glancing back to see the pretty one’s eyes looking your backside up and down. his glance shot away once he saw you were looking at him.

you eventually took their food orders, returning with their food a few short minutes after. you noticed how chatty they were for it to be two in the morning.

you returned to refill their coffee cups, making small talk with the three of them. they were good company to you since the only other person in the diner was the older cook whose only words to you were yells of demand.

“well, why don’t you sit down with us? doesn’t look like you’ve got many customers waitin’ on ya ‘round here…,” one of the men said while looking around the empty diner.

so you did, you slid into the seat beside the one you had been eying for the past 20 minutes. you learned a bit about the three of them. they introduced themselves as bill, scotty, and elvis. you had heard elvis’s name around town a few times but you never put any thought to it.

they told you about their group, elvis being the voice of it. scotty and bill were more talkative than elvis who you thought may have been sleepy or a bit shy. you conversed with them for what only seemed like 10 minutes but you looked up to the clock to see an hour had passed.

elvis had started to talk as much as the other boys to you, if not more. you enjoyed talking to him the most. you could’ve listened to him talk all night but another group of people walked in.

“it was really nice talking to y’all and i hope to see the three of you again. y’all are welcome to stay as long as you please but i’m gonna run and get the bill for whenever y’all are ready,” you smiled, slipping out of the booth. elvis’s blue eyes followed you as you walked away once again, a little less shameful this time.

you took the other table's drink orders before going behind the counter and writing up the bill for three boys. you thought on it for a second before writing your number down on the back of the bill along with your name.

you returned to the table, sliding the bill to elvis with a small smile.

“do y’all need anything before ya’ leave? a coffee to go?,” you asked, avoiding the handsome boy's face as he read the back of the bill.

“no, thank you. you have been a wonderful server though,” bill smiled, nodding to you.

“i appreciate it,” you spoke, turning to walk away before elvis could say anything to you.

“thank you, miss y/n,” elvis’s voice caught you, making you spin around. you gave one last polite smile, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked away.

after that night, to your surprise and disappointment, you didn’t hear from him for a couple of days. until one late night, he caught your eye as he walked into the diner, by himself this time.

he explained that his mother had washed his pants that had the bill receipt in the pocket. he went looking for it the day after he had met you and found it shredded in the laundry machine.

the story made you giggle but you still wondered why it had taken him days to come back and see you, which you asked.

much to your dismay, he told you he had a girlfriend named dixie. you were disappointed until he told you that he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since the night he left the diner. elvis clarified that he and dixie, while they were still together, they were kind of on the outs since his career had picked up and he’d like to start spending time with you.

you agreed and ever since that night, you’d seen the boy almost every day. you had learned almost everything about him as he’d come over to your house after he got off of work, spending a couple of hours with you before your night shift started.

whenever elvis was around, you never thought about dixie but when he left, you felt guilty. you had never been the type to pursue a boy with a girlfriend. the two of you hadn’t gone farther than kissing because of dixie being at the back of both of your minds.

sometimes your emotions turned from guilty to jealously whenever you thought of her. she got to go to his apartment to see him whenever she wanted, be around his family whenever she wanted, kiss him- touch him… whenever she wanted. and she didn’t have to hide it. she wasn’t his secret.

elvis didn’t like when you brought up her name. he didn’t want to focus on anyone or anything but you when he spent time with you. a month into whatever you wanted to call what the two of you had going on, you nervously asked if elvis thought he would ever break up with her.

elvis told you that he would eventually but he didn’t want to break her heart right now… but that was two months ago now. they weren’t doing well in the first place but elvis just didn’t have the heart to tell her, they’d been together for two years.

you stood up and walked over to sit beside elvis on the edge of your bed. you grabbed his large hand in yours, making him turn his attention to you.

“your mama okay with it?,” you asked knowing his mother was very protective of him from the things he had told you about her. you could tell elvis loved his mama more than anything and you presumed she loved him just as much.

“i mean… she ain’t happy ‘bout it at all. but she wants more people to hear me and watch me perform so she’s agreed to it,” elvis explained, your thumb running up and down his hand to comfort him.

“then what’s the problem, honey?,” you asked with concern in your voice. you wondered why he wasn’t bouncing off the walls with excitement. all he’s ever wished for was for his music to prosper and to spoil his family and you with the money that comes from it.

“i’on wanna leave you,” elvis whispered, his blue eyes boring into yours.

you shook your head with a small comforting smile on your lips, “honey, you know i’ll miss you and all… but i’ll be right here when you get back. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you’d be stupid not to take it.” you shifted a little on the bed, bringing your knee up between the two of you so you could sit comfortably.

“i know, darlin’. but i’m scared,” elvis spoke, his eyes once again looking away from you.

“hey,” you brought your hands to his chin, bringing his face up to look at you. “you’re a great performer, elvis. i know it and apparently so does this colonel fellow. you ain’t got nothin’ to be afraid of.”

“that ain’t the reason, y/n,” elvis paused, you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to explain. he continued, “i know you’re not my girl, technically. but i still don’t want no man trying to sweep you out from under my feet while i’m out of town.”

you took in his words, trying to process them. is he trying to tell you he wants to be exclusive while he’s already got a girl waiting for him at home? it didn’t make any sense to you.

while you hadn’t been seeing other people because you didn’t really have the time to with your schedule… you also hadn’t even thought about seeing another man since you met elvis. but him implying he wanted you to drop that possibility just didn’t sound fair to you.

“elvis… i- i don’t know if i get what you’re trying to say,” you nervously looked at the wall behind him as you dropped his hand, bringing yours to lay on your knee.

“y/n, i want you… i only want you. i want you to be my girl,” elvis laid his hand on top of yours. his words sounded genuine, they really did but you still didn’t know what to think. your mind ran straight to dixie.

“i… i can’t keep waiting on you… what about dix-,” you started, looking back to his concerned face but he cut you off.

“i’ll break up with her when i get back from the tour. i’on wanna do it right now because it’ll cause a lot of drama at home before i leave… but i promise you, i’ll do it,” elvis pleaded, his hand now gripping yours.

you wished you could look into his pleading blue eyes and tell him he needed to go ahead and end it, but you couldn’t.

“i- i don’t know, elvis… y’all have been together for a while. i don’t want to be the cause of this,” you stuttered out the first part.

you were officially going to be a home-wrecking whore if you said yes. all the times you’d imagined this conversation in your head, you had jumped to say yes. thoughts clouded your mind and elvis could tell by the pondering look on your face.

elvis’s other hand snaked around your back, scooting closer to you. his hand that had been placed on yours was now running up and down your arm.

“can i tell you something?,” elvis asked, your head shooting him up to look at him. you softly nodded, not knowing what was about to come out of the boy's mouth next.

elvis went quiet for a few seconds before speaking, “i don’t kiss her anymore. when she kisses me, i obviously have to kiss her back but it’s always short. every second that my lips are on hers, all i can think about is you. but when i kiss you… it’s different. hell, i haven’t made love to her since the day before i met you at the diner…,” elvis revealed, your mouth hung open for a few seconds as you took all of the new information in.

relief shouldn’t have washed over you at the sound of those words but it did. the fact that he had kept himself from pleasure the same as you had the past three months was comforting somehow.

“you’re uh… you’re telling the truth?,” you asked with worry in your small voice, his face coming closer to yours.

“wouldn’t ever lie to you, baby,” elvis’ lips ghosted over yours as he whispered.

you began to stop thinking with your heart and started thinking with your hormones that had built up inside of you for three months.

you shook your head at the thoughts that imploded your brain. elvis noticed the worried look on your face and was immediately concerned.

“what’s on your mind?,” elvis asked, pulling his face away from yours to await your answer.

“you doing-… just you…,” you mumbled, trying to push the ungodly thoughts out of your head.

“me doin’ what, darlin’?”

“you… touching me…,” your shy eyes studied him, trying to read him from his facial expressions.

his eyebrows shot up and a smirk appeared on his face.

“yeah?,” elvis’ hand that rested on your thigh began to move up it but you stopped him.

“we can’t. not until…,” you didn’t finish your sentence but he knew what you meant. you couldn’t do anything more until dixie was out of the picture, you reminded yourself over and over in your head.

“well…,” elvis began, his smirk dropping to a disappointed smile, “now i know what i’ll be thinking about for the next four weeks…,” elvis ended with a small chuckle.

the thought of him leaving you being brought back into your brain made you sigh. you playfully pouted your lip out to the boy which earned a genuine smile from him.

“it’ll all be worth it in the end. everything will be worth it in the end,” you reassured him, on a more serious note, grabbing his hand.

“i know it will,” elvis brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a small kiss on it.

“when do you leave?,” you asked, finally realizing you he hadn’t mentioned it to you.

the small smile left elvis’ face as he responded, “tomorrow morning.”

you heartbeat sped up, not thinking he was going to be leaving so soon. your gaze dropped to your lap as tears formed in your eyes.

“hey, hey,” elvis heard a whimper leave your lips before he pulled you closer to him so you were buried into his chest.

“i’ll be back before you know it. i’ll call you every day. i’ll even call you before i leave in the morning. when i get back… everything will be different. i’ll be able to introduce you to my folks, take you everywhere with me… i ain’t leaving your side when i get back, okay?” elvis rubbed up and down your back as his other hand came under your chin, bringing it up to look at him.

“okay…,” you sniffled out. elvis pressed a kiss to your forehead before your head returned to his chest. the both of you sat in silence as you listened to the patter of his heartbeat for a few minutes.

“i love you.”

elvis finally said the words he had been wanting to say since the first month you spent together.

you slowly raised your head to look at him, you noticed the small tears in his eyes as well.

“i love you,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

[peakyblindersxx]

drunk in love - john shelby x reader

a/n: hello my loves :) here is the john fic that i'm personally really excited about bc i fucking love him & i hope you guys like it!! i'm taking requests if you guys want me to write anything in specific and as always, feel free to message me :)

love, abi xxx

gif by: @deeptheon

prompt: you're john's secretary & he takes you on a trip.

warnings: nsfw!! smut with a teeny tiny bit of fluff if you squint, choking, power play, john being generally irresistible

There were many words to describe John Shelby. Cowardly was not one of them. In the short time you had known him, you had seen him fight god knows how many people, in countless bars across Birmingham. You had seen and heard stories of John blowing up buildings and setting bars on fire. And of course, there was the matter of his arrogance. John dripped confidence from his shoes to his slicked back hair. So cocky, in fact, that you almost wanted to tell him to shut up as much as you wanted to ride his face. Almost.

So, there you sat wistfully at your desk, sneaking glances of him in his office whenever you could. Not that you would even have a chance if you tried; you were his goddamn secretary. Despite the fact that he oozed arrogance, John was a good boss, who always approved your requests for days off. Sure, you were at his beck and call pretty much 24/7, but this also meant you had a front row seat to all the girls he fucked. The women were always stunning, making your hopes deflate even further. However, for the last month, there had been no women. You chalked it up to him finding some sort of girlfriend, so you kept your interactions with him as businesslike as possible. Deep down, through every meeting, phone call, and even just through the windows of his office, you drank in every second of John you could get. He was intoxicating; the smell of his cologne nearly brought you to your knees.

You snapped out of your thoughts, training your eyes back on the work in front of you and taking a drag from your cigarette. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Lizzie, a cigarette between her slightly pursed lips. “John wants you in his office. He doesn’t seem mad, but then again, who knows,” she stated. You stood, smoothing out your red pleated skirt and black blouse and quickly opening your compact to make sure your lipstick hadn’t smudged. “Thanks, Lizzie,” you replied, shooting her a smile as she made her way back to her desk. You made your way across the open office space to John’s office, knocking softly on the frosted window pane that read Shelby Company, Ltd in gold lettering.

“Come in,” John called out, his voice muffled behind the wooden door. You turned the doorknob and entered his office, shutting the door behind you. John sat at a tufted leather chair, puffing from a cigar, flipping through a folder. His suit jacket was abandoned on the velvet settee that sat in front of the fireplace, the gold chains of his sleeve garters glistening in the light. The glow from the fireplace glinted off of John’s profile, catching the frame of his jaw just right. You admired the way the light reflected off of the rings on his hands, making you want to feel the cool metal against your body. His hair was neatly slicked back as usual, along with his dark grey vest, white dress shirt, and tie, making him command the attention of the room.

“Lizzie said you wanted to see me?” You questioned, standing at the back of the room.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” John responded, gesturing towards the empty chairs that sat in front of his oak desk. You sat, crossing your legs and tucking them under the chair. John took another puff from his cigar, smoke billowing through the room. “I need to go to London, and

I need you with me.” You were a little surprised at this, since John had never asked you to go somewhere this far with him before.

“For how long?” You asked, taking a cigarette out and lighting it, your lipstick staining it a dark pink as you took a drag. John’s blue eyes bored into yours as he absent-mindedly flicked his cigar, ashing it into the crystal ashtray on his desk. It was almost as if he could read your mind and see all the filthy things you were imagining him doing to you. God, he was fucking irresistable.

“A week,” John replied, shooting his glass of whiskey as he stood, making his way to a locked cabinet and pulling out a wad of pound notes. He peeled a number of them off, making his way towards you and holding them out for you to take, leaning back against his desk facing you. “Buy yourself some nice dresses, eh? There’s going to be a lot of dinners, and I need you there to take notes.”

You accepted the cash, taking a long drag from your cigarette as your eyes met John’s. You couldn’t bring yourself to resist the urge to flirt back. “What’s your favorite color?” John seemed a little surprised at the question, but his normal confidence quickly returned as he smirked. “Black. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, eh?”

You nodded as he poured himself another whiskey, daydreaming about the way his rough hands would feel around your throat. “Is that all, Mr. Shelby?” You asked, black kitten heels tapping against the carpet.

John nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow.” You stood, turning to walk out of John’s office as you felt his eyes on your figure. As you closed the door behind you, you shivered in expectation. A week alone with John Shelby. How were you going to manage to keep your hands to yourself?

***

The rest of the work day passed quickly, and you headed to the nearest department store, choosing three different black dresses. As much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to look good for John. You wanted him to want you; to feel that longing that you felt between your legs every time his eyes met yours. You chose a longer formal black dress made of silk, a black sequined dress for a party, and the last, a short black dress with fringe that made you look almost like a burlesque dancer. You knew it was risky, exposing that much skin, but then again, John Shelby wasn’t a normal man. He knew what he wanted and he took it, never paying mind to what others thought.

As the rest of the night flew by, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. No matter how many times you touched yourself, you couldn’t get the image of John’s smirk out of your head. You wanted him to bend you over right in his office, and you didn’t care who heard. You wanted him to take everything you had to offer. Eventually, you fell asleep, waking up to the sound of birds chirping loudly outside your apartment window. You almost jumped out of bed, blood pumping with excitement. You got ready, slipping on a dark purple silk dress with black tights and purple pumps, stuffing your cigarette case and pocketbook in your black handbag. You poured yourself a cup of tea, hurrying to get all your bags ready as you didn’t want to keep John waiting.

Right as eight o’clock arrived, you heard a knock on your door. It was John, smelling sweetly of cologne and wearing a freshly pressed black pinstripe three piece suit with a grey tie. His cap sat tilted on his head, and dangling from his lips was a cigar. He was a fucking vision to behold, and your head spun at the thought of the two hour car ride in close quarters that you were about to endure. The driver came in to take your bags, leaving John to walk you to the car. He held out his hand to help you step into the Bentley, your skin buzzing with electricity where his fingers touched yours. John closed the door, making his way to the other side and sliding into the leather interior while the driver finished putting the bags in the trunk and made his way to the driver’s seat, starting the engine and taking off.

John’s blue-grey eyes met yours as he puffed at his cigar, cracking the window slightly to let the smoke waft out. “You pack everything we need?” You subconsciously pressed your legs together, filthy images swirling through your brain as you managed to ignore them. “Yes, Mr. Shelby, I got the list you sent me for what to bring. Did you need anything other than that?”

John shook his head no, putting out his cigar in the ashtray. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as the car rumbled along over the brick roads.

“What’s your favorite color?” You looked over at John in surprise. He must have understood your confusion as he added, “You asked what mine was. I want to know yours.”

“Red,” you replied, fumbling for a cigarette, and when finding one, striking a match to light it.

John’s eyes fixed on your dark red stained lips. “Red, aye?”

Your instincts got the better of you. “Is there a problem with that, Mr. Shelby?”

“Call me John,” he said, words muffled by the cigarette in his mouth that he was lighting. After he finished, he took a drag, fixing his eyes back on you. “And, no. The opposite, actually.”

You weren’t brave enough to ask what that meant, so you let silence take over once again. Maybe later, when you had had a few drinks in you. What the fuck were you doing?

Finally, the dirt roads underneath once again turned into cobblestone, and you knew you were in London by the smell and smoke that hovered over the city. The Bentley rolled to a stop in front of a massive factory building, stretching blocks long. You could hear the yells of the workers from inside the car. John reached for his gun, loading it and affixing it back into his holster.

“We’ve got a meeting first, then dinner. Driver’s going to drop off our bags at the hotel. C’mon sweetheart, and stay by me. Who knows what these fuckers are going to pull around here,” John said, opening the door and reaching his hand out for you to take. You blushed at the pet name, taking John’s hand as he quickly whisked you off the street and into the building, up a flight of stairs where two men directed the two of you into a meeting room with a large table and dark leather chairs. John sank into the chair at the head of the table, and you slid into the seat next to him, taking out a notebook. Before you had any time to even write the date, John’s hand was on your waist, pulling you close to him. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at the proximity.

“If anybody pulls a fucking gun, you get behind me. You understand?” You nodded, crossing your legs at the ankle as you tried to focus your thoughts on something other than how fucking amazing John smelled. John’s hand left your waist as the door opened, the men whom he was meeting with entering the room. The meeting was uneventful, John successfully closing the deal with these men, who you found out were the Chinese. The driver picked you both up out front, taking the two of you back to your hotel to get changed for what you found out was a French restaurant in London’s downtown. The hotel room was a suite with two rooms, one for you and the larger one for John. You decided to wear the short black dress with fringe along with black fluffy kitten heels, and when John walked out of his room, the first word out of his mouth was “Fuck.” Your cheeks blushed a bright pink as John’s eyes traveled down your body.

“You look amazing.” John held out his arm for you to grab, leading you into the car as you took off. It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, passing through busy streets packed with people of opulence. As John held the door for you to walk in, you almost gasped in amazement at the massive gold chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The waiter led you and John to your table, and as John pulled out your chair for you and walked around the table to sit at his, you almost couldn’t believe you were here, let alone with John Shelby, one of the biggest and by your standards most certainly the most handsome gangsters in Birmingham. Yet, there he sat across from you, looking fucking delectable in a dark grey three-piece suit and black tie.

The dinner was amazing, time passing quickly as the two of you fell into conversation. John Shelby was funny, you realized, and at the heart of it all, sweet. Soon, a glass of wine turned into five, and the driver eventually dropped the two of you back off at the hotel, as the other customers had complained about the raucous laughing coming from your table. You burst into the room giggling, John following close behind, as the two of you flopped onto the velvet settee, knees and shoulders brushing.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” John said, eyes locking with yours. Your jaw almost dropped as your cheeks turned pink. “What?”

“You heard me,” John said, lighting a cigarette. “You’re fucking pretty.”

You stared at him, alcohol fueling your confidence. “Then why don’t you do something about it?” The words spilled out of your mouth. John wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours roughly, picking you up and setting you on the bed. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock hard against your lower stomach, earning a grunt from John as he ripped off your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. You opened your mouth in protest, but John beat you to it. “I’ll buy you three new ones, yeah?” He questioned before running his hands down your hips, a finger slipping underneath the waistband of your black panties. Goosebumps ran down your skin and John chuckled, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“God, you look so pretty all spread out for me. Better than I fucking imagined,” he said, pulling your panties down your legs and rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. Your body jolted in response. “John,” you panted. “Oh fuck John, please don’t tease me..”

John grinned up at you, pushing one finger in you slowly. “What do you want? Tell me, darling.”

“Your mouth, John, please,” you gasped, squirming for some sort of relief. John responded by licking slowly up your cunt, flicking his tongue in circles around your clit before returning his attention to your pussy, his right hand rubbing your clit. You cried out, back arching as you pushed against John’s mouth. You felt him growl in response, vibrations pulsing throughout your body and sending you over the edge and you came all over John’s face. You attempted to catch your breath as John stood with a boyish smirk, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve before discarding his clothes, his large cock standing at attention against his taught stomach muscles.

“God you taste good,” John rumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I’ll have you tomorrow for breakfast too,” he grinned. You laughed in response, John cutting that laugh short by running the head of his cock up and down your dripping cunt.

“Sir, please,” you whined, eyes widening when you realized what had just left your mouth. Before you could apologize, you felt John’s hand wrap around your throat.

“You going to be a good girl for me, hmm?” John’s blue eyes bored into yours.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, crying out as John entered you at a ridiculous pace, covering your mouth with his. He kissed like a starved man, hungry for everything you had to give, and you gave it gladly. John’s cock bumped up against your g spot with every thrust as he fucked you, your moans echoing throughout the hotel room.

“Your pussy is amazing,” John groaned as he fucked into you relentlessly. “Fucking mine now, yeah?”

You nodded, unable to form the proper words as John chuckled darkly. “Pretty little thing, can’t even talk when I’m fucking you this good, hm?” Your only reply was a moan as John gripped your throat tightly, causing you to see stars.

“That’s right, sweetheart, come all over my cock,” John crooned as you reached your release, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You cried out as John fucked you even harder, eyes locked with yours. “Mine,” John grunted, hips snapping flush with yours as he continued to thrust inside of you, your pussy squeezing around his cock as you neared your second orgasm.

“I want you to come in me, sir, please,” you begged, hands clawing at John’s back. John groaned in response, fucking you at the fastest pace he possibly could as your cries echoed off the walls before eventually releasing inside of you, falling onto the bed next you as the two of you caught your breath. John slung an arm around you, pulling you close to him as he locked his eyes with yours.

“I meant what I said, you know.” “What did you say?” You asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

“That you were pretty,” John said, sitting up to grab a cigarette and light it, his blue eyes glistening in the light of the fireplace. “I’ve thought about you more than I’d like to admit.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “And I’m not just drunk,” John continued, eyes meeting yours again. “I think I’m in love.”

“Me too.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming from your mouth. John followed them with a deep kiss, pulling you on top of him.

“I’m gonna fuck you until the sun comes up,” John grinned as you laughed, covering your mouth with his.

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[fandom-monium]

Kinky but Not Really

Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi

Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.

Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 

Even if you’re weird.

Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.

But somehow you still manage to surprise him.

“You want me to what?” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”

Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”

You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 

“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”

“Oh my god⏤”

“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”

You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”

“What the-when did you up your demands?”

You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.

How can he say no?

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”

⏤

The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.

David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.

Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.

Then there’s Luke.

“You!”

Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”

“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 

“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”

“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”

And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 

She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

“... Not a clue.”

Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”

“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.

“You didn't see them today, have you?" 

"No?"

Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”

Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”

(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)

“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”

(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)

“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.

She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”

“Bring me back from what?”

They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.

“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 

“A what?”

Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”

“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”

“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 

"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"

"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 

"I've never wanted to be this close to you."

"My sweet summer child is no longer."

"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”

Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”

“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.

Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”

Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 

But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”

Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”

“Dude, are you crying?”

⏤

“So you couldn't do it, huh?"

Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”

“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.

Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.

So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 

A final stand, if you will.

You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”

You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.

At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.

Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Your jaw slackens.

The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?

“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 

You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”

...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.

Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.

Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”

He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.

Especially because you’re weird.

⏤

AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops

to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨

pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!

i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

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 reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

[etherealeeknow]

give and take

• rated m for mature

• pairing: producer!chan x producer!fem reader

• wc: 1.363

• tw: oral (m), fingering (f), groping, slight nipple play, explicit language, i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: ahaha this took me a while, but i’m done, i’m done! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS 🥺 also, please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. p.s feedbacks are much appreciated <3

—

unlike how most studios are filled with harmonies, the studio you’re in now is filled with nothing but chan’s soft moans, which occasionally would go higher whenever the tip of his throbbing cock hits the back of your throat—making you gag. you never fail to wow him though. the way you’d always look up at him with doe watery eyes, yet head continuously bobbing in and out of his length drives him mad. “fuck, you’re always t- taking me so well,” he grunts heavily, eyes shutting tightly while lips parting slightly, both from ecstasy.

everyone sees chan as a caring, sweet, loving person, and they are right; chan is indeed all of the things said above—except when he’s close to release. chan’s gentle demeanor can never win over his alter ego. he’d always switch from tenderly caressing your head to aggressively pushing you forward, deeper. “always so pretty too, y/n, you’re a goddess- ah, fuck!” he hisses when you suck him harshly, cherry pink lips quivering over his veiny cock, but your tongue keeps going until he twitches inside of you—that’s your cue. in a flash, you replace your mouth with your hand, jerking chan off delicately yet deadly in speed. it doesn’t even take a minute until he loses it all, lips repeatedly hollering your name as he spurts his cement onto your face and your stuck out tongue.

despite short of breath, chan would always use his remaining strength to keep his eyes open for his favorite part, watching you savour and swallow every drop of his cum without leaving anything behind. afterwards, you go back to just the way things are. briefly wiping your face with a wet tissue before making yourself comfortable on the couch with your headset on, and continue writing on your lyrics. your action makes him sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. it pains him how you always manage to make it look like nothing happened, like seeing him break doesn’t affect you or whatsoever. sure, once in a blue moon, you’d let him kiss you passionately for a few seconds, or you’d be the one pecking his lips, but nothing more. and whenever he asks why, your answer remains the same.

“you don’t do give and take,” he mumbles while standing up to fix himself, legs still wobbly like jelly, “why?” he continues as he plops down on the floor to face you, legs crossing, right hand resting right beside your thigh, and eyes bore deeply into yours. scoffing, you shift your gazes back to your ipad while. “because i don’t want to owe you anything. now, what do you think of this line?” this time, it’s his turn to scoff and you shoot him a glare, which oddly, doesn’t intimidate him like usual, but he still obliges nonetheless.

chan presses down onto the couch to support himself while you scoot over to give him some space. both of you now sitting side by side with you resting your elbow on chan’s thigh to give him a better view of the lyrics. the unusual silence makes you think your lines aren’t working, but when you turn to check on him, that definitely isn’t the case. before you even manage to warn him, chan is already leaning towards you, his hand swiftly snatching your ipad, resting it on the ground, and making its way to you. “come on, y/n. i know you want it,” he says in his usual tone, but somehow manages to send shivers down your spine.

“chan,” he runs his hand faintly along your bare thigh, thanking the heavens above that out of every damned piece of clothing in your closet, you choose to go with an oversized hoodie and biker shorts today. “chan, don’t,” he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer while he, himself, is shifting forward until there’s barely any space left for air between the two of you—eyes locking, nose touching, and hearts thumping. “please, y/n, let me give back to you,” he pleads then stays still, waiting for an answer, a nod, a humm. but you don’t give him any of that, instead you mutter a “fuck it,” before capturing his lips, both tongues fighting to take control while deep down, chan starts counting.

one, two, three, four- once he gets to five, he knows he has won because you’ve never let him kiss you for more than five seconds. this is a first and it definitely won’t be the last, he’ll make sure of that. smirking gleefully, chan breaks the kiss and he swears he heard you groan softly, but the boy’s smart enough not to push his luck for now. “let me give back to you,” he repeats sincerely and this time, you murmur a yes. chan wastes no time. he goes from sitting beside you to sitting behind you, legs on each of your side, and hands helping you pull off your shorts and damp underwear. he pulls you back down right away and begins exploring every inch of your body—sneaking a hand under your hoodie while running his fingers along your wet slit.

your body automatically reacts to his touch, jaw dropping and head arching back to lay on his shoulder as you eagerly rub your own clit. “is this the same y/n who’s been refusing me for a whole year?” chan chuckles lowly beside your ear, his breath tickles you, making you squirm even more as he inserts a finger in, followed by another one, and there he goes, thrusting his long digits in and out of you like there’s no tomorrow. it takes no time for you to become a stuttering mess while messily grinding your hips to spark more friction. truthfully speaking, chan usually doesn’t let his woman do that, but you are not his—not yet. and judging from how desperate you are, he can tell it’s been awhile since you last got off, so he’s playing it easy. just this once.

chan goes on with marking your neck and you attempt to stop him, but that only make him go further. the sounds coming out of his lips are enough to let you know the marks are all the deep purple kind, and that no foundation can cover them up. having no fucks left to give, you can only moan, lost in pleasure. when you place a hand over his crotch, he immediately yanks it away. “no,” he warns sternly, “it’s called give and take for a reason. you’ve done your part, now let me do mine, will you?” he asks, curling his finger and it hits your sweet spot just right, making your walls clenched. “ah- fuck!”

“that’s not the answer, y/n,” he snickers while carrying on. “yes, yes, chan! give it to me, please-” finally, you’re begging, and it instantly becomes chan’s favorite tune. he has written hundreds of songs, uncountable melodies, but none is as heavenly as your whines. “good girl. tell me when you’re cumming, hmm?” he carries on, fingers going faster than you could ever imagine while pinching your nipples, tightening the knot in your abdomen. “chan, chan, i’m-” you have your nails digging into his thighs while you tremble and squeal blissfully in his hold until your voice died down. chan, being the gentleman he is, patiently helps you ride out your high—kissing your temple and running his unoccupied hand soothingly on your thigh.

after a while, he slowly pulls out his cum coated fingers and his eyes glisten in amusement. despite having the biggest urge to make you suck on your own liquid, he checks on you first, only to find you falling into a deep slumber. “y/n- god, what do i do with you?” he chortles, eyes going crescent over your peaceful figure, and definitely out of satisfaction. as much as he lives for the view of your lipstick smudging all over his dick, by the end of the day, all chan has ever wanted is to give back to you, and today, he succeeds—right now, he’s even holding you, and he’ll make sure not to let go.

—

gen’s masterlist

[simmonsized]

I giggled so hard at:

He cannot (will not) stop following after Bro Strider like a lost dog after a bone no this will not change

God, I love their silly dynamic. Glad it won’t change, these two crack me up. Also Bro trying to get himself killed… dude…. Honestly, I would say he’s fucked up but we all know that. He got something wrong up there.

Those were great, as always. Silly stuff is my jam, yk?

It’s mom-londe time!! I cannot stress enough how much I love her. All the lalondes’ are great :)

Bro sure is a fucked up guy, with a strange sense of humor, and potentially kind of sideways ideas about what he wants! But he's fine. They're fine now! I am glad you are having fun, I try to mix some genuine thoughts with my sillier things thrown in but it's kind of embarrassing haha.

Me, every time I make one of these: "this isn't going to be a meta post"

Mom Lalonde!! Momlonde!

Tbh she was really difficult for me at first because of the kind of... Mm capricious nature of her "personality" and also the fact that she's standing up against her (best friend) only competition for parenthood and it's like. Lol bro strider (dadbert doesn't count obviously bc he's dad). But this isn't a meta post, it's for silly headcanons, and I've got time for that! (apologies im writing this before bed and will probably draft it for tomorrow) warning we are going to talk about some downer stuff but I hope I make up for it! (cw alcoholism)

Okay first of all Mom is??? Weirdly tall. Have you ever looked at their goo sprites??? Am I the only one who stared at their ecto sprites and put them side by side no okay cool

Her favorite color is pink!!!!

She is still using that same bedspread from childhood that's canon I just think it's so funny

This lady loves wizards so fucking much

There is no way she has not played DnD

Was Harley's Skaianet protege which drove a wedge between her and Bro early on

Started drinking around 15 due to lack of proper supervision and like, no control

Has been to cool-leg (college)

Recovering alcoholic

I know we don't see Mom for the first little while in rng and okay we're getting into obviously behind-the-curtain bs but this fic was never supposed to get past 45k so yes the beginning is a little rushed BUT

She was trying really fucking hard to get sober and having a shit awful time

I think it would actually be really hard for her to change; Roxy (kid) is a resilient, kind person, but Mom has spent more of her life drinking than Roxy has been alive, and these things take time. Still, she wasn't willing to give up, I imagine, if only because Roxy (little) probably asked her to

I don't think Rose would be brave enough to confront her mother, not yet. When it comes down to it, she's deeply ashamed of her own behavior, but also not as ready to dismiss her upbringing (previous excuses being that her mom was a lonely, single parent) now that she's not dead.

This woman has probably bought every shade of black lipstick in existence to find the one that works for her

Mom boxed in college, for money (and fun!!), and before she lost contact with Bro, he would like, go with her and just "support her' in his weird way

She's probably broken a few fingers in her day, but it just makes her even stronger

She can tenderly cradle Bro Strider like a newborn infant because she is so fucking strong

Jake Harley taught her how to shoot

Nanna has tried to teach her to cook no less than 5 times and has never worked

Her specialty is hangover food

She is trying so hard not to swear in front of her kids this is just something I see in the fandom a lot and it was so funny and sweet I adopted it

Tbh Mom is actually pretty fucking manipulative like if we get down to it she uses her smiles and cheer to corral people into doing stuff for her and it almost always works

She knows this and does it anyway

I think that she was probably super mad at bro and like does she really know everything no of course not but she knows he was fucked in the head and while I think she's oblivious to a point, she knows something is Wrong

But she's mad at him for not contacting her sooner, for falling out with her in the first place, for leaving her behind with Grandpa when she had no one else to turn to as a teen

G.pa is the one who taught her to drive (bro learned from nanna, and then later from [redacted])

Yes her driving with one hand on the middle peg is actually based on a thing that happened to me in the car once I was dying the whole time

She desperately wants to paint Bro's fingernails but he will not sit still long enough to let her

Her idea of apologizing (much like Bro) is to shower people in gifts, and I do wonder if this stems with their fraught relationship with the other beta guardians, particularly grandpa (yes I am aware this is my au I'm just saying)

In fact I am so certain of her tendency towards giving Rose gifts that it makes Rose deeply uncomfortable, almost to the point where she straight up thought her mother was mocking her relentlessly

I think about Rose a lot that's all

She probably has a name for each of those cats and forgets it every single day but when she "makes up" a name again it's coincidentally the same one

She taught Rose how to ice skate on the pond near their house back when Rose was real little, before things got too bad

Her current pride and joy is that minivan she has always wanted a minivan a la large family

Bro will complain til the cows come home but I really think he'd only be willing to ride shotgun if she was driving, though obviously he'd prefer she not be driving at all

She is right-handed, but bats left

Definitely used to walk around the lab with baby Rose strapped to her front, whether she did anything I'll leave to you

That pink shirt hanging out of bro's old suitcase did in fact used to belong to her; when they would travel before they'd share a suitcase

She was a black cat for Halloween every year until she turned 15

She has never heard Bro talk in his sleep bc (forgot to mention this before) when he had Cal, he did not, in fact, talk in his sleep :)

But also bc she can sleep through anything lol

And snores

So when they fought for the last time, bro literally upended the entire suitcase, dumped all her shit(and quite frankly most of his) out onto the floor and then took it and left

Their last big fight was about the house in Rainbow Falls

This lady has all the data for every meteor shower recorded for every year from 1910 until 2012 and has never in her life heard of Proper Data Entry Management

Whats a spreadsheet, Dirk??? How do you spread the sheets Dirk???

Y'all ever see historical recorded data for a buoy before??? That's what we're working with

I think she and Roxy unironically like spending time together. I think Mom was probably more likely freaked at first, but seeing Roxy learn to control her own impulses and admit she had a problem so young really helped her overcome a lot internalized bullshit

Sometimes when she's feeling anxious or sad she holds a martini glass, but she never drinks out of it, not even water

Has definitely had at least one of her teeth knocked out (boxing), but you will never know except she's got fake replacements

Not really above lying for someone else's sake, but mostly would just prefer the easier path if it means avoiding hurting someone's feelings

Has a tendency towards infantalizing the kids but it's hard to tell where she means it to come from -- quite frankly a lot of it stems from the fact that she hasn't talked to anyone sober in years

The other thing is that the last time she Rose she was only 13 still

I remember someone bringing up to me that they were shocked when I mentioned maybe mom could have resented Rose a little while she was growing up and like. I have no doubt she loves her deeply, but it's so hard to put into words the complex problems that go into raising a child at the expense of the loss of essentially your own childhood and especially your young adulthood

This is a little too meta for a silly headcanons post lol I just think Mom is neat

Mom has always wanted to try something like hobby boat racing

[brainmaniaman]

PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE (ERWIN SMITH/READER)

TAGS: sugar daddy erwin, smut, brat tamer erwin, oral (male receiving), lazy fucking? , praise kink? very light degradation? idk i am just writing things that i feel like was included DESCRPTION: my brain absolutely rots for brat tamer sugar daddy erwin who finds a creative way to punish his baby for making a fool out of him i am going to cry idk why i just see erwin a brat tamer but one that goes very slow. idk this is just how i see him in my head don't @ me. idk how i feel about this but it definitely exists. WORD COUNT: 3,521

It was no secret that Erwin Smith like young women.

Specifically, young smart men and women - men and women with a good head on their shoulders and aspirations. It made conversating enjoyable, as he liked to hear about what made them tick, what brought them joy, what they wanted to do in their lives. Provided their aspirations were noble enough for his liking, he liked to fund their passions, lifestyles, and hobbies. After all, his pockets were deep and no mister, misses, or family of his own and things got boring - so since he didn't have kids or a life partner to pour into, he liked to pour into his fleeting partners.

He also liked to see them unravel before him, tongue hanging out of the side of their mouths, toes curling against the mattress, and eyes rolling into the back of their head as he fucked the mercilessly stupid - reducing them to nothing but a babbling mess of incoherent thoughts and words, drunk on the feeling of his massive cock sliding in and out of them.

But Erwin Smith, a gentleman, would never admit to that.

Sprawled out on his back, Erwin rested his right hand behind his head, looking up at you as you straddled his waist, his left hand idly playing with the small, silver, ring dangling from the front of the black choker adorning your neck.

A pout twisted on your lips as he pushed the ring back and forth, eyes focusing on your throat instead of you.

Your hands pawed at his waist before moving to his belt buckle, beginning to slide it through.

"Ah -" Erwin moved his right arm out from behind his head, resting his large hand over yours - keeping you from undoing his belt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your lips curled downwards into a scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Something you shouldn't."

"And why . . ." You tapped your free hand, the one that wasn't trapped under his own, on his - impatiently. "Is that?"

"Do you recall the events that unfolded tonight?"

"Hm . . ." You tapped your index finger against your chin. "No. Not particularly."

Had this been anyone else, their temper would have been lost. Hell, your attitude was strong enough to crack most people who tried to reign it under control. Erwin ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed together. If anything, Erwin liked the challenge. If there was anything Erwin was known for, it was his seemingly infinite patience.

"You can't recall?"

"No."

"Would you like to recall before I give you a reason to recall?"

You squirmed with excitement. Threats excited you - threats with others usually ended in spankings, and you liked those.

"No - I don't think so."

Erwin hooked his right finger into the silver ringlet dangling at your neck, giving it a slight tug forward - bringing your head down so that your lips ghosted his own.

"Very well then." Erwin breathed against your lips, "Take of your stockings."

Excitedly, you began to roll off your black stockings - those $300 dollar pair he had bought you on a whim, because you had pointed at them and told him you thought they looked nice.

You shifted on him patiently, dropping your weight down onto his cock, squirming with anticipation - waiting for him to flip you onto your stomach, press your head into the pillows, and strike his hand against your ass.

That time never came.

In fact, he was starring intently into your own eyes - and now you weren't squirming with anticipation but, rather, nervousness.

"Ride me."

"What -"

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious -"

"I am."

"Suddenly, I remember what I did -" You were starting to, essentially, plead with him, "We were at the party and -"

Erwin reached up, pressing his finger to your lips.

"You can finish the story when my cock is inside of you."

You sucked in your lower lip, tears biting the corner of your eyes.

He removed his large hand from your own.

"Go on - take my belt off . . . since you were previously so eager to take it off."

Your face was hot with humiliation and frustration as your fingers fumbled with his belt, starting to pull it through its loops.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you to get your own drink when you asked me to grab the punch . . ."

"Mmm . . ." Erwin responded, lifting his hips slightly as you slid the belt off of his hips. "Perhaps you shouldn't have. It doesn't change the prognosis of your situation, though. Continue with what you were doing." Erwin now stretched both of his arms back, his abs rippling and flexing underneath his shirt as he cradled his hands underneath his head, eyes still trained on you.

Your fingers shook a bit as you began to unbutton his pants, pushing his boxers down, pulling his cock out. It was big, long, and girthy - the holy trifecta, as you called it - and was currently semi-hard. You ran your tongue over your top row of teeth. You couldn't help but imagine how great it would feel for his big hands to press your head down into the mattress and fill you up from behind before fucking you into the bed.

"Be a dear and help me out, use your mouth."

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of your friends -"

"Mmm . . ." Erwin hummed again, "Perhaps you shouldn't have. Continue on."

"And if I don't?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, reaching his hand out and pressing the palm of his hand against the hot side of your face.

"You know me, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not willing to do."

"Alright, seems like we have a mutual understanding -" You leaned him into his warm hand, body tensing at the feeling of his touch.

"- but do you think I'll just forget about tonight? At some point, you'll have to face the music. Do you think I'll just forget by tomorrow and then by the next day, roll you over and fuck you? You should know me better by now."

You crinkled your nose.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hesitantly leaned your head down. Truthfully, this isn't how you expected the night to end. You had hoped in your playfulness - in openly defying him and saying no in front of his friends - he'd lose his temper at home and bring out the crop whip.

"Are you sure you don't want to just use the crop whip and call it even?"

Erwin's arms now stretched behind his head again, he tilted his head down. The sight of your hand gripped around the base of his cock, looking up at him with those doe eyes - it made him want to roll you onto your stomach, press your cheek to the headboard, and thrust into you mercilessly.

But this wasn't about seeking his own pleasure - it was about teaching you a lesson - and patience was key.

"Whips are for good girls and boys." Erwin drawled lazily, "Do you think you've been good?"

You hummed in response. He really wasn't going to let up, was he?

"And if I comply, what do I get?" You puffed out your cheeks.

"You think making amends should end in a reward?"

"I don't see why not."

"We'll see."

We'll see.

That maybe was enough to convince you it might be worth your time to comply. You lowered your head, running your tongue around his tip. You could feel his legs tense at the feeling. You used his tongue to continue to tease around the tip of his cock.

Two could play at this game.

You had planned on continuing to do this until you felt Erwin's hand come against the back of your head. It wasn't heavy, it didn't push down on your head, but simply rested there.

"Go on."

If you were going to lower your head, he wanted you to do it out of your own volition.

He wanted the satisfaction of your compliance.

There was a moment of hesitation as you continued to tease the tip of his cock - which was big. You hadn't taken him in your mouth before - usually, by now, he would bury himself to you to his hilt and thrust mercilessly. You hadn't had him in your mouth before. Hell, you weren't sure if it was capable. Even so, you widened your mouth - slowly taking him into your mouth - your tongue sliding along the length of his big cock, which stretched your mouth beyond what was normal. He kept his hand on the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair.

Slowly, you began to slide your bob your head up and down on his cock. Pride swelled in you as he let out a breathy sigh, his abdomen flexing slightly. Positioned between his legs, you gripped at his thighs - fingernails digging into the large muscles of his thighs. Erwin's thighs clenched as your sides as you continued to bob your head up and down his cock slowly - your hands gripping at the base of his cock to steady yourself. You had only managed to make it half of the way down before you could feel your eyes water, close to triggering your gag reflex. Your neck began to flex upwards but his hand became heavy on the back of your head, pushing your head back down slowly.

"Your little mouth looks so pretty around my dick-" Erwin breathed out, "Much better than it looks when you're spewing defiant vulgarities against me."

You grew wet at the comment, drenching you panties. You fidgeted, rubbing your thighs together with arousal as his fingers curled tightly in the strands.

Pink lipstick smudged at his dick as he pulled your head upwards, starting to guide you up and down the length of his cock.

"Don't you think?"

Saliva dripped from the edges of your lips as your mouth continued to slide up and down his dick, his breath becoming shaking and unstable - only driving you to perform better. Perhaps if you had him like putty your hands, he'd be more willing to forgive and forget.

"So pretty -" Erwin praised, his sharp blue eyes looking lazily down at you, clearly pleased with the way you struggled to take the entirety of his cock between your lips, the way saliva dripped from the edges of your lips, and the muffled mmfs and hhns you gagged out - rumbling against his skin. "Pretty little things like you shouldn't waste your time spewing such hateful and bratty things. Don't you agree?"

"Hmmm" You hummed against his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath was becoming more erratic as he continued to guide your head up and down the length of his cock, though maintained eye contact with you.

"- wanna look into your eyes when I cum in your mouth" Erwin choked out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly, "- and see it spill over that smart mouth of yours"

Your pussy now throbbing and aching as his tip pressed the back of your throat, coming dangerously close to triggering your gag reflex.

He didn't move his hips to aide you, simply guided your head.

Despite his light moans and groans, he remains miraculously quiet. Unlike you, he's never been quite loud. There's a moment as your lips and tongue drag up from the base of his cock, dragging to his tip, and he for a moment he thinks he may just see stars as he unloads into your mouth. If you think about pulling back, you can't, as his hand holds you in place even as cum starts to drip from the corners of your mouth, spilling and dribbling onto your chin.

His fingers uncurl from your hair and drop to move strands of hair from your eyes before wiping at the corner of your mouth - though the movement of his thumb doesn't do anything to clean you up in the slightest. It's more of gentle gesture than anything else.

"I've done my part -" You go to sputter out, but he only laughs and shakes his head.

Erwin's hand slips between your legs, gently grabbing at your pussy with his big hand. "You're already wet - and from just that? Dirty little thing. You want my cock in you, right?"

"Yes -"

The hand between your thighs presses up against your pussy and his left hand grips at your hips, lifting you to your knees so that you're properly straddling him again. He's working of your lacy panties now, tossing them to the side.

"Go ahead -" He motions to himself, "Fill yourself."

You furrow your eyebrows, expression clearly displeased. You feel more and more control slipping away from you and suddenly, you feel increasingly more self-conscious. By now, anyone else would have simply had their way with you - the way you liked it. But this man was making you work for it - and honestly, it was punishment enough.

"I think I've learned my lesson by now -" You sputter out, not too keen on doing the rest of the work.

"Maybe you have." Erwin responds lazily, "But if I were to end the punishment here, you wouldn't learn your lesson - would you? But surely, if you want - we can stop here." He pressed his hand in between your thighs, his fingers rubbing lazily at your slit before running around your clit. Your legs were shaking as you let out small whines and moans. "Do you want to end here?"

"N-No!" You sputter out as his fingers continue to slide slickly up and down your pussy. Erwin's fingers teased the entrance of your cunt, pressing in slightly as his thumb pressed itself into your clit - but didn't go much further.

"Then I suggest -" Erwin arched his back up, bringing his lips to ghost over yours as his free hand wiped some of the frustrated tears dripping at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down the sides of your cheeks, "- you put in the work to show me just how sorry you are . . . and maybe I'll consider rewarding you for your effort."

He really wasn't going to relent.

You placed your hands on his fully erect cock again, lining the tip of his dick up against your entrance. Both of his hands rested against the side of your face reassuringly, admiring how your chin glistened with his cum.

"Go on." He encouraged you.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock - carefully taking it agonizingly slow as his dick stretched you out uncomfortably; it was clearly taking you a while to adjust. For the moment, he let you take your sweet time - besides, the punishment itself wasn't about not seeking pleasure. It was about making you put in the work to seek out your own pleasure. Perhaps after this, you'd be less likely to make a fool out of him in front of his friends.

Your legs shifted as you sat still, practically warming his cock as you sat there.

"Well?" He asked patiently, "Work for it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Hesitantly, you raised yourself up a bit - sliding yourself upwards. At the feeling of your tight cunt sliding against his big cock, he couldn't help but groan. Slowly, you lowered yourself down again. For a second, you waited - hoping that if you took it slow and steady, he'd get impatient, grab you by the hips, and fuck you himself.

"You're smart enough to know I'm not stupid," Erwin said, tapping your temple with his index finger, "I know the game you're playing. Keep going."

You pouted but he simply drug his thumb over your lip, puling it down before hooking his thumb into your mouth - pressing the pad of his thumb into your gums.

You continued to slide slowly up and down against his cock, groaning as his tip pressed into that sweet spot he knew how to reach every time. However, given that you were tasked with handling it yourself - it was much different.

Your body ached for him to grab at you - your breasts, your ass, your thighs - something. But instead, Erwin moved his hands from your mouth and linked his fingers behind his head, propping his head up so he could see your little mouth contort into different expressions as you bounced up and down on his dick, clearly humiliated by the fact that you were even having to put in this much work to begin with.

"Very good." He cooed as you placed the palms of your hands on his clothed chest, working at the buttons of his shirt. "Ah - no." Erwin corrected you, grabbing your hands and removing them from his shirt. "I don't think you deserve it. Unbutton your own shirt."

Your ears grew hot as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your eyes were watering and legs were shaking - clearly already tired, as this was obviously something you didn't ever do.

Your shaky fingers unbuttoned the front of your shirt as you continued to bounce on his cock, tight black skirt clinging to your thighs as he looked lazily up at you, once more moving his hands behind his head.

"Take it off."

You slid the shirt off your shoulders, letting it drop at the edge of the bed.

"Now your bra, dear."

Still bouncing, this time more relentlessly, you twisted your arms behind your back - struggling to unclasp your bra but, after a few long seconds of struggling, freed your breasts from its restraints.

"Touch me -" You breathed out as you dropped your bra at the end of the bed with your shirt, "P-Please" You pleaded.

"Hmm . . ." Erwin looked pensive. "No. I don't think you're sorry enough yet." His own breath was becoming labored again, his abdomen flexing and legs twitching as pleasure began to pool in him. The sight of you helplessly bouncing up and down on him, your ass pressing against his pelvis, breasts bouncing up and down as you struggled to keep up the pace that was most pleasurable for you, was absolutely magnificent. "Since you want to touch yourself so bad, why don't you do it yourself? Go ahead, pinch your nipples."

Hesitantly, you gripped at your right breast, letting your thumb roll over your nipple gently and couldn't help but moan as you pinched and pulled at it - desperately trying to receive pleasure from yourself as you continued to rock your hips back and forth - sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you bring your other hand to fondle at your left breast, gripping and squishing at the skin - closing your eyes and pretending it was him playing with your nipples.

Your bouncing became more desperate, frantic even, and a pool of pleasure was beginning to build at your abdomen.

"H-Help . . ." You sputtered out, but Erwin didn't seem to be particularly interested in helping you out, his own breath ragged and shaking. More than anything, he wanted to grab your hips and snap his upwards into yours - but reminded himself that it wasn't about his pleasure but, instead, teaching you a lesson.

"You seem to -" Erwin groaned a bit, "You seem to -" He repeated himself, "Be handling it just fine -"

You bounced more desperately against his cock, his tip smashing easily into your sweet spot as you slid up and down against him with ease, clearly exhausted but still desperate to get something out of this entire punishment.

Before you knew it, the tension in the pit of your stomach had broke and you were gushing all over his dick and your own thighs, your body tensing and shaking as you orgasmed.

Erwin himself hadn't orgasmed - though he came close. In truth, the only times he could orgasm was when he took control himself. But his pleasure hadn't come from the sex itself, but instead watching you desperately and tiredly fuck yourself stupid on his cock, rocking back and forth pathetically as you tried to work for some kind of release.

Besides, bad little playthings that misbehaved didn't deserve to have their pussy dripping with his cum - no matter how desperately they wanted to.

Very gently, he raised you off his cock and helped you lay down beside him.

Slowly, he zipped himself up and leaned himself over on his arms, pressing a very gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I think you've redeemed yourself."

He had half a mind to roll you over onto your stomach and fuck you to sleep - but punishments were punishments for a reason.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed your clothes from the end of the bed, putting them in the hamper before changing into his own pajamas and crawling back under the sheets himself.

Erwin leaned over, placing one more gentle kiss to your cheek before turning over to turn off the lamp at his bedside.

"If you decide to behave, then tomorrow will be a better day."

With that blunt, yet cheeky, comment - he turned the silver finial on the lamp, shutting off the light with a gentle click.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 37

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst 

A/N: aaaa we’re reaching the end in a few chapters and everything is starting to go downhill. hope you enjoy it xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky barely knew Eliza. He knew she was Mr. Powell’s assistant and would mostly keep to herself, being as invisible as she could and only really speaking whenever someone spoke to her. Bucky had said hello to her once or twice, but nothing which he thought would led to her wanting to speak to him in private. It crossed her mind it could be regarding Mr. Powell but Bucky had been fired from being her bodyguard a long time ago and essentially did not pose a threat to him anymore. 

Eliza led him to a sheltered corner of the hall, looking around for anyone she deemed recognisable enough but there was no one. Media had been strictly forbidden to attend the trial and everyone else had pretty much left except for a small handful of people which were much further down, so they were pretty much alone. The young woman fished through her purse before taking off a small USB drive which she handed to him. Bucky furrowed her brows, not taking the USB from her.

     - Mr. Powell is set to testify against you for punching him on a Halloween party tomorrow. It’s a surprise witness but ... I feel bad letting him testify. He doesn’t have her best interest at heart and this USB proves it. 

     - What’s in it?

     - I ... don’t feel comfortable explaining what’s in it but it’s a video and if presented to the jury, it would make him an unreliable witness. - Bucky took the drive from her, putting it inside his jacket’s pocket. - You cannot tell Y/N, I gave you that ... or show it to her. I am really sorry I couldn’t stop it.

     - Stop what?

     - You’ll see. - she walked away leaving him to pounder on her words. Surely, it wasn’t anything bad, he told himself. 

He shook his head out of his worries, thinking about how much he just wanted to return to his wife. To hold her and tell her how much he loved her and try and make her forget what she had just seen. However, he wanted to see what was on that drive. He wanted to see it. He walked down the court hall and spotted one of the consultation rooms was open.

    - Hey Buck, we’re waiting for you. - he turned his head to see Steve walking towards him. - We got some pizzas. 

    - Close the door behind you. - Bucky told him as he walking into the consultation room, finding one of the computers was on. Steve merely did as he said, closing the door and turning on the light before taking a seat on one of the spinning chair. 

    - What are we doing? Are you okay? I know that video was rough. 

    - One of Y/N’s director’s assistants gave me a USB with a video. She asked me not to show Y/N. Sounded weird. 

He connected the drive to the computer. For all he knew, this could be some weird way to get his data if he connected it to his laptop besides with Y/N in the house it would be much harder to hide it from her, not that he exactly knew why he had to hide it from her. As the computer read the drive, a folder opened up with a video file titled with a date. Bucky cocked his head to the side, as he opened the video. It was an almost CCTV quality video of what looked like one the trailers at the trailer park where Y/N had been shooting her last movie. Both Y/N and the director were sat on the couch, a rather large distance between them. The sound quality was poor and muffled but he could hear his wife’s voice as he called the man by her side pathetic. Out of the sudden, Powell wrapped his hand around her neck and pinned her to the couch. He saw red. He could see it, he could see her squirming trying to get free from his hold. Bucky wanted to break through the screen, he wanted to help her, he wanted to stop him, he wanted to stop him but he couldn’t. 

    - Buck ... - Steve said in a warning tone, recognising the look on his face.

Bucky took the driver of the computer and shoved it back in his jacket before leaving the room in a fast pace. Steve tripped over his feet to follow him, watching as the super soldier closed his fist, the plates in his arm moving and whirring and his steps heavy enough they echoed in the hall. Steve ran up to him, standing in front of him and putting a hand on his chest to stop him. 

    - Get out of my way, Steve.

    - You need to calm down, Buck. 

    - Get away from me, Steve. 

    - You cannot get in trouble with anyone even somewhat related to Y/N. I know what you just saw is making you mad and we will deal with it once the time is right. You cannot do anything for your wife if you’re in jail. - Steve’s calm demeanor only made him angrier. - This is one less witness you’ll have to worry about. Y/N is fine but you’re under trial. 

    - Didn’t you fucking see what I saw? He attacked Y/N, he choked her, he could’ve killed her and no one fucking helped her. GET AWAY FROM ME, STEVE. 

Bucky twisted Steve’s hand away and continued his strut down the hall until he saw her. Steve continued to run behind him which warned Sharon who put herself in front of Y/N. Did she think he was going to hurt her? The mere thought of it slowed him down. 

    - How was it with Eliza? - Y/N walked from behind Sharon up to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. - Are you okay, Bucky? 

    - Yeah ... I’m just great, princess. - he swiped the hair away from her neck, his fingers grazing the skin there. He was supposed to protect her, he promised her nothing had happened. How could he’d let this happen? How could Eliza let this happen? Why did no one help her? He leaned his forehead against hers, his finger tracing the end of her jawline before he kissed her. - I love you so much, princess.

    - Are you sure everything is ok? - she held her hand against his face, moving her head slightly to the side wondering why Steve had just ran after him. 

    - Yeah, I’m just tired ... wanna go home. 

    - That’s fine, we can go home. I just need to pay Steve for the pizza.

    - It’s fine, Y/N. - Steve beckoned. - It’s been an harsh day. We’ll see you guys tomorrow. Call us if you need anything, okay?

    - Thank you, Steve. - she left Bucky for a brief second to hug Steve, Sam and Sharon. 

Bucky watched that with a sad look. She was so sweet, so kind and no one had done anything. That sadness quickly turned to anger. He was no longer angry at the trial, he was angry that the agency which was supposed to keep her best interests at heart had left her with a director who had treated her that way. She didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved that. Y/N waved everyone goodbye before going back to her husband, her hand immediately wrapping around his metal hand, the warmth of her skin almost giving him feel in that arm. She almost playfully swung their intertwined hands, leaning her head against his shoulder. He always felt safe to her, he always felt like home to her yet Bucky seemed lost in the middle of his mind, ever so often appearing to have no life behind his eyes. 

The drive was equally silent with his hand looming on her thigh throughout all of the way yet not in his playful or even lustful way, he kept his hand there as if someone was to snatch her at any moment. She doubted it, she was never really attention’s sweet centre, specially in her business. In all honesty, she was the one who should be possessive of him, not the other way around. Nevertheless, he held a possessive grip on her as if she wanted to escape yet it wasn’t jealousy. At least it didn’t appear as jealousy to her and she couldn’t read exactly what it was. The walk up to the flat was the same as the car and the exit from the court with him holding her hand and ensuring the climbed the stairs in front of him, keeping a firm eye on each and every movement. 

Once Bucky closed the door, the possessive and protective aura continued. She held her hands up to his face, cupping it and feeling the slight stubble against her palms before she leaned in to kiss him. It was soft, very soft, the sort of kisses he’d get in the morning from her whenever she had to leave early for interviews. So soft, so warm and filled with love. She was so kind and the world ... the would just ate way at her. 

    - Y/N ... - he broke the kiss, stepping back. - I need to go shower.

She stood there, perplex at his actions and almost frozen in the spot. She threw her bag onto the coach, forgetting about what she had discovered to go into the bathroom. She took her shoes off at the edge of the door stepping into the bathroom which was already filled with hot steam, the glass of the shower steamed with beads of water running down, yet she could see him. Y/N stripped off her dress and underwear, throwing it onto the laundry basket which laid just below the sink. She opened the door of the shower, seeing Bucky with his back turned to her, head looking down as the shower head dropped water like rain onto his hair. She wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against his back. 

     - Tell me what’s wrong. - she peppered skins against his upper back and the scars which connected the metal to his skin. - Please, James. 

     - Nothing’s wrong. - he turned around to hold her, letting the warm water fall upon them both. 

     - Liar. - it sounded so innocent, sprinkled with that little naughty smirk of hers, still decorated in pink lipstick. - You’re my husband. I know you, Bucky Barnes. I know if something wasn’t wrong I would be pinned against the shower wall tiles but I am standing here. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.

     - I promised someone I wouldn’t tell you about something I’ve seen. 

     - Well, I won’t tell anyone. - her chest and hands were flushed against his, streams of water running down both their skins, leaving wet trails in their path. Bucky looked up, letting out a jailed sigh before looking back at her, his hand pushing her now wet hair away from her shoulders to look at her neck, fingers going slightly up and down the skin. - What are you doing?

     - I know what Powell did to you. - he mumbled, almost afraid someone else would hear it. A cold shiver ran down her body and she looked the other way, hand coming up to push her hair in front of her collarbones and cover her neck as if those bruises still laid there. - There’s a video. 

     - What?

     - Eliza gave me the video to use to stop Powell from testifying. It’s not the best quality but it is clear who’s on the tape.

     - Oh ... - she didn’t exactly know what to reply to that. 

Various things crossed her mind on that moment from if anyone had seen the video, if Powell himself had the video to why Eliza had the video. She wondered why Eliza would’ve given him the video, she wondered how the video had even gotten into her hands but most of it she wondered what he felt like. Her stomach churned and she felt guilty for not telling him. After all, a relationship is all about trust and here she was, having something she had hidden come up. It wasn’t she trusted Bucky, she  did, she loved him so much but for whatever reason, one she couldn’t pin point the reason why she did not tell him. Maybe she didn’t want to be a disappointment, maybe she didn’t want him to worry, she didn’t know. She tried to cup his face but Bucky avoided her touch, instead exiting the shower and leaving her there. Her bottom lip dropped as she held in a sharp breathe, turning the shower head pressure up so the noise muffled the few tears that rolled down her face. 

She must’ve been there for a long while as once she finally stepped off the shower her skin felt raw to the touch. She put on her bathrobe, swiping the fog of the mirror to see herself. Taking a few deep breathes in, she slide her palms along her jaw before looking to the marble of the bathroom sink. 

Bucky was sat on the couch, nursing a cold beer and staring at the TV but Y/N could tell he wasn’t paying any attention. He was in Buckyland as she called it, a place where he’d go, inside his mind, and no one but him was allowed in. Not even her. She went up behind him, resting her chin on the top of his head.

    - Talk to me, Bucky. - she kissed the top of his head. - Please, don’t shut me out. 

    - What do you want me to say, princess? - Bucky sighed, hand creeping up to hold hers. - I can’t do anything fucking right. 

    - What is this about? - she walked around the couch to sit on his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder and cuddling him. Bucky leaned his head on top of hers. - I’m so sorry, Bucky. I wanted to tell you, I really did but I didn’t want you to worry after that stupid mission. It was just ... insignificant.

    - I should’ve been there to protect you. 

    - You don’t always need to be there to protect me. As I said it is insignificant but ... it’s good for our case, right?

    - You are the most significant person in my life. You are my wife, you are all that matters, all the time. I don’t want any man touching you or even breathing on top of you if you don’t allow it much less that man. 

    - So ... we’re okay, right?  

    - I didn’t want you to see what they showed in court. I am already a disappointment for the world, I don’t want to be a disappointment to you and after seeing that ...  thing ... I just ... - Bucky seemed to return back to Buckyland for a while. - I don’t have anything to offer you. I don’t know if I can have kids, I don’t know if I can give you more  than a crappy flat in Brooklyn but I knew one thing, I thought I could protect you. I’m a super soldier, for heaven’s sake.  

    - Being a super soldier does not give you the ability to be in two places at the same time. - she caressed his chin. - You do know I love you, not what you can offer me. I like you, I like being your wife and I like you being my husband. 

    - So that’s what you want? Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?

    - You say that as if it is a bad thing. I am not married to the Winter Soldier, I am not married to Sergeant Barnes and I am not married to my bodyguard. I am married to James Buchanan Barnes. I am married to you. I am not expecting anything from you other than waking up and falling asleep with you every single day. You’re the love of my life because you are you not because you protect me. 

    - I should be the one comforting you, princess. - he held her close to him as if someone was to take her away at any point. - God, that just happened to you and I’m here ... whining. 

    - Just happened? It was weeks ago, Bucky. Besides if I give it the attention it  needs, it’ll become a much bigger thing than it needs to be.  

    - It is a big thing, Y/N.

    - I’m an actress, Bucky. It happens ... more than it should but it’s ... fine. Who’d take my word on it even? They won’t even believe me when I tell them my own husband is not harassing me. Imagine them believing a whole industry is. 

    -  You need a better agent. 

    - Are you offering, Barnes? - she teased, giggling against his chest.

    - I’ve been a soldier, a brainwashed assassin, avenger, bodyguard ... I guess I could give it a shot. -  he kissed her forehead. - Are you alright, princess? 

    - Don’t worry. - she looked up to kiss him. - I’ll be fine, Bucky. However, you, Mister, cannot and will not do anything about it while you’re on trial and even when you’re not on trial.

    - I promise you that I will do everything I can to make you happy and safe. I can only do that if I’m out of prison so I promise not to go Winter Soldier on Powell. - he kissed her cheek and then her nose, cuddling her closer to him, no matter how closer she already was. - I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to wake up one day and realise you’re ashamed of me. 

His eyes softened, brows furrowed creating that little crease just in the middle  of his eyebrows and his nose seemed to twitch as if he was telling himself constantly not to cry or look any weaker than he already felt. She leaned her hand against his cheek, finger softly brushing his skin. It was warm, she was always so warm.

    - You need to stop thinking those things about yourself. You can’t change what they made you do, you can’t get that past back but you can live the rest of your life just like you want it. 

    - It’s not that simple.

    - It is, Bucky. And if anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll hurt them back.

    - You will hurt them back?

    - Yes. Sharon taught me how to punch and she said I have a very good aim. I almost managed to punch her. 

    - Why did you ask Sharon to teach you how to punch and not me?

    - Would you have taught me to punch? 

    - No. You don’t need to know how to punch, you could get hurt, someone could hurt you or worse you could break your hand. I’ll do the punching for you.

    - I’ll still do some punching.

    - Alright, princess.

The trial was a circus and not only was the whole ordeal a whole unnecessary mess but the press was having a field day covering both of them. Sam had even offered for the two of them to stay with him, Sarah and his nephews until the dust settled down but the last thing any of the two wanted was to destroy their peaceful life by having paparazzi all over their lawn. Instead, the two of them would only come out of the flat for court dates. While Powell had mostly cowered away once their lawyer threatned to expose the video if he didn’t back down as a witness, Hawthorne hadn’t been very happy with it. He’d mostly sent a very heavy worded e-mail to Y/N but she was much too busy trying to find any cohesive way to prove it was him. She knew he did it, she just couldn’t prove it. All she had was photos from the written mirror in her flat and his signature yet no one would take that in. They would just say it was similar handwriting or that she was imagining things to protect her “abuser” husband. Bucky, Sam, Steve and Sharon were all in the dark about it as she had chosen not to tell any of them what was happening. It was just a theory, just a silly theory and if it wasn’t true, she knew Hawthorne would go after all of them and she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. She was already the reason Bucky was in court, being called things that no victim and no person should be called. She was the reason the prosecution was revisiting his choice less past and pinning it on him as a reason to not have a regular life. If she didn’t know better, they  were upset about his pardon. 

Things seemed to progress fast with court days going on and on until they woke up in the morning of the last one. She knew he was nervous, she’d heard him in the phone with Steve and Sam before yet he put on this strong facade as if things would be ok but she herself had started to doubt it. The jury was biased, that much she knew and after all, the decision was theirs. The court room was silent as the prosecution finished their closing statement but she could read the environment. Everyone’s eyes bore at her husband as if he was a criminal and those who spoke didn’t speak in kind words. 

   - Does the defence have any closing statements? - the jury asked their lawyer who stood up and faced him. 

   - No, your honour but the defendant would like to address the jury.

   - I’ll allow it. - the jury beckoned and Bucky got up to face the jury. She wanted so much to jump from that bench and hold his hand but all she could do was remain there, watching him and giving him an encouraging smile whenever he looked her way.

   - Listen, uhm ... - Bucky scratched his neck, searching for the right words to say. - I know you don’t like me, trust me I don’t like myself either but I love my wife. I would never, ever hurt her and if she hadn’t wanted me then I would’ve been fine with that because ... look at her she’s the most intelligent, kind and warm woman I’ve ever met and I know she deserves better than me. I tried telling her a million times that she deserves the perfect movie man who has a stable job and isn’t over a hundred but for whatever reason she still decided to marry me and I am gonna spend the rest of my life trying to even be half the man she deserves. I would never hurt her even if someone forced me too. 

He sat down again and Y/N shimmied to the front of her bench to hold his hand through the wood bars that separated her from him. The judge excused everyone while the jury went to make their decision. Y/N excused herself to go speak to the lawyer while Sam and Steve kept Bucky occupied. 

   - You know, you do look a lot like your father. - he said as she approached him. - Never thought about going into the family business?

   - And deal with my siblings every day? I wouldn’t wish it. 

   - Is there anything you need?

   - I have a question to ask you but you can’t tell Bucky I asked you about it. 

   - I always have confidentiality with any of my clients so I wouldn’t tell him anything you’d ask me. What is it?

   - Do you think we’re gonna win? - she picked at the hem of her dress, stress filling her veins.

   - I don’t know. The jury is biased and without any evidence they’ll make their decision based on their opinions. We can always contest it but right now I think you’d do best spending some time with your husband now.

Everything needed to slow down as she walked away from the lawyer and she could hear her heels echoing on the wooden floors.  She saw Bucky laugh at something Sam had said yet she couldn’t hear him laugh, she could only see and as she saw it, she looked at the ring around her finger, the same ring he had on his finger too before turning her head harshly to where Hawthorne was standing. Suddenly sound came back and her steps quickened as she approached the head of her agency. 

   - We need to talk. - she said interrupting his conversation with Miss Olson. 

   - What about? - he spoke in his collected tone which only further angered her. 

    - Alone.

She followed him into one of the reunion rooms, hands fumbling with her phone just before closing the door behind her. She realised she didn’t really know what to say, she hadn’t prepared herself for it and she certainly wasn’t a natural. All she knew was to try, try and right now she was gonna try, she was gonna try for Bucky. 

   - I know you did it. - she tried speaking with an unwavering voice but it came out almost like a wave.

   - Excuse me? - he leaned against the wall, mocking her. - Did what?

   - Bucky couldn’t have done it, that night in my flat. He was in Brooklyn and then he was stuck in traffic that morning, there’s footage of it. He could’ve never gone to my flat when he dropped me off at 4 AM and then be stuck in traffic. I know it’s your handwriting, it’s like the one on the contract. Besides, no one knew my flat address other than Bucky and Miss Olson and not even Bucky or Miss Olson knew my family address. You did it. You know you did it. 

    - You’re clearly mental unstable but it’s okay because me and Miss Olson will get you the help we need after we get the marriage annulled. 

   - Stop. - she said. - You know no one else will believe me so at least tell me truth. Tell me how you screw up my husband’s life. 

    - Don’t be dramatic, Y/N. It wasn’t to mess up your husband’s life. Do you know how much money we invested on you? For you to destroy your image by going out with an American traitor? You think you could’ve gotten this role without me? You think you could be anything out of your little shows without me? You’re a good actress but take a look at yourself, you’re hardly what men want. You wanna break it into the business? Be hot or have connections and it turns out you can’t do both. That audition you did in London you tried to hide? Who did you think they called to give the news? Oh and if you’re wondering, it was a no. 

   - Did you do it? - she tried to maintain her cool but she knew she looked meek and she looked pathetic.

   - I thought with your Nancy Drew speech you knew the answer.

   - Did you or did you not? 

   - I did but who’s gonna believe you?

   - I don’t know. -  she opened the door, holding the knob in her hand as she pressed play on her phone, his voice saying he did it playing and echoing in the empty room. - They won’t believe me but they will believe you. 

   - Don’t toy with me, Y/N. I’ll make sure you never get a single job here or anywhere else. I’ll bring you down.

   - Maybe but if I’m going down, you are going down with me.

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[jerrienelock]

Colours- Perrie Edwards

Colourless, dreary, dull.

The words that describe the life of someone who hasn't found their soulmate. Having to see the world in a greyscale when those who have found theirs could bask in the beauty of the pulsating colourful scenery that the world ever so kindly left them to admire- nature showing off their bright vibrant greens, oceanic blues and violent reds.

Perrie was one of those people- soulmateless and only seeing the world through a black and white picture printed on an old newspaper. Her dream was, is and forever will be to see the world in those precious beautiful colours that everyone gloats about.

"That's red."- Leigh-Anne shakes her head at the blonde who had picked up a red crayon instead of a blue.

Perrie throws her head back in annoyance, stomping her foot slightly on the ground. Although the girl couldn't necessarily see colour, she had taken it up to try and at least denote what colour connotes to which grey she could see, with the help from both Leigh-Anne and Jade but it just wasn't working, she would ask Jesy but the brunette was never straightforward as to what she could see- one second it would be colour and she would drone on about the faint greens and the mystic blues of a butterfly that would flutter by, and the next she would complain about how miserable life is looking at the same blank canvas every day for the last twenty-nine years. Perrie had a feeling that the girl just didn't want anyone to know the truth about what she could see- that maybe her colours were different to Jade and Leigh-Anne's or that the thought of her maybe not having a soulmate simply drowning her in her own fantasy of what she dreams it will look like.

Although Perrie appreciated the fact that her friends were trying their best to teach her, it was just so infuriating how the blonde had trouble to grasp which was which- they all were so similar and she felt like giving up each time. It was just a small thing to help prepare her for when she is faced with the actual thing.

Leigh-Anne shuffles the small crayons back into their pack, sending the blonde a sympathetic look. -"We'll continue tomorrow, let's get to hair and makeup."

Leigh-Anne puts the pack to one side and the two head off to the makeup room, where Jade was just pushing herself out of the chair that laid neatly in front of a mirror. Perrie smiles at her bandmate watching as Jade flicks her hair back while throwing a wink at the two.

Perrie takes her seat in the lone chair- resting her back flat against the backside. The room looked so empty, now that it was just the three of them in the band. Since the departure of Jesy, she had felt like she lost a piece of her. Though they were all still good friends with Jesy, it was just still so unusual for the group to carry on as a trio, but just the thought of abandoning the mixers because of Jesy leaving left an unwanted sense of guilt and sadness bellowing at the pit of her belly. At least Jesy will be out there in the audience supporting their first tour as a three.

Adam, the makeup artist appears behind Perrie and flicks through his makeup kit- in search of the perfect shade of lipstick for the blonde, an earth red colour that brought out the natural pink of her cheeks. He proceeds to coat the girl's lips in it, before swiftly moving on to dash some foundation and concealer onto her cheeks and forehead.

All throughout the process, the blonde just stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes drifting over her various different shades of grey her features proudly sported. Her eyes were the lightest of them all, just barely winning against her hair. She hoped that whatever colour they were to be, it would be something nice- like the colour blue that Jade seems to fawn over whenever she talks to the blonde.

Adam pulls Perrie's head down slightly, -"Close your eyes really quickly."

Perrie does as told and she can just barely feel the touch of the bristles on the makeup brush travelling across her closed eyes in a swift formation. As soon as Adam takes the brush away, Perrie peaks her eyes open.

"What's the colour?"- She questions peering at the makeup artist beneath her barely open eyes. Adam continues to apply the eyeshadow, running the brush delicately over the top of the blondes eyelid.

"Pink" He smiles, -"With a hint of red."

"Can you describe it?"

He ponders for a moment, -"Well the pink is lighter than the red and it blends so smoothly with it. It makes your eyes pop."

"I can't wait to see it for myself."- Perrie smiles cheerfully, allowing the man to finish her off so he can move on to do Leigh-Anne before the first act finishes. -"Who knows. Maybe it'll happen during the concert."

Adam laughs turning to get the makeup he uses on Leigh-Anne out.

Soon the hair and makeup were done and the three girls were ushered to the platform where they'll be descended up onto the stage.

They get ready in their starting stance and the platform starts to lift allowing the muffled cheers and music to get louder and louder.

The first show of the tour so far was a blast for three, the ecstatic screams of the fans each fueling them with adrenaline and dopamine that would last for days on end.

But still, there was no sign of any colour for Perrie- sure she was beginning to doubt she'd ever see colour despite the arena being filled with thousands and thousands of people that could potentially be her soulmate, but she didn't let that push her mood down as she still had more than enough time to find them.

The trio had just finished their second to the last song, and Leigh-Anne was busy beginning to introduce the final song of the show.

"Now this is a song that feeds the message about you feeling good about yourself." Leigh-Anne smiles, her voice echoing through the loudspeakers. -"No matter the size you are, no matter how look..."

Perrie scans the rows of cheerful fans down in the pit, still listening intently to the words her bandmate was saying to introduce the song. Perrie continues to scan the rows of audiences of different heights, shapes and sizes and different tones of grey.

And then the starry dull colour of the world faded- replaced with bright vibrant rays of colour- that she couldn't recognise for her life- that burst through every gap in the audience in front of her. The lights above shone clear dancing over the arena. Perrie's heart thumped hard as the realisation of what was happening hits her.

"Oh my god."- She yells in excitement disrupting Leigh-Anne's cheery speech. Both Jade and Leigh-Anne turn to the blonde confused, -"Colour."- Perrie continues to yell turning to grab hold of Jade, shaking her, -"I can see colour!"

Tears brim in her eyes as she then proceeds to engulf the small brunette in a hug that lifts the girl off her feet. -"This is amazing!"- Perrie cheers dropping Jade onto the ground before shifting her attention to admire everything. -"But I guess the lessons we had been having weren't working out, none of these colours I can put a name to."- She frowns.

"We'll teach you."- Leigh-Anne reassures the girl, -"But right now, that's the least of your worries. You just found your freaking soulmate!"

"Oh no."- Perrie freezes her gaze darting back out into the direction where her colour first came to. -"I just found them, but I don't know who they are."

Panic starts to surround her and she tries to place who she looked at, but she just couldn't remember- the excitement about the whole ordeal had blurred out the placement of them.

Slowly the vibrant colours she had been able to see for the first time in her life, starts to dull and she sprints towards the edge of the stage in frantic. She had barely even had the time to bask in the beauty of the moment and it already was coming to an end. Worry and tears cloud her vision as she tries her hardest to find her soulmate.

"Perrie!"- An all too familiar voice shouts frantic off to the side of the stage. Instantly her head snaps to the side where Jesy is seen in the audience waving and pointing to you next to her. Your eyes wide not believing anything happening at that moment.

Perrie hurriedly runs over to you and Jesy, slipping off the stage carefully not to injure herself due to the height of it and into the gap where the security guards are. Perrie looks at you and gasps- the slowly greying world bursting out into colour for the second time that night.

"I found you!"- She pulls you into a hug over the metal barricade, she buries her head into the crook of your neck feeling your hands hesitantly snake around the top of her waist. -"I finally found you."

*** Masterlist; Celebrities

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Be My Valentine?

AO3 Link: Read here

Square Filled: Squirting

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 8,770 (oops. Sorry).

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: It’s Dean and Y/N’s first Valentine’s Day, and he has a romantic evening planned, with surprises which he can’t wait to share with her.

Warnings: So much fluff. Like, so much. Dean being sweet and romantic (yes, that’s a warning). And then so much smut. Swearing, Dirty talk, D/S elements, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex (Female receiving), Vaginal fingering, Squirting, Gags, Brief impact play (belt), Restraints (belt), Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, guys), Rough sex. More fluff.

Music: Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton (Dean and Y/N street scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist 

Created for @spnkinkbingo

A/N: The first time stamp*! Wooo! I’m so excited for you guys to read it, I really hope you love it, because I sure had a great time writing these two again, all loved up and ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

*This is a time stamp for my series Life’s Lessons so it’ll make more sense if you’ve read that first, but I do think it can enjoyed as a sweet and smutty Valentine’s Day fic! ;)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

Dean stood at the kitchen bench and smirked as he stared down at the date on his phone. The coffee brewed in the machine behind him, as sunlight streamed in through the little picture window. It the most important date on the calendar that all couples go through, and he was excited.

It was February 14th. Valentine’s Day. The designated day you show the person you love most how much they mean to you. This time around was going to be the most special this little holiday had ever been for him, because this time around he had a woman who was truly, undoubtedly, his.

Y/N was the woman he had been waiting for and he couldn’t wait to make tonight a great night for both of them.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee and some for her in a travel mug, Y/N walked into the kitchen, dressed in a tight, high-waisted pastel pink skirt and white shirt, with a small white with pink polka dots scarf tied into a bow under the collar of the shirt. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she had her red glasses on. Dean felt his body heat up, knowing how much he enjoyed her fulfilling his teacher fantasy, so much so that whenever she got dressed for work, he always needed to calm himself down.

Y/N smiled at him as she walked over, kissing him softly as he slid a plate across the bench, some toast and a little bacon which he had already made, ready for her.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him again before digging into her breakfast.

“No problem.” He smiled as he leaned against the bench, facing her. He continued to drink his coffee as she ate, both of them in content silence.

“I’ve got a half day today,” he informed her. “Ready to take you out tonight and tomorrow off, too.”

She smiled, unable to hide how excited she was for their night out. He was being incredibly secretive, and she was dying to know.

She ate quickly, washing up her plate once she was done. As she walked away from the sink, she laughed as Dean took her hand in his, pulling her against him. Whenever they had a few spare moments in the morning, this is how they spent it.

“So… what are you planning?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she looked up at him.

He smirked, shaking his head as his hands rested on her hips. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out later.”

She frowned, a small pout forming on her lips. “There’s no such thing as secrets on Valentine’s Day.”

She knew it wasn’t true, but she just wanted him to tell her what he was planning so that she could coordinate her lingerie accordingly.

“Babe, don’t start making crap up just because you’re curious.” He called her out, throwing his head with a boisterous laugh as she stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open in shock.

“Well, then I guess it’s just going to be you and your hand tonight,” she threw back, feigning upset.

“Hey,” he warned, staring down at her as he pulled her closer. “Do that and you won’t find out what I have planned.”

“Fine,” she sighed, as she rolled her eyes. Looking at him, the frown returned but with a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re really annoying, sometimes.”

“I know,” he shrugged with a grin. “But you love me.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, unable to pretend anymore. “Fortunately.”

“Very fortunately,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. He bent down further, kissing her neck which made her groan, sadly.

“I’m going to be late for work,” she said, pushing him away slightly.

He moved back down, attaching his mouth to her neck again. “I was about to give it to ya good and proper, sweetheart,” he mumbled against her skin, between kisses.

She laughed as she lightly pushed him again, kissing him softly on his pout. “You can do that tonight. A good, proper,” she kissed him again, “hard, rough,” another kiss, “fucking of a lifetime.”

He groaned, closing his eyes as he thought about what he had planned for them. She really had no idea what was going on and he was excited for her to find out.

“You’re so on, baby,” he muttered, before pulling her into a searing kiss.

She reluctantly pulled away from him, frowning. “I better go.”

“See you tonight,” he said, smirking at her.

“I can’t wait,” she smiled, leaning in and kissing him again.

Dean watched on as Y/N picked her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her keys in her hand. She slipped on her nude heels as she picked up her fawn coat, turning and blowing him a kiss before walking out the door. He smirked as he thought about what she just said, and how he could incorporate it into the night he had planned. After she had made his birthday one that he would never forget, he didn’t want to wait for so long until hers to do the same.

Luckily, the most romantic day of the year was upon them, and it was the perfect opportunity to make it a memorable night for both of them. He had never really believed in a day to celebrate love, considering he never had much luck with it in the past, but now he was thankful to whoever decided to profit from February 14th and made it a big deal.

Dean got ready for the day and headed to work. He was happy knowing there wasn’t much to do that day with his half day of work. He was relieved when Y/N had managed to take leave for the next day just like him, knowing that his plan would succeed. After the big restoration job that he had told her about months ago had been paid them in full by the customer, they were doing amazingly well at the garage. It had been a lot of money and there was more than enough to go around. Dean was able to pull out all the stops for the night. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face at work, getting questioning looks from Benny, Garth, some of the other guys and even Ellen. The guys teased him all day, but he paid no attention to it. If they had a woman as wonderful as he did, they’d have a huge smile on their face all day too.

Y/N smoothed down her maroon, velvet, off-shoulder, knee-length dress as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had contemplated the style for a long time in the store a few days ago, wondering if she should go for a brighter red or shorter, but this caught her eye straight away. She just hoped Dean would like it. She also hoped he would like her strapless bra and panties set, of the same dark colour. She kept her eye make-up simple but went with a slightly dark red shade for the lipstick, and gave her hair a slight wave, sweeping it over one shoulder. She gave herself a nod as she smiled at her complete look in the mirror.

Y/N heard the front door opening, signalling that Dean had arrived, even if he was a little early. With one last check in the mirror, she picked up the gift she had for him from her bed and walked out of her room, her black heels clacking on the wooden floors. As soon as she saw him, her heart skipped a beat. He wore black dress pants and loafers, with a maroon sweater. He looked so unbelievably gorgeous that she just had to stand there for a few more seconds to appreciate him. He had his hands behind his back, and she knew it had to be something for Valentine’s Day.

“Who clued you in on maroon?” she laughed as she approached him.

“I… may have snuck a peek in the bag when you brought it home,” he replied, smirking as he took her in. She looked incredible and he was going to have a hard time keeping things PG for the first part of the night. “You look amazing.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” she whispered against his lips as she leaned in and kissed him, softly. “This is very couple-y of us, though” she joked.

He shrugged, laughing. “It’s Valentine’s, baby.”

With that, he brought his arms forward, showing her the bouquet of lilies (she wasn’t a fan of roses; too overrated) and the heart-shaped box, no doubt filled with little chocolates.

“Be my Valentine?” he asked, chuckling.

She shook her head, laughing at his goofiness. “Of course.” She took the items from him and handing him his.

He smiled as he took it, quickly unwrapping the red wrapping around the small box. Opening it, he lifted the coffee mug out, smirking at the design. It was him and Y/N in animated form, with her leaning in to kiss his cheek, a little heart above their heads.

“That’s cute,” he said, smiling at her.

“It’s not too cheesy, is it? We said things that didn’t cost much, and this was relatively inexpensive. All I had to do was give the artist a picture of us, and she did the rest,” she explained, wondering if he really did like it and wasn’t just making her feel better.

“No, it’s not. I love it, really,” he reassured her.

She leaned in, happily letting him cup her face in his hands and pull her into a steamy kiss. It was over quicker than she would’ve liked, but as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a spark that wasn’t there before.

“Okay… put those in water and then pack a bag. Just essentials, clothes for tomorrow, that’s it” he instructed, rubbing his hands together.

She frowned, blinking a few times as she made sure she heard him right. “What?”

“Part of the surprise,” he said, not giving her anything else as he gestured to his watch.

“Okay…” she huffed as she snapped out of her trance, her mind reeling as she tried to figure out where he was taking her.

After putting the lilies in a small vase with water, Y/N went into her room and quickly packed a bag. Just her skincare and clothes for the next day were all she needed. She really had no idea what Dean was doing or where he was taking her, but she was now even more restless to find out.

Walking back into the living area, she saw Dean waiting by the door. He smirked as he reached for her bag, dragging it out for her as she picked up her purse and put on her black coat, locking the door behind her. Dean put her case in the trunk and then proceeded to open the passenger door for her. She snuck a quick kiss before she sat, putting her purse in her lap. Dean was on the driver’s side in a flash, quickly taking his seat and starting the engine.

“So… still no hint?” she asked, smiling through her impatience.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Fine,” she sighed, sitting back in her seat properly as Dean pulled away from the curb.

She decided to stop asking. He always said he wasn’t great with romantic gestures but that he was trying with her, and she really appreciated that about him. He was expanding his comfort zone even though he didn’t have to. He wanted to.

They asked each other about their days as Dean drove towards the city. The anticipation for their night was overwhelming, and he was glad that Y/N kept talking. No doubt distracting herself just as much as him. As they reached their destination, he saw her eyes light up as he parked the car outside the restaurant, their first stop.

“Dean!” she exclaimed as she turned to him. “This is already too much! More than what we agreed on!”

He smirked, knowing that the fancy Italian place was one that she had wanting to go to for a while. It was definitely pricey, but his latest customer was making tonight possible. He really had to find a way to thank the guy.

“Not tonight it’s not.” He winked at her as he opened his door and got out of the car, a squeak coming from the hinges as he shut it.

He walked around the front and to her side, opening the door for her. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes as she stood up and looked at the building, suddenly launching herself into Dean.

“I’ve told you before; I don’t need all of this to make me happy. You know that, right?” she asked, frowning slightly. She was worried that he may feel like he needed to do this just to make things special.

“Yeah, I do, sweetheart,” he replied, as he pulled back slightly from their embrace to look at her. “But if I can afford it, then why the hell not?”

“And you’re sure you can?” she asked, a frown still etched on her face.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes! Y/N, we wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. We did fucking great because of that big restoration job. Trust me.”

He had to wonder how she would react for the next part of the surprise if she was already shocked by the restaurant. Hopefully once he reassured her it was fine, and that he wasn’t doing this when he couldn’t afford it, she would relax.

“Okay.” A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before it grew.

Dean smiled wide as he saw her face light up. He held out his hand for her, ready to start their night. “Let’s go.”

Y/N took Dean’s hand instantly, linking their fingers together as they walked to the entrance of the Italian restaurant. As they made their way in and Dean gave them his name, they were immediately led to a table in the back, away from most of the chatter of patrons. Dean helped Y/N with her coat, draping it over the back of her chair, doing the same with his. She smiled as she sat down across from him, causing him to smile back. His eyes wandered up and down as he looked at her, taking in her beauty. She always looked stunning, no matter whether it was casual or a bit dressier.

A waiter brought over the wine list, which Dean discreetly handed over to Y/N considering that wasn’t something he knew anything about. She gave him a wink as she looked over several pages before deciding. Dinner was far more delicious than either of them were expecting, so between the great wine and even better food, Dean was very happy he brought her here.

Once dinner was cleared, and the chocolate cake they ordered to share for dessert arrived (after he lamented that there was no pie), Dean let her dig in first as he folded his arms on the table, watching her. He smirked as she stabbed a piece with the fork and held it out to him. He winked at her as he took the bite, seeing her visibly shiver. He chuckled to himself as he chewed, watching her drop her head and focus on the cake.

“Stop,” she laughed, trying to avoid his intense gaze. He was trying to kill her; she knew he was.

“Can’t,” he said, joining in with her laughter.

They both continued to devour the cake until there wasn’t even a crumb left, both sitting back as the waiter cleared the plate and glasses.

After paying, Dean took Y/N’s hand in his and left the restaurant. Their walk down the street turned into a relaxed stroll, enjoying the glow of the city lights despite the cold weather of February. As they continued towards the car, a group of street musicians was playing, also not bothered by the chill in the air. As they continued to play, Dean slowly spun Y/N around, causing her to laugh in surprise at his sudden gesture. His hands slipped down to her waist and pulled her close as he began to sway them to the music, looking into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to break her gaze away from him. The slow melody of the familiar song caused them to get lost in each other, blocking out the noise of the street and cars rushing by.

In his arms, Y/N felt safe. She felt as if nothing bad could happen to her, ever again. She felt like Dean would always be there to hold her up and never let her fall. He would never hurt her, knowing her past and making sure she never felt that way ever again. She thanked all forms of a higher power every day for bringing this man into her life.

In her arms, Dean had never felt more loved. With her, he had everything he ever wanted in life. Love, comfort, passion – feeling wanted. Someone who would never make him feel any less than he was. He knew how lucky he was to have her.

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, the kiss becoming deeper and more passionate as he pulled her a little closer. Y/N’s hands combed into his hair at the back of his head as she kissed him. After a moment, Dean pulled away from her caress, his breathing slightly heavier.

“Come on,” he grinned, moving away from her and taking her hand in his again, leading her down the street.

As he drove, Dean’s mind kept swimming with possibilities of what would happen next. He looked over at Y/N, smiling at her as she gazed up at the city lights from the window, completely oblivious to the thoughts that were going through his head. He watched as she frowned, the destination now right in front of them. She looked up at the sign, gasping loudly. He had brought them to one of the best hotels in the city and her heart began to beat just a little faster.

“Oh my god!” she yelled, looking at him as he pulled into the valet parking of the hotel. He got out and walked over to the trunk, taking out her small suitcase and pulling it for her, as she got out of the car.

Y/N stood in shock as she watched him warn the valet about the car, and then hand over the keys. As the Impala rolled away towards the main parking, she looked at Dean and shook her head as she walked over to him.

“Dean, this is-” she started but he stopped her as he took her hand and tugged on it, softly.

“Save it for upstairs, sweetheart.” He smirked as he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

They walked towards the entrance, a doorman opening the glass door for them.

“Where’s your stuff?” she asked, as she suddenly noticed he lacked an over-night bag.

“I checked us in during the day after work, before I picked you up,” he replied, as he walked them through the huge lobby and towards the elevators.

Y/N marvelled as she looked around. Her stomach flipped as she couldn’t believe she was in such a swanky place.

The elevator arrived; announced by a soft ding as the doors opened. Dean stepped in with Y/N by his side, pressing the button for their floor. Y/N looked over at him, unable to contain her smile as the elevator moved up the floors. Dean leaned over, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, passionately. She hummed as she grabbed the lapels of his black coat, pulling him closer. They broke away from each other, however, when the elevator stopped, letting in another couple. They were slightly older and both of them grimaced as they witnessed the young couple with their lips locked. It was the clichéd scene you would see in every rom-com or steamy romance, but neither of them cared.

Once they reached their floor, they left the elevator and walked down the hallway. Dean walked a little ahead of Y/N, wheeling her suitcase behind him. He reached their room, taking out the room card and sliding it in, the beep and green light signalling he could open the door. Y/N walked in, as he held it for her and quickly slipped the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign onto the handle, closing the door behind her.

If Y/N was smiling before, then she was practically beaming as she walked further into the room. The big window overlooked the gardens outside, and the room held a chic armchair with Dean’s brown leather duffle sitting on it, a round ottoman in front the armchair, a large bed with crisp white sheets, big pillows and royal blue cushions. Rose petals were scattered over the sheets with a tray that held little chocolates, an ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne and two champagne glasses on it, at the centre of the bed.

Y/N’s felt Dean’s arms wrap around her waist as he stood behind her, pulling her close to his body. She sighed contently, leaning her head against his chest.

“I know you’re not a fan of roses, but this is all they had,” he informed her, softly in her ear.

She shook her head, turning around to face him and instantly wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s perfect. I love it so much.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yes,” she sighed, smiling up at him. “I love you so much, Dean Winchester. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for loving me.”

“Well, you make it real easy, sweetheart,” he said, smirking.

“You make it easy to love you, too,” she whispered against his lips, and kissed him once, twice.

“So… champagne?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes,” she replied, without missing a beat.

Dean moved away from her, shrugging off his coat and draping it over the armchair. Y/N took off her coat and hung it up in the closet, taking a chance to look around the room. She wandered into the bathroom, biting her lip to keep from grinning as she saw the bathtub filled with water and rose petals along the surface. She fully intended to make use of it later. The bathroom also had another ice bucket and champagne with glasses kept near the tub, along with some chocolate covered strawberries, making her shiver at the possibilities of what could happen.

Y/N walked back out to the main part of the room, watching Dean open the wrapping from the top of the champagne bottle. He held the bottle carefully as he twisted the cork, letting out a “son of a bitch!” when it popped loudly. He poured some in each glass and handed her one as he took the other, his other hand slipping into hers. They looked into each other’s eyes as they clinked their glasses together.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he said, smirking.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean,” she sighed, her eyes sparkling with love as she looked at him.

As they both took a few sips, it was clear that no matter how great the champagne was, that wasn’t where their focus was at that moment. As Dean looked at Y/N, he knew he couldn’t waste another minute not touching her. In one big gulp, he downed the champagne and placed the glass on the tray. He moved it off the bed and placed it on the ottoman, turning back to her to see she had emptied her glass as well. She walked over to the ottoman slowly, the swing in her hips seductive and teasing him. As she bent down to put the glass on the tray, the curve of her ass looked glorious in her tight dress, leaving him powerless to resist.

Dean walked up behind Y/N, his hands slowly moving over the curve, feeling the soft velvet of her dress. He moved them up to her hips, swiftly pulling them back to meet his. Y/N bit her lip as she pressed her back to his chest, feeling his cock begin to stir through the fabric of his pants.

“You have no idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered in her ear and placed a small kiss behind it.

She shivered as she felt his hands move up her body, lightly grazing over her breasts before moving back down to her hips. She took his hands and moved them up again, cupping her breasts and causing a soft moan to leave her lips. She smiled mischievously as she began to grind her hips back into his, feeling him become more aroused. Dean had instant flashes back to their first date, the night she did exactly the same thing on her front porch.

He suddenly flicked her hands off his and moved them down, grasping her hips and halting them. “You think you can do that again, sweetheart… you’re wrong.”

“Dean,” she whined, her frustration getting the better of her. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling herself getting wet between her legs already.

“Tonight, is all about you,” he told her as his hands moved to the back of her dress. He grasped the zip, pulling it down at a teasing pace. “Tonight… you’re all mine.”

A whimper left her lips as the dress opened in the back, and Dean’s pace suddenly changed. He roughly pulled at the dress, shoving it down her body and letting it fall to pool around her feet.

Turning them around, Dean faced Y/N towards the large mirror on the wall. He admired her dark red, lacy push-up bra, matching lace panties and black thigh-high stockings, as his hands roamed her soft skin. Their eyes met in the mirror, causing Dean to smirk at her and give her a wink. His right hand travelled down her body and over the lace of her panties, his fingers lightly teasing over her skin and the seam of the fabric. Her breath hitched in her throat as her left hand moved forward, trying to reach for his. She gasped as he roughly grabbed it and held it down by her hip, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to keep from moving.

“Only I get to touch you, Y/N,” he said, not breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. His hand moved down between her legs, his fingers rubbing along the lace and feeling her wetness through the material. She moaned, pressing her lips together to keep herself quiet.

“Already so wet for me,” he groaned, continuing to move his fingers in a moderate pace. “But… I want you practically dripping.”

Y/N moaned wantonly as Dean removed his hand and made quick work of taking off her panties, bending down behind her as they slid down to her feet. He helped her step out of each heel and her panties, smirking as an idea came to him once the fabric was in his hand. He quickly slipped them into his pants pocket as he took her hand and guided her towards the bed. Staring into his eyes, she saw them darken even more as he lifted his hands to her shoulders and pushed her, a squeal leaving her as her back hit the bed. The scattered rose petals bounced around, breaking the even pattern, as she moved up slightly on the bed and pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.

Y/N smiled as she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving him as he lifted up his sweater and pulled his arms through, throwing it on the floor. He did the same with the white t-shirt he wore underneath as he moved closer to the bed. She reached over and hooked her fingers into the top of his pants, desperate to feel him against her. Before she could start working on the belt, he grabbed her hand with a firm grip.

“What did I say about touching, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough and authoritative.

A shiver ran down her spine as she looked up at him, unable to speak. His eyes were dark, and his face was unreadable, a commanding air around him. He was dominating in bed but never quite like this, and that had her excited to see what he would do.

Dean’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her, unbuckling his belt and sliding it through the loops. He gathered it in his hand and waved it at her. “One more time and I’ll have to use this.”

She nodded, still too stunned at his demeanour to speak. She breathed heavily as the anticipation got to her, wondering what his next move would be.

Dean placed the belt on the bed, close enough to reach for it when he needed. He quickly rid himself of his shoes and the rest of his clothes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers, dropping them on the edge of the bed. His cock twitched, hard and leaking pre-cum which she desperately wanted a taste of. He knelt on the bed, swiftly picking up both of Y/N’s legs and holding them up. He made quick work of taking off her stockings, rolling them down her legs and pulling them off, before leaning down and kissing her, roughly. She moaned into his mouth as she fisted the sheets in her hands, knowing she couldn’t touch him or herself. Dean continued to roughly kiss her as he reached under her and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her body and flinging it across the room without looking.

Dean made a rough path of kisses down Y/N’s jaw and neck, reaching her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the nub and pinched the other between his fingers. She moaned, throwing her head back, incredibly desperate to lift her hands and place them on his head to bring him closer. He continued his path down her body, finally reaching between her legs. She looked down to see him wink at her, his tongue slowly flicking out as it grazed her sex.

“Dean” she whimpered as she tried to move closer to his mouth.

Before she could say anything else, his head dipped down, his mouth covering her folds completely. His hands grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders roughly, causing a shocked huff to leave her lips.

“Oh my god,” she gasped loudly, her fingers clenching the sheets. “D-Dean, yes.”

His tongue moved over her clit in tight circles as his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, pulling her even closer. He moved his tongue up and down her folds, her juices coating his mouth as he moaned at the taste of her. She choked out a whimper at the vibration that ran through her as she looked down at him, their eyes meeting.

Pulling away slightly, he looked at her as he sucked at her clit. “Taste so fucking good, sweetheart.”

“Dean, please,” she begged, looking into his eyes. “Please, more.”

“Patience, Y/N,” he playfully scolded, smirking at her.

He continued to lap at her folds, the sounds of his moans and her wetness getting to her. She needed to touch him, but if she did, he’d restrain her. She wanted nothing more than to risk it and tug on his hair like she loved doing, but she couldn’t. He smirked against her as he continued his ministrations, lifting his right hand and inserting a finger into her wet canal.

“Shit, yes” she cried loudly, unable to stay quiet despite being in a hotel room.

“You like that, gorgeous?” he asked as he pulled away briefly, inserting another finger. He thrusted them in and out, his pace quick as she became wetter.

“Yes,” she gasped, nodding frantically. “Yes, I-I love it.”

He gave her a cocky chuckle as he took her swollen nub in his mouth again, his eyes never leaving her. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of her, his tongue licking at the bundle of nerves. He watched as her hands left the sheets and cupped over her mouth, her moans muffled under them.

Dean kissed and sucked at her clit, his fingers sliding in and out of her as he moved them along her walls quickly. Y/N’s hands barely covered her mouth, her moans loud as she couldn’t control herself anymore. He reached for his pants and quickly took her panties out of the pocket, knowing that if she got louder, she would need them.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he said as he placed the lace near her lips.

Y/N opened her mouth and let him slowly work the material in.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he looked down at her. His cock throbbed at the sight of her mouth stuffed with her dark red panties. He continued to work his fingers into her, picking up the pace. Her moans came out stifled around the fabric in her mouth, as she urgently grabbed at the sheets again.

Dean worked his fingers into Y/N, his pace getting quicker as they began to hit her g-spot with precision. He lifted her leg onto his shoulder as he sat up on his knees, his fingers never slowing. Y/N got louder despite her panties acting as a gag, her eyes shut tightly as she let out a string of muffled moans. He could feel her getting wetter with every passing second.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, sweetheart. All spread out for me, desperate to cum,” he grunted as he worked his fingers at a faster speed. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”

She nodded wildly, too scared to open her eyes and look at him. She could feel something building inside of her, the coil in her stomach tighter than it ever had been, as if it was holding something at bay. She could hear how wet she was as he worked the digits inside her at a frantic speed, the squelching noises louder than her moans.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She cried out around the fabric in her mouth, the only way she could communicate at that point. Hearing him call her that always drove her crazy. He felt his fingers getting wetter, knowing she was closer than ever.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned; his fingers moving so quickly he could barely see them. “Fuck, cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking soak my fingers.”

Y/N threw her head back, her neck straining as she let out a stifled scream of his name around the material of her panties. One of her hands left the sheets as it latched onto his arm around her leg, needing to hold on. The damn within her broke, Dean pulling his fingers out as jets of liquid spurted out of her, drenching his hand. The vision behind her closed lids turned white, as a wave of the purest release she had ever felt washed over her. Her body shook as he held her, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Her muffled scream turned into whimpers as she continued to come down from her high. She had never felt this way before as she continued to shake, unable to stop the waves of pleasure coursing through her.

Dean bit his lip, watching as Y/N slowly began to come down from the peak he took her to. That was a surprise, even for him. He didn’t know she was capable of that, but he was a little proud that he was the one to make it happen. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. She rolled her head to the side, looking up at him as her chest heaved, her breathing erratic. He leaned forward, taking her panties out of her mouth, a harsh sigh leaving her.

“Oh my god,” she exhaled, still trying to catch her breath.

“It’s actually Dean,” he joked, a wide grin on his face.

She lazily lifted her hand and tried to hit him but couldn’t even manage that.

“You…” she trailed off, shaking her head as she still couldn’t believe what just happened. “You made me squirt.”

“Sure did.” He nodded as he looked down at her, the smirk not leaving his face. “That was awesome,” he stated.

“It was.” She hummed as she smiled up him. That was first time anyone had managed to do that, and she was happy that her first experience of that was with someone who loved her so much. Someone who wanted to bring her pleasure before himself. His pleasure came from hers. She had never been with someone who cared like that.

“Shit,” she sighed, closing her eyes. Her whole body felt like it was buzzing. “I’ve never… done that before.”

“That was so fucking hot, sweetheart,” he declared, smirking as he looked down at his lower body and his hand, both wet from her unexpected release.

She stared up at him as she bit her lip. The fact that he found it hot had aroused her even more. The fact that he was so completely turned on by her and her body, gave her a confidence in herself that she never had before.

“You’re definitely trying that again, sometime soon,” she laughed, winking at him.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” he stated, putting her leg down.

“Really?” she asked, amused by his eagerness.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Oh and Y/N…” he trailed off, gesturing to his arm that had been wrapped around her leg.

Y/N looked down and cursed inwardly, seeing her hand wrapped around his wrist. However, a small smile spread across her lips as she looked at him, trying to act innocent. “Oops…”

Before any more words could leave Y/N’s lips, Dean tugged on her hand and flipped her over, pushing her down on her stomach. He groaned as he looked at her ass, running his hand along her skin, grasping it in his hand. He picked up the belt, folded it and held it tight in his hands. Lifting it, he twisted his wrist and flicked the loop lightly across her right cheek, gaging her reaction. She moaned as her head dropped forward onto the bed, her hips wriggling, taunting him. He couldn’t see her face, but he was certain she was wearing the little mischievous smile of hers that he loved so much.

“Harder,” she told him, her voice firm. No hesitation.

That was the only confirmation Dean needed. He lifted his hand again, bringing the belt down on the same area, slightly harder than before.

“Fuck,” she moaned, humming at the slight sting.

Dean leaned down, placing a kiss and small nip on the cheek. “Love this ass.”

Dean held Y/N’s hands together and wrapped the belt around her wrists, making sure it was tight enough so that she couldn’t get out of the binds. He buckled it, tugging on it a couple of times to test it. She whimpered softly as she laid the side of her face on the bed, excitement coursing through her. She felt him grasp her hips and pull her up onto her knees, her bound hands on her back. That feeling of thrill rose within her as she sensed him move behind her.

Dean stroked his cock as he lined himself up to her entrance, Y/N’s hips levelled with his. He entered her swiftly, a strangled moan leaving his lips as he felt how wet she was, his cock easily sliding all the way into her. A choked cry left her as she tried to move her hips back, but he grabbed them in his hands to stop her from moving. He slid out and back in, then quickly began to thrust in and out of her at a fast pace.

“So fucking tight and wet, sweetheart,” he groaned as one hand came up to hold onto her bound hands. “So perfect… like you were made for me.”

With each thrust, she moaned louder and louder. Dean wondered whether he should gag her again, but quickly thought against it. Everyone else in the hotel be damned. He needed to hear his girl.

“How does that feel, Y/N?” he asked, as his hand on her hip grabbed her flesh tight, his thrusts relentless.

“So fucking good,” she moaned loudly, her mind delirious with pleasure. “Your big cock feels so good inside me, Dean.”

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this.” He let out a grunt, feeling her walls clench around his cock with each thrust. “Tell me.”

“Oh fuck” she gasped, unable to think clearly. “Y-You-”

Suddenly, a hard, resounding spank landed on her right cheek causing her to jerk forward as she yelped in surprise.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled, his grip tightening on her bound hands.

She huffed a small laugh, completely overwhelmed by what she was feeling. He was hitting that sweet spot inside her so perfectly with every thrust. His words had her spiralling by the second, and his grip on her, both mentally and physically, had left her completely at his mercy. It was an experience unlike any other; one that she had expressed she wanted just that morning, but she had no idea the delivery would exceed her expectations.

“You’re the only one who can make me feel like this,” she moaned, loud and shameless. If someone else in the hotel was getting railed as thoroughly as she was, they’d be shameless about it too. “The only one who can make me this good… so fucking good, so full.”

She struggled against the belt around her hands, the leather digging into her skin in a delicious sting. Her legs felt weak and limp under her, quivering as she could feel herself quickly losing resolve.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His undulating hips picked up speed, as he grasped hers tightly.

Her walls continued to clench around him, signalling she was close. The only other sounds that could be heard apart from their moans and groans were the smacking of skin as their hips met, and wet, squelching sounds of her sex as he continued to pound into her.

“De… fuck, I-I I’m close,” she cried out, lifting her head to try and look back at him. The same feeling that she had felt before had returned, as if she was holding something back. “I-I think-” she shook her head, unable to speak.

Dean’s hips started to falter, his release fast approaching. “Cum with me, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’m,” she stuttered. She felt lightheaded, overstimulated and overcome by the pleasure coursing through her.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured her, his left hand leaving her hip and moving down between her legs. He rubbed her clit in tight circles, bringing her closer to her release. “Let go for me, sweetheart… soak my cock like you soaked my fingers.”

“Oh god… Fuck! Dean!” she screamed.

All concern for the people in the other rooms went out the window as they both reached the peak of ecstasy.

Y/N’s whole body convulsed as Dean let out a roaring moan, quickly pulling out as her release gushed out of her, drenching his cock as his cum spurted over her folds. Her legs gave out as she fell forward and flattened out on the bed as she tried to catch her breath. His chest heaved as he leaned forward, carefully unbuckling the belt around her hands, releasing her from the restraint. Her arms moved up the bed weakly, one hand cupping over her eyes as she began to chuckle. He looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow, confused as to why she was laughing.

“Y/N?” he called her name, getting no response.

She descended into a fit of laughter, slowly turning onto her back as she cupped both hands over her eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked, his mouth lifting up slightly into a smirk. He was amused by her reaction.

“That was… that was amazing,” she said through laughs. “I just… I can’t believe you did that. Not just once but twice!”

Y/N continued to laugh, causing Dean to join in as he leaned down and gave her a kiss. She lifted her shaky hands and cupped his face, kissing him deeply and moaning at the taste of herself that still lingered on his tongue. Pulling away, his legs almost faltered as he got up from the bed, but he held himself steady as he moved towards the bathroom. He wet a washcloth and then walked back out to the bed. He cleaned between her legs, the warm cloth ridding her of his release and her own. As he did, he was relieved to see they hadn’t ruined the sheets from both of their orgasms, his lower body taking the impact of hers. He cleaned himself off and got up again, discarding the cloth under the sink of the bathroom.

As he walked back out, he spotted the ice bucket and quickly swiped a cube out before he laid down next to her, both of them on their sides. Picking up her right hand, he smoothed the ice over the angry, red lines across her wrist. She hissed slightly at the chill on the heat of her skin but sighed as it cooled the sting. He looked at her as he did, smiling softly when her gaze lifted up to meet his.

“I… that wasn’t too much, was it?” he asked, his voice low and calming, but slightly nervous. He hoped that he hadn’t gone overboard.

She smiled, shaking her head. “No. It was perfect.”

She leaned forward, kissing him deeply. She sighed into the kiss, feeling more content than she ever had in her life. The feeling of being safe with him had been there throughout, and she loved him even more for being able to make her feel that way as he dominated her.

“You sure?” He needed to be certain. “I just gotta-”

She cut him off with another kiss, before pulling back to look at him. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. It was everything I wanted. A good, proper, hard, rough… fucking of a lifetime.”

He smirked, satisfied with her sincere answer and leaned forward, kissing her once, twice which led to them giving each other small kisses on every bit of skin they got reach. Dean gave her other wrist the same attention, before the cube could melt into his hand.

“Now I can’t wait for you to fulfill another fantasy” she smiled, a naughty glint in her eyes.

“Yeah?” he grinned, wagging his eyebrows at her. “What is it?”

She hummed as she moved forward, pressing her body into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I want a certain mechanic to tell me there are other ways of payment when I can’t afford for him to fix my car.”

He groaned as his eyes shut tightly, feeling his cock begin to stir again. “Fuck, sweetheart. I can’t wait for that either.”

He leaned in, kissing her passionately. His hands smoothed down her back and softly soothed the sting on her ass from the brief belt treatment and spanking she got.

“Bath?” he asked, tenderly as he pulled away from her lips and nuzzled his nose against hers.

She nodded with a small smile on her lips, feeling the mattress dip as he got up first.

Dean offered his hand to Y/N which she took instantly, allowing him to lift her up from the bed. Her legs shook as she stood, still weak from the amazing sex they just had. Suddenly, he leaned down and placed his arm under her legs, the other around her and lifted her up, a little laugh leaving her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. As he walked past the ottoman, she reached down and grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and the glasses, placing them in her lap and holding the bottle so it didn’t fall. They looked into each other’s eyes as he carried her into the bathroom and over to the tub.

Y/N slowly dipped her toe in, sighing in relief when it wasn’t searing hot. She held the bottle and glasses as Dean slowly placed her in the water, the petals dispersing once she was in. She took out the other bottle of champagne from the ice bucket in the bathroom and put the open one in, after she poured a generous amount into each glass. Leaning forward, she smiled as he got into the tub and rested against it, allowing her to lay back against his chest. Clinking their glasses together, she took a sip and sighed as she made herself comfortable against him.

“I’m half expecting someone to come knocking on the door about the noise,” she told him, laughing.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, no one’s coming up here to warn us on Valentine’s Day.”

“I sure hope so,” she said, taking another sip of champagne.

“I did put the “Do Not Disturb” on the door on the way in, though,” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “Just in case.”

“Always prepared,” she joked, turning her head up to look at him.

“You know it, baby.” He smirked as he leaned down, kissing her softly.

“Thank you so much for tonight,” she whispered against his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. “It was perfect.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he whispered back, pressing his lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, causing a small moan to leave her as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair at the back of head.

She pulled back, slightly out of the breath as she bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I can manage it tonight, but you can expect me to ride you into oblivion tomorrow as a thank you.”

His eyes widened as he nearly choked from the shock of her statement. He shook his head as he looked at her, wondering once again how she could be so innocent one minute and turn into a vixen the next.

“You better not threaten me with a good time and then not deliver, Y/N,” he warned her, a small smirk playing at his lips.

She shook her head, her gaze flicking between his and his lips. “It’s a promise which I absolutely intend to keep.”

“Shit,” he hissed, putting his glass on the ledge behind him. “Thank fuck I got a late check-out.”

He took hers and did the same and then moved his hands under the water, turning her around so that she was facing him and straddling his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest as she leaned in and kissed him, passionately. She pulled away after a few moments, looking into his eyes.

Y/N reached over to pick up a chocolate covered strawberry on the tray behind Dean and held it to his lips. Smiling at him as his plump lips closed around the fruit and bit into it, the juice ran down his chin as he moved his head back, trying to get the bite completely into his mouth. The fire that burned for him within her, that never extinguished, flickered at the sight of his beautiful, sinful mouth slightly stained by the sweet. She leaned in, kissing and licking the remnants of strawberry and chocolate from his lips. As he looked at her, he felt that feeling of being the luckiest guy on Earth wash over him again.

“I love you,” she whispered, a big smile spreading across her face.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, his smile as big as hers as he pulled her back into their impassioned embrace.

They stayed that way until the water turned cold, and Dean carried Y/N back to the bed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, their slumber peaceful as they both knew they were in the arms of the person who loved them unconditionally.

The next morning, Y/N kept her promise. Once they came up for air, they enjoyed a wonderful breakfast at the hotel before they finally made their way back home.

The rest of their day continued the way it began, locked in each other’s loving arms…

With promises made that they absolutely intended to keep.

-x-

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