#and ends on sort of hand kiss / 'is this something??' vibes

[wendichester]

⋆˚✿˖° say my name,

summary. sam has you captive. or a resemble of who sam used to be. he's not in his right mind. and neither are you.

pairing. demon!sam winchester x gn!reader genre. dark, weird, nsfw

wordcount. 1569

notes / warnings. captivity (reader is restrained), dubiously consensual vibes (very much a tension-based fantasy setup), morally grey dynamics, corrupted!sam, powerplay, heavy tension, implied dom/sub energy, degradation (light), reader is conflicted and into it, seriously filthy in a twisted kind of way — reader is fully into it, even if they hate themselves for it

You don’t know how long it’s been. Days, maybe. Or maybe it’s only been hours. Time feels weird in this place—too quiet, too dark. You're tied to the bed with soft leather straps that look expensive and feel… weirdly personal. Like they were picked out just for you.

Which, knowing him, they probably were.

The door creaks open and your breath catches before you even see him.

There’s a heaviness that hits the room first. That twisted sort of energy that makes your spine straighten and your lungs forget how to work. The air gets hotter. The space gets smaller.

And then he walks in.

Sam. Or… the thing wearing Sam.

You used to be able to tell the difference. You think.

But now? God, it’s hard. It’s so hard.

He still looks like him—tall, broad, hands in his jacket pockets, that slow walk like he’s got all the time in the world and nothing to fear. His hair falls into his eyes, and his lips curve in that little smirk that used to mean he was about to kiss you. Or pin you down.

Only now, it means something else entirely.

“Well,” he purrs, voice like velvet and smoke, “someone’s awake.”

You don’t say anything. Not right away. You try not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how fast your pulse kicks up.

He stalks closer, lazy. Controlled. A predator with nothing better to do than play with his food.

“You've been so quiet,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle. Too gentle. It hurts.

“I miss your voice, sweetheart.”

You glare, but your throat’s dry. You’re too warm. The way he looks at you—like he wants to ruin you, like he already has—is making it hard to hold your ground.

“Not gonna say anything?” he tilts his head. “Not even a ‘screw you, Sam’?”

“You’re not him,” you manage to whisper.

That earns you a grin. Full teeth. Sinister.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He leans in closer, breath ghosting your jaw. “That’s the fun part.”

He drags a finger along your collarbone, slow and deliberate, like he’s tracing his name there. “You think you can tell where I end and he begins?”

You hate how your stomach flutters.

He’s too close now. And you can smell him—Sam—earthy and warm and familiar, like he just stepped out of your memories and twisted them into something filthy.

“Maybe I’m just pulling what was already inside him to the surface,” the demon muses, fingers sliding down your arm. “Maybe he likes this. Maybe he’s been waiting for a reason to stop being the good guy.”

Your breath hitches.

Because deep down, you’ve wondered that too.

You’ve seen the fire in Sam’s eyes before, the hunger he tried to pretend wasn’t there. The way his grip would tighten on your hips, on your waist, like he was barely keeping something chained.

What if this is just… him, unfiltered?

No guilt. No leash. Just raw want.

“Poor thing,” the demon says, tilting your chin up. “You can’t even decide if you want to fight me or fuck me.”

You flinch. But only a little.

He smiles.

“You know what the best part is?” he says, almost giddy. “He can feel all of it. Every sound you make. Every little whimper. Every time your thighs press together.”

He runs a knuckle down your sternum. “He likes how much you want this.”

“Shut up,” you breathe, but your voice is barely a whisper.

He just laughs. “Why would I, when I’m finally getting the truth out of you?”

He climbs onto the bed, straddling you, moving with that maddening grace. Like he owns you. Like he’s entitled to this.

His face dips lower, lips ghosting your ear.

“Say my name.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re not him.”

A pause. Then a soft, dangerous hum.

“Maybe not.” He traces your jaw with his mouth, barely touching. “But I sound like him. I taste like him. And if you let me…” He presses his lips just below your ear. “I’ll make you come harder than he ever did.”

Your body shudders. You hate him. You hate how much you want him.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say my name, and I’ll let you scream.”

You bite your lip. You try not to let the moan escape—but it does. Just a tiny one. His grin sharpens.

“That’s what I thought.”

You look up at him, breathless. Torn. Thrumming with need and shame and something far too dark to name.

“Sam,” you whisper.

He stills.

Then he smiles. Slow. Sinister. Triumphant.

And you swear you see the glint of something real—not just the demon. Him.

You don’t know who you’re begging for anymore.

And honestly?

You’re not sure it matters.

Your wrists ache, but you’re barely aware of it. Not with him hovering over you like that—his weight caging you in, mouth dragging heat and ruin down your neck, breath warm against your skin. You can’t tell where the demon ends and Sam begins anymore. It’s all tangled up: the voice, the touch, the hunger.

And worst of all? It feels good. Too good.

You don’t know what you were expecting when you said his name—Sam—but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the way he stilled, like you’d yanked on a leash. It wasn’t the way his hands trembled, like he was fighting something off… or fighting to stay in control.

But now?

Now he’s kissing you like he’s starving.

And not just the demon. Him.

“Sam,” you breathe again, dazed.

He groans into your mouth like it hurts to hear his name in your voice. Like it’s pulling him back up through the black sludge of whatever’s holding him under.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he rasps against your lips. His voice is rough, strained. His voice.

“Then tell me to stop,” you whisper.

He kisses you harder.

You can feel it—feel him clawing through the surface. His hands tremble where they grip your hips, and when he pulls back to look at you, something flickers in his eyes.

That softness. That guilt.

But underneath it, still there, still hungry—the demon.

You don’t know who’s kissing you anymore.

Sam’s mouth crashes into yours again, deeper this time. Like he’s trying to memorize you, consume you. He groans against your tongue like he’s just found air after drowning.

“God, you’re so—” he breaks off, panting. His forehead drops to yours, his grip on your body bruising.

“I shouldn’t,” he says. But his hips are grinding down against yours and he’s not stopping.

“You already are,” you whisper.

He snarls, half-demon, half-man. “You think I don’t know what this is doing to you? The way you squirm when I get close? The way your thighs press together when I speak?”

You gasp, but he doesn’t stop.

“You like this. You like me like this.”

“Sam—”

“I’m still me, sweetheart,” he says, dragging his mouth down to your throat. “Still the one who fucked you in the back of the Impala. Still the one who made you cry on my tongue.”

Your whole body shudders.

“I’m just... better now.”

You shake your head, chest heaving. “This isn’t right.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good,” he growls, biting down gently on your pulse. “Tell me you don’t want it. Lie to me. I dare you.”

You open your mouth. You try. But nothing comes out.

Because you do want it. Want him.

Whatever this version of Sam is—drenched in darkness, wild and unfiltered—it’s him. Just more. Less rules. Less hesitation.

Still the same hands. Still the same mouth.

Still the same ache he’s always pulled from you like it was his.

“I hate you,” you whisper.

He laughs, dark and dangerous. “No, baby. You hate how much you want me.”

His fingers wrap around your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to look at him.

“I could let go,” he murmurs, eyes boring into you. “Let him come fully back. Let just Sam fuck you. Let him be soft.”

Your lips part. Heat coils deep in your stomach.

“Or,” he adds, voice dipping into a snarl, “I could stay right here and break you open myself.”

You whimper.

“Yeah,” he purrs. “That’s what I thought.”

But then—suddenly—his grip falters. His expression changes. Something in his eyes shifts. Softens. Flares.

And then, just like that, he’s Sam again.

Fully.

Panting. Shaking. His hands are still on you. His mouth is still red from kissing you.

And his eyes are horrified.

“I—I didn’t mean to…” he breathes, looking down at your restrained form like it’s the first time he’s really seen you. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never—fuck, I didn’t want this.”

You stare up at him, chest rising and falling. Your lips are red. Your wrists are raw. And you’ve never wanted him more.

“Then don’t stop,” you say, voice low. “Do it as you.”

Sam blinks.

You tug on the restraints. “You’re already in this deep. Might as well make me yours.”

His jaw clenches. “I’ve always been yours.”

And just like that, his mouth is on you again—desperate, messy, real. No demon. Just Sam.

But god help you, it’s worse. Because it’s better.

Because it’s him—and you’re still tied up, and you’re still wrecked, and now you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

And he’s answering every single one.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Spider And Her Demons

YA Australian urban fantasy/horror

about a Malaysian-Chinese girl who’s half spider-demon, just trying to keep her head down and survive high school

when she accidentally kills and eats a man in front of the most popular girl at school, they strike up a strange friendship and she starts to learn more about herself and the supernatural world

aroacespec/sapphic ish

[musingsofheaven]

SUGAR RUSH.

peter parker x afab!reader

fluff. heavy kissing. implied intimacy. teens being ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ teens. light suggestive vibes but nothing explicit. ♡

You're on your stomach on Peter's bed, your legs stretched out while wearing the hoodie you stole from his closet a week ago. The sleeves are too long, covering half your hands, but you like it that way. It smells like him, like detergent and that cologne he pretends he doesn't use. You've been living in it like a raccoon in a stolen nest. You're not doing anything right now, just waiting for your boyfriend to finish studying, with your mouth full of Pop Rocks that won't shut up.

Crack. Pop. Crack. It's funny, honestly. It sounds like a neck getting cracked in half—well, it can sound like fireworks too. It's annoyingly loud because your mouth looks like it's trying to pick a fight with physics.

Peter groans from his desk and doesn't even look at you. "You're so annoying." The words come out flat like he's already said them three times today. You know he doesn't mean it. Not really. He's just complaining. As always. It's his nature.

You chuckle, candy still fizzing. "You said I could have them." You roll onto your side just to get a better look at him, your lips pouting as if you're using them against him. His pen is tapping against his notebook while listening to the popping of the Pop Rocks.

"Didn't say I wanted to hear them every five seconds, baby." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Sometimes you wonder how he can even manage you. Maybe he's praying for patience and not getting any divine assistance.

You shift a little, cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his bed. "You can't even hear me over there," you say before scoffing and chewing deliberately, just to make a point.

"I can. It's like... background music. In my head." He spins slightly in his chair, just enough to throw a look at you over his shoulder.

You snort. "Dramatic." You drag the word out, milk it, trying to piss him off. Then you toss another handful of candy into your mouth like a kid.

He finally turns around the chair creaking. His hair's a mess, and there's a pencil tucked behind his ear like he forgot it was there. He crosses his arms and damn... those muscles are flexing. "I'm trying to study, and you're over here sounding like... I don't even know what to call it." His expression is all annoyed, but his eyes are warm. Tired, but warm. Not angry. Honestly? You love it when he gets like this, grumpy and soft around the edges.

You open your mouth real wide and go "Aaahhh," just to make the fizz louder. It's obnoxious. Truly. The kind of noise that would make people glare at you, and you're so proud of it.

Peter squints at you like he's in pain. "Why is my girlfriend like this?" He says it like a curse, like a prayer, like a man at the end of his rope who still wouldn't let go.

"Aw, come on, you love me." You say it too easily. It's not a question—something settled and obvious and unchangeable.

He exhales through his nose and walks over to you anyway, flops down next to you on the bed, elbow bumping yours. You hold out the package of candy. It rustles between you like a peace offering. Or a trap. He hasn't decided which yet.

He eyes it before looking back at you and your lips. "You're gonna shut up if I take some?" There's no heat in it, like the everyday tone he uses when you're being like this. Just a tired sort of fondness, like he's resigned himself to your antics and this weird little life you two have built. Annoyingly lovable, what he always says when you're asking for assurance if he still loves you even though you're playful.

You shrug. "Probably not." And you mean it. You're indecisive, and impulsive, with tendencies to be pushy. He knew that when he let you steal his hoodie the first time, and when you did things just to get his attention.

He sighs but takes a few and tilts his head back to chew. The sound bursts in the quiet like tiny firecrackers, and he physically winces, like he didn't think they'd be that loud. Hates the sounds. Obviously.

He looks at you like you just committed a crime. "Why does it... feel weird?" His face scrunches, and he's trying not to like it but also can't deny that it's kind of hilarious.

"It's fun-weird, not bad-weird." You roll onto your back beside him, shoulder brushing his, voice smug. "It tastes good though!"

Peter turns his head toward you and looks at your mouth. "You're ridiculous," he says softly, barely louder than the crackle. But he's still watching you, still close before he takes the Pop Rocks from your hand, gets enough from inside, and puts it in his mouth.

Then he kisses you.

Like... no warning. One second he's staring at your mouth like it's got all the answers to his questions, and the next, he's leaning in, slow but sure, like he already decided and you just didn't catch up yet. It's not aggressive, not rushed- it's soft, warm, and easy.

Your mouths meet soft at first. Just lips brushing lips, a little sticky from the candy's effect. But then the Pop Rocks crackle between you, loud and sudden, like someone just started a time bomb under your tongues, and everything jumps.

You giggle against him, nose bumping his, but he doesn't pull back. He just tilts his head and pushes in a little deeper. And, well, yeah, maybe that's when it changes.

Because now it's not soft. It's something else.

His mouth opens just enough for your tongue to catch him, and he tastes like cherry- you're sure it's from the candy. The candy's still popping, still snapping under your tongues, and it's a funny feeling. Literally. Your lips part wider, let it get messy, let it get loud. You lick into his mouth a little and feel him suck in a breath right through his nose.

And God, that's all it takes before he's kissing you back harder now, licking the taste of candy right out of your mouth like he's trying to shut it off. His hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek, gently and soft the way he knows you like. It's steady; he's holding you in place. His teeth graze your bottom lip, yearningly, just barely, just enough to feel it, and you groan, soft and surprised and too into it.

It's clumsy, yeah. Of course, it is. You're both grinning too much, breathing too hard, lips swollen already, and the candy still going off like a fucking broken record. But you don't stop. Neither of you. Because it's fun and silly. Because it's stupid. Because it's so much better than it should be.

Peter pulls back eventually, breathing hard, his lips pink and wet, a little sugar stuck at the corner of his mouth again. He licks it away automatically, and your stomach flips.

"Okay," he says, voice low and just barely wrecked. "That was..."

He doesn't even finish the sentence.

You're already grabbing more Pop Rocks.

"Again," you say, out of breath but grinning. "C'monnn."

He laughs, but it's a little shaky now. "I'm gonna die."

"Mhm," you hum and press your mouth to his before he can say another word.

This time, it's not that gentle. It's full of tongues and teeth and stupid little moans pressed into each other's mouths, sugar and spit and heat all tangled up in a kiss that has no business feeling this good.

You taste like candy, and he kisses you like he’s starving for it.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓© 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[moonstruckme]

Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her

You may! Thank you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words

“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 

“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 

Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 

“Something you think I should know?” 

“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 

“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 

“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 

“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 

Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 

“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 

You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 

“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 

“I won’t.” 

You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 

You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 

“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 

“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 

“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 

You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 

“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 

“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 

Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 

Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 

“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 

You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 

“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 

You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 

Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  

Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 

“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 

His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 

[digiflora]

🌐 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 '𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘!

hsr men x f!reader .... SMUT!! 🚨🚨🚨

request ؛ ଓ @coreakin-sakarat What will the honkai star rail men play when yr having sex and who bottom or both and do they go rithm oh oh and do they use toys on u and what are their favorite parts of ur body to fuck

gia's notes ؛ ଓ i did this as more of me just... talkin abt what i think the hsr men are like in bed in order from least to most freaky in my humble opinion. i hope that you like it even though i didn't exactly hit every point u brought up :(

DAN HENG .ᐟ୨୧ starting it off sweet with him, i see dan heng as more of a bottom than anything... he's not super experienced, quite a tender lover, and i see him as remaining quite serious and stoic within the bedroom too. definitely more of a slow and sensual pace, just wants to feel it all with you <3 he's quite hesitant to try things out imo, but i reckon that you could convince him to try out using toys with some convincing! 1000% a thigh guy, really likes pulling out and painting your thighs with his cum as he watches them shake. presses kisses to your forehead as you come down from both of your highs. lowkey i get the vibe that the aftercare and the cuddling and falling asleep together is more satisfying to him than having sex. THIS MAN CRAVES SKIN TO SKIN!!!! he will interlace your fingers while fucking and kiss all over your face!!! a very sweet lover <3

GEPARD .ᐟ୨୧ this man SCREAMS pleasure service top to me. he could cum in his pants just by watching you i swear. he just wants to satisfy you as best as he can :((( your wish is his command frfr. he'll put you in whatever positions you want fully customisable experience just say the word. will sometimes pause midway through sex just to ask you if he's doing a good job and if it feels good with his big puppy dog eyes AWEE. i think he would probably be a little hesitant to try out toys, especially at first? his logic reverts to him assuming that he wasn't good enough at pleasuring you and so you have to revert to a piece of plastic... but be a bit dominant and show, don't tell, him just how good a vibrator can feel and he'll be a lot more on board with the idea <3 his whole mentality is just.. do anything to give you pleasure so if you're on the freakier side, this man is game! (PEG HIM) the little sadistic side of you gets a kick seeing tears well up in his eyes if you edge him just to hear his whines and moans... he might be a top but this man is a sub thru and thru. a bad bitch (you) tells him what to do and he listens!! anyways back to when you and him are fucking... this man is just utterly in love with your pussy, they way it gushes and clenches around him, and his absolute favourite position is any where he gets to just bury his face in ur tits while he's buried inside of you because everything is just so comforting and all of him is now surrounded by something so warm and soft... he's in heaven <3 so yeah he's a tits guy who would have thought!! no matter the shape or size HE'S PUTTING THEM IN HIS MOUTH <3 his thrusts get real sloppy at the end when he's about to cum too, starts babbling in your ear about how good it feels and how much he loves u. what a cutie pie

ARGENTI .ᐟ୨୧ to be honest? i had to think a bit about this one. to me, argenti doesn't really seem like the type to bring up using toys... but that doesn't mean that he isn't game if you mention it. he seems ... not passive exactly? but he just seems like the type to go with the flow with sex. whatever you're into he'll just be like shit i'm down let's go. not kinky per se, but he's definitely a passionate lover. very much wants to explore sensuality. ooh maybe he would be into some sort of wax play or blindfold type behaviour i take it back. would probably chuckle if you decide to get on top and place his hands on your hips to help you adjust to his size and set your own pace <3 very loving, wants to celebrate the beauty of your naked body and worship it in the name of adrila. so yeah if you've got a praise kink, HE'S YOUR MAN!!! you feel like the subject of a poem as he sings your praises, telling you how pretty you look and sound when you cum. like shiiiii that would be enough to make me blush <33 in terms of pace and stuff, i feel like he would be pretty standard? maybe on the slower side because of... you know... passion. it's nothing crazy but still a good time. he seems like he prefers to be looking up at you so RIDE THAT MAN!! maintain eye contact as you sink down on it. raise your hips back up ever so slowly and watch the slightest twitch of his brow as you swivel your hips, sinking back down on it ever so slowly. you might just see him blush. and just as the name suggests, the knight of beauty is a SIGHT to behold when he cums (probably inside).

WELT .ᐟ୨୧ yeah peepaw has got some EXPERIENCE to him lmaoo. he's got a sort of... cheekier? side to him. as an older man, though, he doesn't exactly have the same stamina as he did in his youth :( but that doesn't mean that he can't still get down and dirty with you!! quite the opposite actually. so his solution? he uses toys on you <3 he's more of a bottom but he is DEFINITELY in charge. his dirty talk OMFGG im giggling just thinking about it he would praise you and whisper such sweet words to you as he slowly splits you open on his fat cock, telling you how you're such a good girl for taking him so well, how you feel so good around him, all so he can feel you clench around him like a vice grip as he finally bottoms out <33 def would just have his hands around your waist as he moves you up and down his length when you're feeling weightless. but if he's in a more passive mood, he also LOVESSSS just sitting back and watching you struggle to ride him with a lazy adoring look in his eyes as he holds a vibrator to your clit <333 he'll coo at you as you start crying from the overstimulation, his hands wiping away your tears so tenderly and encouraging you to keep going just for him <3 a little bit of a sadistic side to him because he really does just love watching you squirm. another thigh and ass guy imo, really loves the way they jiggle as they slam down against his own thighs as you start to pick up the pace and ride him with increasing desperation. also loves watching them shake when you cum <3. so yeah as a no brainer i think one of his favourite positions would be reverse cowgirl. yum <3

BOOTHILL .ᐟ୨୧ now dont get me wrong this man FUCKS. since he's a cyborg does his dick count as a toy...? yeah fuck it let's go with it HIS BIOCOCK VIBRATES!! so the sensations on that will go CRAZYYYY. and then i'm thinking because of his synthesia beacon and stuff he doesn't exactly experience much sensation down there. so when you're having sex, what gets him off the most is just seeing your pleasure as you unravel. makes him feel good vicariously <3 so yeah definitely a missionary lover in my eyes so he can watch all your facial expressions and reactions as he hits all the right places, how your brows furrow and your eyes slide shut and eyes roll back in your head as he keeps up his unforgiving pace at juuuuust the right angle <33 but don't get me wrong he's no vanilla bitch either!! if he wants to be feeling more ... sensations he can and will make you just sit on his face for actual HOURS just eating you out to his heart's content. you'd think that his tongue is cybernetic too with the way it flicks across your clit at a borderline INHUMAN speed. but no he's just that good. some of ur most intense orgasms have been from him tonguefucking you like this, his head firmly sandwiched between your quivering thighs as you're basically humping his face as u ride out your high. and hey, he's not complaining <3 and then his smug shit-eating grin does NOT help at all when you're still trying to come back down to earth and he's sitting up wiping the slick off his face with that hungry look STILL in his eyes good lord i hope u can survive the night. this bastard has definitely ruined toys for you, they just don't feel the same any more <//3

BLADE .ᐟ୨୧ fucks hard. angry and/or jealous sex with him has just gotta be >>> 😮‍💨😮‍💨 he's on the rougher side and for MOST of the time will dom. and also tbh i don't really see him as being the type to use toys since he's more spontaneous in terms of having sex (public sex. he's got a high sex drive) but very very passionate for sure- lots of grunts and low moans right up in ur ear mhhhnrng. but also at the same time i feel like he would be quite emotionally detached from sex at first, seeing it as more like stress relief than an act of intimacy? and don't get me wrong, some of the best fucks of your life have come from him when he's just trying to release some pent up anger, but on the flip side there's a more vulnerable side to him, almost. one that's barely there any more from years of bitterness and resentment, but still manages to creep up on him on those late nights where he can't quite sleep. so if you're with him on those rare occasions, this is when you experience him not fucking you, but making LOVE. he won't talk, but he doesn't need to, not with the way he's holding you close to him and kissing you with something akin to desperation as he sinks into you and kind of just... stays there for a bit. it's oddly comforting to him, and if he's feeling especially weak he'll need some comfort- just to get him through the night. it's these nights where you take control more, setting a slow and sweet pace and kind of just... hushing him and whispering sweet words to him as you slowly let yourself grind over him, feeling the way he twitches inside of u <333 but yeah back to not vulnerable blade. a fan of quickies for sureeee (see: high sex drive) another tit guy because i am biased. the force of his thrusts in some dark alleyway or hidden corner will have them jiggling and threatening to fall out of whatever shirt you wear. and if he's got you lifted up in his arms, your legs wrapped around him as you're chest to chest with each other, he just can't tear his eyes away from your boobs. leaves bites on them, laves over them like a damn dog until they're coated in saliva and stiff and perked up because of how cold it feels when drying on your skin. if you're in doggystyle, you'll feel his hands clasp over them from behind, a few short and sweet squeezes to them before his blunt nails are flicking over your nipples just to hear you squeal <3

AVENTURINE .ᐟ୨୧ just like blade, he very much has two different modes. let's start with the freaky one bc that's fun. he's quite open to experiment with all aspects of sex- who's in charge, who's topping, toys, positions, you name it. he trusts you enough to do anything with or to you short of causing each other pain. so yeah he's a freak alright!! i feel like if you're in an established relationship, he'll feel guilty due to the amount if time that he spends away from you because of his job, and make it up to you by spoiling you with gifts... he loves to buy you new toys to try out as he sits back and just watches as you squirm and then writhe in pleasure as he slowly palms himself, eventually unzipping his trousers and jerking himself off until he cums all over u <33 definitely gets a kick out of seeing his cum painting your pretty face and how your tongue darts out to catch it before it drips onto the floor <333 or maybe he just strokes himself to stay hard, his eyes hungrily watching you as your own remain transfixed on his cock, the flushed tip disappearing with every stroke of his hand, the slick noises of his precum overpowering the buzzing hum of the dildo inside of you. and then when neither of you can handle the tension any more, dying to feel each other's touch, after you've cum a couple of times and are all nice and sensitive for him, then and ONLY then will he finally put it in, quickly setting a pace to fuck your brains out like a wild animal <3 lovessss doggystyle or the speedbump position because then he's all up in your guts and ur moans/screams of pleasure are just music to his ears. definitely the type to go a little feral bc... yeah. so yeah that's freaky mode! but like blade he has a softer side to him UNLIKE blade it is still definitely there and more accessible... but that doesn't mean he exposes it to you just like that either. but yeah if he's feeling more vulnerable emotionally, especially right after he wakes up from a nightmare while you're groggily waking up next to him, he just needs comfort. you holding him and stroking his hair, telling him how he's safe and how much you love him. if you've been together for a while and he really trusts you, he might even cry. almost begs you to call him kakavasha instead of aventurine, and you oblige. and then as soon as his name leaves your lips, he's kissing you hard, gradually letting them become tender as you undress each other with the utmost amount of care. it's love that motivates him, from what you can feel from his fingers tracing your skin and how soft his lips press against yours. he lets out a quiet moan as he sinks into you and basks in your warmth for a bit, letting his arms now wrap around your frame tightly, holding you to himself as if you would disappear any moment. and you hug him too, draw patterns on his back, stroke his hair and hum as you tell him how much you love him, listening to the sound of his shaky breaths as you slowly raise your hips, sinking back down inch by inch to hear him hiss. at first, he would still refuse to let you see his face when you have sex like this, not until you gently coax him to look at you, and you see the crystalline tears already escaping from his eyes. he's definitely the type to cry during sex like this- something so soft and tender that it's overwhelming to him for so many reasons- the vulnerability of it all, how much you love and care for him written all over your face, the way you squeeze against him so perfectly. and then he buries his face in your chest as you keep whispering words of affirmation to him and he cums so fast, deep inside of you and then he stays even when he feels himself go soft. just because it feels nice. and he falls asleep just like that, clinging to you, the person he loves.

JING YUAN .ᐟ୨୧ another member of team lazy but pussydrunk (him and welt have permanent memberships lmfao) whenever the two of you fuck it usually starts with him making you work for it. involving either you getting off by grinding on his thigh or riding him, desperately throwing your weight back onto him to even simulate the feeling of his powerful thrusts- all in vain as he merely sits there, looking up at you with a maddening smile and just WATCHING you... what a creep <3 but yeah he loves loves loves seeing how worked up and whiny you get for him to do something, anything, just for him to do the exact opposite, placing two firm hands on your hips to effectively get you to stop, and you whine again from the loss of friction. and he'll merely smile, telling you how you're such a good girl for him, getti my off from watching you get so so close, just to do it over and over again. orgasm denial and edging really are his two best friends fr. so he's not really a strict dom but more of a tease, you get me? i think that YES he will use toys. really gets a kick out of vibrating panties or a vibrator inside of you that he can remote control <33 just really enjoys when you're in public trying to remain composed (what a creep <3) keeps u constantly stimulated all day, finally making it up to you when you both get back home, fucking you properly as you're on the verge of tears and ready to cum any second. hmmm hear me out on this but i think his favourite place to cum would be your back.. like yeah finishing inside is cool and all but pulling out and cumming all over your back just drives him CRAZY and ready for another round... as soon as you recover <3

LUOCHA .ᐟ୨୧ LORDDDDDD he's like jing yuan but even WORSE. he's dangerous too because in his eyes, it isn't him or a toy but him AND a toy. this man will have u in his lap thighs spread legs hanging over his knees so he can keep them open as he has one hand gripping your chin forcing to look at yourself in a mirror, the other hand holding a vibe to yr clit <33 every time your eyes start to roll back he'll do a light slap to your face, forcing you to hold eye contact with him through the mirror, his feline eyes dancing with mirth at your already fucked-out expression. and then when he's sure that his gaze is holding your attention, he'll let go of your face, letting his hand snaie downwards until his hands are collecting your slick on his fingers before pushing into you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek that contradicts how hard he's fingering you <3 squirting is not an achievement but the new standard with him!! that man is NOT relenting until you coat his arm and the floor (even the mirror) he really likes making you kiss him just after you cum- when your brain is foggy from the intensity of your orgasm, you can barely hear, let alone process what he's saying, and when u finally manage to connect your lips to his the kiss is just so sweet n sloppy, showing how worked up he is already <33 he's a little mean with it but you wouldn't have it any other way!! because that man knows what you need and will DELIVER. and he loves alllll of you. especially your pussy. and ass lol

DR RATIO .ᐟ୨୧ ok stay with me now cos this one's more of a scenario but!!! imagine that you haven't seen veritas in a while because you've both been busy but he messages you, saying how he'll finally be back soon!!! and ur just so excited that you can't contain it, and all those lonely nights are starting to tally up... your hands just don't do the trick any more and you finally cave, getting out your old reliable dildo to try and satiate your lust. trying your hardest to focus on veritas while you fuck yourself so that you'll be able to cum... pretending that it's his cock instead of some silicone... moaning out his name into your room with your eyes screwed shut to try trick your brain into believing that it's really him!! and it seems to work because you can feel that coil in you begin to tighten, and just when ur about to cum you feel a hand on top of yours, startling you out of your impending orgasm. and you open your eyes to see none other than the man who you had been fantasising about just now <3 and he's got this smirk on his face and a certain look in his eyes, and when you glance down you can see that he isn't exactly... unaffected from watching you earlier <33 i feel like he would degrade you a little, calling you such a stupid girl for needing to think of him just to even get close to cumming <333 and you'll whine and get embarrassed, trying to hide yourself with the covers, but deep down you know he's right so you peek at him from behind your lashes, batting them and begging him to help you as sweetly as you can. and how can he deny you when you're just so sweet and submissive for him? he'll be quick to take out his cock, slipping the head through your folds, letting it catch as it skims past your needy hole, letting the tip slap against your sensitive clit just to watch your whole body twitch as he chuckles to himself before bullying his cock into you. even after fucking yourself it's still a stretch, especially cos he has you in a mating press, his strong hands keeping your thighs pinned as he puts hisbweight behind his thrusts, really slamming into you until you're bouncing back against the mattress <33 a good hard fuck that hits all the right spots he needs to in order for you to cum HARD. but if he's feeling mean, he won't even oblige your request, instead being all smug and settling back on his haunches, goading you to keep going and make yourself cum without him because you're just so close, you can do it. watches your pathetic attempts to do so as you huff and beg him because you just can't without him <//3 and maybe if you beg hard enough he'll consider helping you out... even though it's just so entertaining to watch you keep trying. ironically enough, it's the way he calls you his sweet girl as he finally pushes into you that sends you over the edge more than any of your own touches did. and once you ride out that high, body no longer convulsing on his dick, he'll pull out of you just to flip you onto your stomach, then pull your hips up to meet his before fucking into you to make you really cum because of him this time <33

SAMPO .ᐟ୨୧ this man is MOST DEFINITELY an experimentalist!!! 1000% down for literally anything. you use toys on each other el oh el. the epitome of a switch. he'll top or bottom too, it's always a good time with him. definitely a freak. tbh i headcanon him as having a crazy oral fixation... if he's not sucking on your tits already then put your fingers in his mouth!! he'll have hearts swimming in his eyes, especially if you let them slide to the back of his throat until he gags and his eyes get all teary!!! definitely a sight to behold if u start fingerfucking his throat. or maybe just gag him with your panties, letting urself hear his muffled whines and moans as you finally free his cock and deepthroat him <33 oh god his whines and moans... get this man on twitter NEEOOOWWW. as a top he's definitely more goofy about it, not super strict. sex is about making sure you both feel good and just having a good time im his eyes.

GALLAGHER .ᐟ୨୧ ... this man... a certified freak. me personally im not into it but IF U LIKE ANAL THIS IS UR GUY 1000%%%. he def loves ur ass more than anything. the type to stick a finger in as he makes out with you or just let his finger tease the ring of muscle, circling it ever so slowly to feel u squirm while sat naked in his lap. when he eats you out he'll let his tongue drop a little lower to tease both of your holes. if u let him he'll eat your ass with GUSTO. and YES he's using toys on you you're not safe... buttplugs with the cute jewel on them and when you're in public he'll give your ass a slap or squeeze just to see your face change as you feel it press a little deeper into you... he'll have a vibrator fucking into your pussy as he's all up in your guts, laughing at the way you can't even form words right now. yeahhh he's a FREAK. oh and did i mention that he's an ass guy??

SUNDAY .ᐟ୨୧ ohohoho. this man has actual YEARS of pent up sexual frustration under his belt. his wings. whatever. he's a man who thrives off of control, and this is no exception in the bedroom. massive dom. both soft and hard. but more hard <3. really gets off on u calling him sir LAWLLL. lowkey i see him being into some real freaky bdsm stuff... cos hes got the whole sexually repressed catholic thing going on n all yknow. likes seeing u kneeled w your hands tied behind your back. you stripped naked while hes fully clothed and smiling so sweetly as he watches you try and get yourself off by humping his shoe. anything for that power imbalance with him hrrrrng. and if youre feeling a bit more bratty, touch his wings. preen them, blow air on them, even grip onto them HARD with your fingers and it'll get him all riled up. and then that sweet smiling facade will drop and youll see his eyes change into something a touch more feral as he pins u down and fucks u hard and properly. just to remind u who's really in control <3. the aftercare goes crazy, naturally. but then i also saw this post talking abt how hes a PEOPLE PLEASER and i agree 10000% so when he's feeling more soft, your pleasure is his greatest reward. a headrush mix of sweet praise and filthy degradation. telling you how you're a nasty bitch who's just so good for him... how you take him so well like the filthy slut you are.... and he's just so so composed during it all like an ANGEL EHFHWJFJE it makes ur head spin istg. yeah he's a freak in the sheets LOLL

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ...... eat it 'til your teeth rot!

[ SMUT ] how the hsr men eat pussy!

alternatively, find my hsr masterlist here! ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

[artficlly]

sweetpea [one-shot]

post-apocalyptic marvel au

retired!hero!bucky x fem!reader After the Riftborn War, Bucky Barnes seeks to retire from his past as a hero and settle down, you might just be the peace he’s been looking for all along.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, p in v, against tree sex, outdoor sex, no protection, vague primal vibes, very consensual, kissing, underwear ripping, if you squint, there's some plot, teeth-rotting fluff, it's so cute, bucky barnes is the sweetest, beefy bucky, yelena meddles, steve rogers is horrified, spring festivals, paganism, masks, drinking, mentions of past violence, death and war, mentions of readers previous relationships, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: hello! it's nearly my birthday so heres a treat for you all. i've been sitting on this idea for AGES. i've been working hard on the daughter of the rotsál first draft, so i decided to take a break from the angst for some fluffy, cute smut!! please let me know if you enjoy and your thoughts! sorry for any typos - not proof read. permanent tag list: @globetrotter28

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Being fucked over the table was not unwelcome but rather surprisingly pleasant, even if it derailed your breakfast plans. 

Leif had always been a rather attentive lover, skilled at pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your needy cunt. He possessed stamina and a hint of roughness that stirred warmth within you, yet something still felt absent. This elusive quality lingered throughout your year together—an unexpressed awareness that simmered between you. Leif was kind, diligent, attractive, and strong. He was considerate, often surprising you with gifts and regularly praising your looks and cooking. Your friends approved of him.

So even if that brief and passionate session had been perfect, him thrusting into you from behind so intensely that your toes curled and you had to press your face against the wooden surface to keep from screaming—you realised it was all somewhat melancholic. The thing that was missing between you and your Springbond was that fabled spark.

The decision to part ways had hurt, but you both knew it was right. A week before you had made the decision, on Mayflame he would move out, and the both of you would be single once more. The morning sex had been a goodbye of sorts, in typical Leif style. Even if you aligned perfectly, you inevitably amassed a long list of differences that broke the perfect illusion. You desired to settle down, concentrate on your work and home, and build connections with those nearby.

In contrast, Leif craved adventure and excitement—obviously, the Bleeding Age hadn’t brought enough danger and activity into his life. He later confessed that he was eager to sleep around more, as he was still a young man exploring his possibilities. This revelation didn’t necessarily shock or hurt you; you had captured his attention for the entire year, far beyond your predictions. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder... were you boring?

After years of undue stress, survival, and several near-death experiences, you were eager to take advantage of the calm that followed the defeat of the Riftborn and the end of the Bleeding Age. You had to remind yourself—somewhat bitterly—that Leif was not the first and would not be the last. 

“Did you see who that was?” Yelena exclaimed from beside you, her hand gripping your forearm tightly. You nearly leapt in surprise, abruptly pulled from your thoughts. Your head turned as you looked back, tracking Yelena’s gaze. “I swear to the fucking gods that was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes—”

You squinted at the backs of the two men who had passed you by. 

They walked like soldiers—steady, assured, their movements streamlined but commanding. No hesitation, no wasted motion, just the certainty of men who had spent years on battlefields, who had fought and bled and survived when others hadn’t. They were massive, even under their coats, their broad shoulders and thick arms unmistakable beneath the heavy fabric. Towering over the people around them, they carried themselves with the kind of presence that didn’t demand attention but took it anyway.

“The captain and the sergeant?” You shot back, doubt curling around your words as your brow furrowed. “I thought they were stationed in Stonebrook until the village was built.”

“They were… but last I heard, Stonebrook’s finished.” Yelena’s voice had an eager edge; her gaze locked onto the two figures even as they disappeared around a street corner, swallowed by the cobbled streets. “They were invited back for the Mayflame celebrations. The word is that they want to retire from the soldier business now the war is over.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging at her arm with a huff. “Come on, we’re going to be late—”

“But do you think they’ll run in Mayflame?” Yelena pressed, barely budging under your pull. 

“I mean, gods, can you imagine if Steve Rogers was your Springbond?” She exhaled, almost breathless at the thought, her fingers tightening around your sleeve as if the mere idea was enough to set her heart racing.

You grit your teeth, heat rising in your face—not from excitement but from secondhand embarrassment. A group of older women lingered outside your destination, snickering between themselves at Yelena’s loud ponderings. With a sharp yank, you pulled her off the street and into the village hall, the heavy wooden doors thudding shut behind you, sealing away the crisp morning air and her starry-eyed ramblings.

“There you two are! I need all the hands I can get!”

A flustered-looking Pepper Potts intercepted you and Yelena before you could fully step inside, already ushering you towards a large pile of decorations. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, auburn hair pinned haphazardly at the nape of her neck, a sure sign that she had been running herself ragged in preparation for the festival.

“I’ve got half the boys working on the course and the bonfire,” she said, exhaling sharply. “Can you please cart these down and get started on the flowers?”

“Of course,” you replied with a quick nod, already sizing up the pile, considering how best to carry everything down in as few trips as possible.

Yelena, however, had other priorities. “Pepper, are the captain and sergeant joining the Mayflame?” She asked shamelessly, barely masking the anticipation in her tone.

But Pepper had already turned, swept away by the tide of arriving villagers, barking orders as she moved—clearly too busy to entertain Yelena’s curiosity.

You scoffed, sinking your hands into a collection of freshly cut flowers, their stems already bundled neatly for easy transport. You had grown and picked them yourself, much to Pepper’s praise. In recent years, you found comfort in your gardens and flowerbeds. The scent of wild blooms filled your nose, the petals soft against your fingers as you began sorting through them. “Yelena, stop meddling and help me.”

“Fine, but you are no fun!” Yelena groaned, throwing herself down beside you with dramatic flair. Then, as if compelled by some unseen force, she added with a wistful sigh, “I know you’re upset about Leif, but at least let me dream of a raunchy, hero-filled Mayflame.”

Her voice carried farther than she likely intended. Several nearby villagers—some heaving chairs, others hauling tables—stopped mid-task, casting curious glances in your direction. 

Mortified, you didn’t dignify her with a response. 

—

“I mean, you keep saying you’re not upset about Leif, but you’re obviously upset.”

Yelena’s voice drifted up from below, thick with scepticism. She was not taking her duty of stabilising the ladder very seriously. The wooden rungs wobbled beneath your feet, shifting with every careless movement she made. A quick glance down confirmed your suspicions. She was barely gripping the beams, more occupied with craning her neck up the hill, no doubt hoping for another glimpse of the fabled Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes.

You sighed, your arms burning from the strain. You had foolishly volunteered for the painstaking task of weaving flowers through the towering wooden archways that framed the festival’s entrances. The Mayflame decorations were meant to be intricate and beautiful—braided vines, bundles of wildflowers, bright ribbons fluttering in the evening breeze—but at this rate, you’d be lucky if you made it out of this task without breaking a limb.

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, though your voice lacked conviction. You worked the soft stems of sweetpeas and baby’s breath into a sturdy braid, securing them with twine against the wooden frame. “We made a mutual decision. It wasn’t working. Just a Mayflame fling...”

Yelena snorted from below, unimpressed. The ladder swayed as she shifted, and you tightened your grip, heart stuttering. “You two lived together for a year. I think it was a little more than a fling.”

You exhaled sharply, your fingers tightening around the flowers. “If he wants to run off, sleep around, and travel, who am I to hold him back, Lena? He wanted something different than I did. It never would have worked.”

“I just…” Yelena hesitated. “I just don’t like thinking about you living up on that farm by yourself.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you reached for another bundle of flowers. “Then come visit me more often instead of spending all your nights at the tavern, bothering Nat. I need all the help I can get wrangling those weeds—”

The words barely left your mouth before the ladder jerked violently beneath you.

Your stomach lurched as you wobbled. You instinctively reached for the wooden arch to steady yourself but overcorrected. The shift in weight sent the ladder tilting dangerously, its legs twisting beneath you. The basket of flowers on your hip slipped free, tumbling towards the grass below in a flurry of petals.

“Yelena! The ladder—!”

“There’s a bee in my hair!” Yelena shrieked, her grip altogether abandoning the wooden beams as she flailed wildly. “Gods, if it stings me, I swear—”

You had no time to process her nonsense. The world lurched violently as the ladder lost its precarious balance, tipping sideways with terrifying speed.

Air whipped at your cheeks as you plunged downward. Your arms shot up in a feeble attempt to protect your head, your entire body bracing for the inevitable collision with the earth below.

But the pain never came.

Instead, you collided with something solid—something warm.

A pair of strong arms locked tightly around your middle, yanking you against a broad, muscled chest. The force of your fall sent both of you toppling over; your breath knocked from your lungs as your saviour twisted to absorb the impact. The two of you crashed into the grass in a tangled heap.

A startled squeak escaped your lips as you landed atop them, hands splayed flat against their chest. Their sheer size was dizzying—hard muscle beneath the thin fabric. The steady rise and fall of their breathing made you acutely aware of how firmly you were pressed against them.

For a long second, neither of you moved, your heart pounding as you processed what had just happened. Then, slowly, the arms around your waist loosened. A deep, low voice rumbled beneath you, quieter than you expected yet laced with a restrained amusement.

“Careful, angel. Keep this up, and people will talk.”

Your breath hitched, pulse stuttering as you realised who lay beneath you. Bucky Barnes.

A cold rush of realisation hit like a shock to the system. Your eyes widened in alarm as you took in the situation. Your hands braced against the solid plane of his chest, his body beneath yours, broad and unmoving. Worse, your legs were hooked around his hips, the warmth of him seeping through your clothes—oh gods, were you sitting on his—?

Panic jolted through you. Without a second thought, you scrambled off him in a flurry of movement, heat rushing to your face. Your hands shot up instinctively as if you could wave away the mortifying situation.

“I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Bucky didn’t move immediately. He remained where he was, lying on the ground, one arm bent behind his head. The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees cast shadows on his face, highlighting the defined angles of his cheekbones and the depth of his blue eyes. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky remark—just a quiet, lingering patience.

Finally, with a slow, fluid motion, he pushed himself upright, his expression unreadable. 

“It’s fine,” he assured, his voice smooth but low, edged with something thoughtful. Just a quiet confidence that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

You took a hurried step back, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but the erratic beat of your heart refused to settle. You’d always known of Bucky Barnes—the colder one, the quiet one. The man whose name carried a reputation as cutting as winter’s first frost. Yet now, looking at him, the weight of that reputation felt at odds with how he carried himself.

There was something measured about his movements, deliberate and careful, as though he were wary of taking up too much space.

The silence stretched between you until his voice, softer this time, broke through. “You’ve got a little something…”

His hand shot up before you could reply—quick yet remarkably gentle. His fingers delicately moved through your hair, his careful touch igniting a familiar warmth in your gut.

You froze.

He plucked something from your hair and turned it over in his fingers. A single sweetpea, its delicate petals trembling in the breeze. Bucky studied it with quiet intensity, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Sweetpea,” he murmured, as if the word carried weight, his gaze flicking back to meet yours. How he looked at you—calm yet piercing—made your breath catch. For a fleeting moment, the world felt impossibly still.

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Something flickered across his face, subtle but there. Not quite a smile, but something close, something softer than you would have expected from a man with his reputation.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he said simply. Then, after a beat, quieter: “You could’ve hurt yourself.”

It was such a small thing. Barely even a kindness. You were glad the hero couldn’t sense the throbbing between your legs. Maybe this break-up with Leif had indeed done a number on you, lusting after the first man who showed you kindness... but there was something rather magnetic about the sergeant you couldn’t quite understand. 

You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus and gather the scattered remnants of your pride. Your gaze turned to the abandoned basket of flowers at your feet, a welcome distraction.

 "Right, well, thank you,” you muttered. “I should probably—” 

You motioned vaguely toward the half-finished floral arch, eager to redirect the moment into something less intense. But before Bucky could respond, a sharp, frantic voice shattered the moment.

“Oh, gods! I’m so sorry, there was a bee, and I just—are you okay?” You barely had time to brace before Yelena was upon you, hands gripping your shoulders, her wide green eyes scanning your face as if she expected to find a gaping wound. You squirmed under her touch, cheeks still burning.

“I’m fine, Lena,” you mumbled, trying to pry her hands off you. “Really.”

“Yes, of course! This gentleman saved you—” Yelena cut herself off mid-sentence, her entire body freezing as she finally got a good look at him. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in unfiltered shock. “Wait. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s expression shifted, barely, but you caught it. A flicker of something. Not quite discomfort, but something close. His posture stiffened, his fingers flexing once before settling back into stillness.

He didn’t confirm or deny it. He just gave a slow, short nod. You saw the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the way he held himself—not defensive, exactly, but closed off as if he had already braced for whatever reaction was coming next.

Yelena’s gaze darted between you, her sharp mind working fast. Too fast. There was a feral glint in her eyes, one you knew well. You could practically see the cogs turning in her mind, a meddling scheme already in action. You held back a groan.

Before she could say something truly insufferable, a sharp, shrill voice rang out from across the unlit bonfire.

“There you are! I need more flowers—can you believe it? I thought we’d have enough with all that you grew. Please tell me you have more in that garden of yours!” You blinked, grateful for the interruption, and immediately turned towards the sound of Pepper’s voice. 

“Yes, of course,” you called back, relief flooding through you. “I grew extra just in case. I had a feeling this might happen.” 

“Wonderful! Oh, you’re a lifesaver today,” Pepper’s voice rose in excitement. “Leave the floral arches for now. I’ll have one of the girls help finish them up. If you could just run up to your garden—” 

You didn’t need to hear the rest. 

“Of course!” You cut her off a little too eagerly, desperate to get away from Yelena’s looming interrogation. It was almost like an escape route had opened, and you weren’t about to hesitate. Pepper barely seemed to notice your enthusiasm as she continued.

“Oh, but you won’t be able to carry them all alone, will you? Yelena, you’ll help her, won’t you? And, oh, Bucky, I didn’t realise you were down here already. If I send you and Steve up as well, can you help these lovely ladies?”

You turned towards him instinctively, almost uncertain of what to expect. Bucky, who had been silent throughout the exchange, lifted his head slightly. His eyes jumped towards Pepper, then towards you. His blue eyes were unreadable, his expression impossible to decipher.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Yeah.”

That was it. No unnecessary words, no wasted breath. Just a quiet, steady answer, the same way he seemed to carry himself, like a man who only spoke when it was worth speaking.

Yelena, on the other hand, was already on you like a hawk, latched onto your arm, nails digging through even your clothing as she grinned in excitement. Instead, you held back any protest that wanted to bubble to the surface, donning a hesitant smile. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the afternoon was about to take a turn for the absurd.

There was no way out of this now. 

—

The sun sat high in the sky as the four of you climbed the hill towards the garden. The path was uneven, the dirt packed down from years of footsteps, the scent of wildflowers and earth thick in the warm air. You focused ahead, gripping the empty basket, determined not to meet anyone’s gaze—especially not Bucky’s.

Of course, Yelena had no such reservations. She walked beside Steve, hands clasped behind her back, the picture of feigned innocence. You could feel the question brewing before she even opened her mouth.

“So,” she began, her tone laced with a familiar mischief. “You two were some of the great heroes of the Blooded Age.”

Steve huffed a small, almost bashful laugh. “I wouldn’t call us heroes.”

“Really?” Yelena raised a brow. “Because I’ve heard plenty of stories that say otherwise. You fought monsters, saved villages, built armies—sounds pretty heroic to me.”

Steve glanced at Bucky as if expecting him to jump in, but the other man remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. Steve sighed and shrugged. “We did what needed to be done. It wasn’t about being heroes. People were dying, and the world was falling apart. We just... fought to keep it together.”

Yelena hummed, unimpressed with his humility. “And now you’re here. Retired.”

“That’s the plan.”

“You must be very tired.” She smirked. “All that fighting. Saving the world. Carrying such a heavy burden on those broad, broad shoulders.”

You choked on absolutely nothing, coughing into your hand as warmth flared in your cheeks.

Steve cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was time to put the war behind us.”

Yelena turned to Bucky, who had been walking a step behind, silent as ever. “And what about you, Barnes? Tired of fighting too?”

Bucky finally glanced her way, his expression unreadable. 

“War doesn’t leave much room for a future.” His voice was low, quiet, but firm. “Figured it was time to start thinking about one.”

Yelena tilted her head, studying him like a puzzle she was determined to solve. “And New Fernwick is the place to do that?”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately. His attention turned to you—brief and mysterious—before he looked back at the trail. “Seems as good a place as any.”

Yelena smirked, but you reached the garden before she could push further.

“Here we are!” You announced, a little too brightly, desperate to change the subject.

You set your basket down and knelt to gather the flowers, focusing intently on the task. Yelena crouched beside you, plucking a few stems with ease. Steve busied himself as well, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked.

Bucky, however, remained standing with his arms crossed as he surveyed the field of blooms. After a brief pause, he crouched, reaching for a flower near your basket. You watched as his fingers brushed over the petals carefully and deliberately.

Yelena noticed too. “Didn’t peg you for a flower guy, Barnes.”

Bucky plucked the stem and twirled it between his fingers, his expression unreadable. “You learn to appreciate the small things when you don’t see ‘em for a long time.”

The words were simple, but they settled in your chest, something unspoken lingering beneath them.

Yelena, for once, said nothing.

The silence stretched as the four of you worked, the baskets gradually filling, until until Yelena, as always, shattered it with a single sentence—one that made your stomach drop the moment it left her mouth.

“So, are you two going to do the Mayflame Run?”

Your fingers tightened around the delicate stems of the flowers in your hands, nearly crushing them. Heat flared up your neck, and you snapped your head towards her. “Yelena.”

She only grinned, tilting her head in mock innocence. “What?”

 She batted her lashes. “It’s a fair question.”

Bucky and Steve glanced up from where they were crouched, picking through the wildflowers. The question had caught them off guard. Steve’s brow furrowed, curiosity laced with hesitation.

“What exactly is the Mayflame Run?” he asked.

You parted your lips, scrambling for a way to downplay it, but Yelena was already launching into her favourite pastime—oversharing.

“It’s a spring festival all about welcoming in the new season... new life... fertility and all that.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis, an impish smirk tugging at her lips.

Steve blinked, his expression shifting into one of wary understanding. “Right…”

The mischief in Yelena’s eyes deepened as she continued.

“The main event is the run. We call it the Springbond Run, but let’s be honest—everyone knows what it’s really about. See, after the Blooded Age, people kind of… forgot how to date. Or just didn’t bother.” She waved a hand as if brushing aside years of devastation. “War, famine, monsters—it put a real damper on romance. And, well, people aren’t exactly repopulating at the rate they should be, so...” 

She shot Steve a pointed look. “The elders decided to encourage things.”

Steve still looked uncertain. "And how does it work?”

You exhaled through your nose, adjusting your basket.

“The women carry torches and run through the dark forest,” you explained, keeping your voice even as possible. “The goal is to reach the clearing on the other side and light the bonfire.” 

You hesitated, dreading the next part. “The men chase them.”

Steve’s brows lifted. “They chase them?”

You nodded stiffly, but Yelena was the one who answered.

“If you get caught,” she said breezily, “you have to date the guy who caught you for a week. You’re now each other’s Springbond. After that, you decide if you want to keep seeing each other or go your separate ways. Most end up sticking it out. Either for marriage or, at the very least, some fun.”

Your stomach twisted as Bucky’s gaze flickered towards you. He hadn’t spoken yet or reacted outwardly, but you felt the weight of his attention pressing against your skin like an unspoken question.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, clearly processing the information. “And what happens to the women who manage to light the bonfire?”

“Oh, then they get to choose who they spend the week with,” Yelena said. "Which honestly makes the whole thing even more exciting. It’s so dark, you don’t always know who’s chasing you until they’re right on top of you, pinning you to the ground—”

Steve choked on his own breath, shifting awkwardly. You clamped your eyes shut, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Yelena.”

“What?” she said, all false innocence. 

“It’s true. And let’s be real, some people don’t even wait until after the run to start celebrating.” She smirked. “All that adrenaline, all that tension, out there all alone in the woods—”

Steve made another strangled sound, and you wished, for the first time in your life, that you had the power to smite Yelena where she stood.

“And this is normal?” he asked weakly.

You let out a long breath. “Yes. It’s… tradition.”

Yelena’s smirk stretched wider, and a pit of dread opened in your stomach just before she delivered the final blow.

“Oh, she would know,” she said airily. “She’s done it three times.”

Silence.

You felt the shift in the air before you even looked up. Steve was already glancing away politely, but Bucky—Bucky’s gaze was steady, unyielding, waiting. His expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp beneath it, something that made your pulse stutter.

Your mouth went dry. “I—uh—yeah.”

Yelena cackled, delighted. “And she had quite the reputation for it, too. She and Leif turned it into a year-long one-night stand."

Your stomach dropped. Heat flared at your ears, mortification wrapping around your ribs like a vice. Steve coughed into his fist, visibly uncomfortable, but Bucky—Bucky still hadn’t looked away. The weight of his silence pressed against you, heavier than any words could be. He didn’t flinch, didn’t frown, didn’t even raise a damn eyebrow. He just watched as if waiting for you to offer something. An explanation. A reaction.

You swallowed hard.

Yelena, meanwhile, had absolutely no shame.

“Some people take the week actually to get to know each other,” she continued with a smirk. “Others treat it like a festival fling. A week-long one-night stand, if you will.” 

She turned to Bucky then, eyes glinting. “You seem like the type who’d do a Mayflame run.”

Bucky finally exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “You get that from watching me pick flowers?”

Yelena leant in. “No, I got it from watching you look at her.”

Your breath hitched.

Bucky didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all. He just held her gaze for a long moment before standing, dusting the dirt from his hands with deliberate ease.

“We should get these back,” he said.

That was it. No denial.

Your pulse thrummed in your ears as Yelena shot you a triumphant look, nudging your arm with her elbow. You shoved her back harder than necessary, grabbing your basket with too much force.

—

You had braided sweetpeas into your hair, their delicate petals—a cascade of soft pinks, purples, and whites—woven carefully through your strands. The fragrance clung to you, sweet and fleeting, barely noticeable except when the wind stirred just right. You didn’t know why you had done it. Maybe it was a whim, an idle distraction while you got ready for the Mayflame. Maybe it was some quiet hope you refused to name, a foolish sentiment born from the strange afternoon. Or maybe, worse than all of that, it was the loneliness of returning to an empty house.

Leif had left while you were gone. You hadn’t seen him pack or even heard the door shut behind him. Just silence, so much silence. His absence had been waiting for you like a ghost when you stepped inside. No trace of him remained, save for a few scuff marks on the wooden floor and a half-finished bottle of cider in the kitchen. You had stared at it for a long time before scrubbing the house clean in a fit of confused energy as if sweeping away the dust might sweep away the ache in your chest.

Did you even want to run tonight? If it always turned out this way?

Leif had been inevitable—his leaving, even more so. The one before him barely lasted the week. And the first... gods, the first. You didn’t let yourself think about that one.

Yet here you were, standing in the dark forest, a burning torch in your hand.

The other women huddled together, whispering in excited clusters, their laughter soft and secretive beneath the trees. The firelight flickered over their masked faces, catching on the gilded edges and painted symbols of the goddess of spring. Yelena was causing trouble somewhere in the throng, as always, her voice carrying through the dark.

“I swear, I can pick them out. I just need a second,” she was saying.

You sighed, already knowing exactly what she was up to.

“It’s a useless pursuit,” you had reminded her earlier. “They’ll be masked, everyone will. That’s the whole point.”

And yet, she was determined. You caught a glimpse of her through the shifting bodies, her blonde hair twisted into an elaborate crown braid behind her fox mask, taunting the gathered men. They stood on the opposite side of the clearing, a sea of darkened figures illuminated only by flickering torchlight. The line between hunter and hunted might have blurred if not for their masks.

You fiddled with the edges of your own mask, adjusting it once more against your face. Each mask bore the likeness of a creature of the forest—the women had prey animals: deer, rabbits, and foxes. You had chosen a wide-eyed doe, its carved wooden surface smooth against your fingertips. The men, in contrast, wore the guises of predators: wolves, bears, and great hunting birds.

A shiver trailed down your spine as you scanned their ranks, the shadows swallowing their bodies.

This was fate, they said. A tradition older than the Blooded Age. The goddess of spring would take the helm, guiding her children together. 

Destiny, not choice.

You weren’t sure you believed in fate anymore.

Still, you craned your neck, searching for Yelena again before the race began. Some women had already lined up at the start, their torches raised, waiting for the signal. You pushed through the crowd, weaving past a group of masked rabbits, your torch casting long, twisting shadows over the forest floor.

Yelena stood at the edge of the men’s group, utterly unbothered, her fox mask tilted slightly as she studied them. The smirk you couldn’t see was undoubtedly plastered across her face.

“Lena,” you called lightly.

She turned towards you, still distracted. “You’d think we’d be able to recognise them even with the masks, right? They should be massive, but it’s so hard to tell in the dark—”

You grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. “Come on.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled.

As you turned, your torchlight swept over a lone figure standing at the edge of the men’s group. Half-shrouded in shadow, his wolf mask glinted in the firelight. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet there was an unmistakable intensity in his standing and watching.

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze.

Tugging Yelena along, you stepped towards the start line.

The time was near.

You gathered your skirts with one hand, feeling the rough fabric in your fist. The cool night air licked at your skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Around you, the other women shifted in anticipation, their torches flickering like stars in the dark. Somewhere beyond the trees, the men waited. Watching.

A hush fell over the gathered crowd. Then—

The drum sounded.

The tension snapped, and you ran.

Flames bobbed wildly as the women surged forward, feet pounding against the forest floor. Laughter rang through the night, breathless and high, voices calling to one another before being swallowed by the trees.

Yelena was gone in an instant, lost in the chaos.

You barely had time to register it before you were weaving between trunks, torchlight bouncing wildly in your periphery. Your skirts whipped around your legs, the rough fabric catching on twigs and undergrowth, but you didn’t slow. The forest stretched wide before you, vast and shrouded in shadows.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribs.

It was exhilarating.

You could hear the others somewhere to your left, their laughter spilling through the trees, echoing their footfalls blending with your own. And behind you, somewhere in the dark, the men had begun their pursuit.

The sound of movement grew. Leaves rustled, and twigs snapped. 

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t dare look back.

Instead, you pushed forward, your torchlight slicing through the thick night. The distant hum of music reached your ears, the festival, just beyond the treeline. You were close. So close.

Then—impact.

A weight slammed into you from the side, knocking the air from your lungs. Your torch flew from your grasp, landing somewhere in the brush, its flame sputtering but not extinguished.

You hit the ground hard, back pressing into the cool earth, the scent of moss and crushed leaves filling your senses. Above you, a broad figure loomed, breathing heavily from the chase.

The dim torchlight barely illuminated him, casting jagged shadows across the carved wolf mask that stared down at you. The smooth, wooden surface gave away nothing—no expression, no hint of who was beneath it.

Your pulse thundered.

Around you, the chase still roared on. Footsteps pounded the earth, laughter echoing as others darted past, unseen but near.

You swallowed hard, your breath coming fast, your chest rising and falling. You had been caught.

But gods, it was thrilling.

The figure above you didn’t move, as if waiting—for what, you weren’t sure. His hands were braced on either side of you, caging you in, his breath still heavy from the chase. Yet he didn’t press his advantage or seize you like the others would have. Instead, he lingered, watching.

Then, in the flickering torchlight, he reached for your hair.

You barely breathed as his fingers tangled into the strands, the movement deliberate, almost reverent. Slowly, he plucked one of the deep violet sweetpeas from your braid, twirling it between his fingers before your masked face. The petals fluttered slightly with the motion, fragile between the ridges of his calloused fingertips.

A beat of silence stretched between you. Then, finally, his voice, low, deep, rough with exertion.

“Hey, sweetpea.”

The nickname sent a shock through you, something warm curling in your chest even as your breath hitched. Recognition dawned, sharp and sudden.

“Bucky?” You murmured, stunned.

Even if surprise coursed through you, it made sense. The sheer size of the body hovering above yours, the weight of him pressing into the earth, the controlled stillness…it was him. A reversed echo of your earlier position that day.

“How did you—”

“Your hair,” he interrupted, his voice quieter now, rougher. “You put flowers in your hair. I recognised it.”

He reached up, fingers catching the edge of his mask, and in a smooth motion, he pulled it free. The last flickers of the torch beside you cast just enough light to reveal the sweat beading on his brow, the shadows cutting across his sharp features—and the unmistakable, almost feral gleam in his eye.

Something deep inside you clenched at the sight.

You exhaled a breathless laugh, your hands instinctively sliding up his broad shoulders, fingers curling around the back of his neck. Beneath your palms, his skin was hot, his pulse hammering. “I didn’t think you were running.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He hesitated, head tilting slightly as footsteps dashed past, followed by an excited shriek from one of the other women. The sound faded into the trees, leaving you in perfect darkness, only the two of you remaining in the silence. “But—”

He trailed off, his voice thick with something unspoken. His weight above you was solid, immovable, and gods, you liked it.

“Do you want this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering, you twisted your arm, pulling your mask off. You weren’t sure he could see the grin curling your lips in the dark, so you let your actions speak for you. Tugging him closer, your chests collided, heat blooming between you.

“Yes,” you breathed.

And then his lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was molten, searing through your veins like wildfire. He wasn’t hesitant, wasn’t uncertain—he kissed you like he had been holding himself back for far too long, like the chase had only wound him tighter, and now he was unravelling against you.

You gasped into his mouth as he shifted, his weight pressing down on you, one hand sliding to your waist, fingers digging in, anchoring you to him. His other hand tangled in your hair, gripping just enough to make your head tilt back, giving him full access. He took it eagerly, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a slow, devastating stroke.

Heat pooled in your stomach, your legs shifting beneath him, but then—

With shocking ease, he moved.

For a brief second, you were weightless, a startled sound escaping your lips as he lifted you effortlessly from the ground. You barely had time to react before your back hit rough bark, the solid tree trunk now bracing you. His hands were firm as they guided your legs around his waist, pinning you in place. You could already feel his cock growing hard, pressed into one of your thighs as you squirmed beneath him.

A shudder wracked through you at his sheer strength, the way he handled you like you weighed nothing. The last remnants of your composure shattered when his lips found your throat, the scrape of his teeth ghosting over sensitive skin. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, the sensation overwhelming and utterly intoxicating.

"You run fast, angel," he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and teasing. His lips trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. "But not fast enough."

A breathless laugh escaped you, your fingers threading into his hair, pulling just enough to make him look at you. In the darkness, his blue eyes burned.

“I didn’t want to get away.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, and he just looked at you for a moment. Then, his grip on your waist loosened, fingers slipping beneath your skirts. He let out a deep groan as his digits navigated past your underwear, sweeping through the wetness already gathered. “You’re so wet already.”

You threw your head back at the small act of friction, your skull pressing hard into the rough bark as your chest heaved. He did one final pass, stroking through your folds. In the close distance between your faces, you could see a smirk lingering as your hips rocked involuntarily, begging for more. 

Bucky brought his fingers to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he pressed them flat against his tongue, dragging them slowly past his lips. His eyelids fluttered briefly, his breath coming heavier as he tasted you, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his chest. “Mmm.”

Heat coiled in your stomach at the sound, something deep and electric winding tight inside you. 

“Bucky—” The whine clawed unexpectedly from your throat, raw with desperation.

He smirked, his expression both teasing and dark, his hand slipping between your bodies.

“I know, sweetpea,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers fumbled blindly with his belt, metal clinking softly in the hush of the forest. You could feel his hunger in the way his body pressed against yours, restless, taut with restraint he was barely clinging to.

You rolled your hips against his hand, a breathless sigh spilling from your lips as friction sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs. He inhaled sharply, his head tilting slightly as if savouring the way you reacted to him.

“Tell me,” he coaxed, his voice lower now, almost commanding.

Your fingers curled against his shoulders, nails digging in. Your head tipped back against the tree's rough bark, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your lips parted around the words.

“I need you,” you whispered. “Now.”

Something snapped in his expression.

Bucky didn’t hesitate.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his fingers hooked into the delicate fabric of your underwear. His patience was fraying. No careful undressing, no gentle peeling away. His grip was rough and decisive, a growl slipping from his throat as he gave one sharp tug. The fabric tore effortlessly beneath his fast fingers, the sound lost beneath the hammering of your pulse in your ears. He didn’t even bother pulling them down—too impatient, too consumed by need.

You could practically feel your wetness dripping down to your thighs as he blindly lined himself up, cock pushing into your needy heat. Your head dipped, your mouth finding the top of his shoulder as you bit down lightly with a soft cry. The world beyond this moment—the festival, the music, the laughter—blurred into nothingness. The only thing that existed was the feverish press of his body, the way his fingers dug into your skin, anchoring you to him as if he never wanted to let go.

“Fuck.” He hummed low in your ear. His voice strained as he slowly rocked in and out of you. You could tell he was restraining himself, his muscles taut along his back. You hooked your legs around his waist tighter, pulling your bodies flush. 

Bucky tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your jaw before finally finding your mouth, desperate and all-consuming. His pace faltered for a moment, a quiet groan slipping from his throat as you tightened around him.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ perfect—” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer. Your breath was hot against his neck and ear as you whispered. “Then don’t stop.”

Any type of restraint the hero had been holding snapped, his hips immediately jerking into action, beginning a relentless pace, withdrawing from you only to slam back inside. Each thrust sent sparks through your body, pleasure coiling tighter, overwhelming in its intensity. One of his hands roamed, sliding down your thigh to where you connected.

You let out a gasping moan into his shoulder as his thumb found your clit, the added circling motion sending a spike of pleasure up your spine. You felt your cunt tighten around him again as you jolted from the sensation, back arching inward. 

“Bucky—” You groaned into his ear, head tilting as you laid hot, sloppy kisses that were all lips and tongue along his neck. You could taste salt on his skin, sweat beginning to mist both of you. The squelching and slapping sounds of your connected bodies echoed through the dark forest,  the both of you barely holding back the pleasured moans and gasps. 

“You gonna cum for me, angel?” Bucky growled against your throat. Your toes curled in delight. His strokes were already growing frantic and sloppy. You pushed yourself back against the trunk, chest heaving as you used your grip around his waist to grind yourself upon his thumb further. A coiling sensation grew in your gut, a knot beginning to tighten. You closed your eyes with a gasp, chasing the sensation. 

“Y-Yes.” You stammered through your pants, nails digging into his shoulders as your body began to shudder around him. Bucky let out a dark chuckle, straining through his grit teeth as he continued to plough into you. His thumb circled once more, gentle but practiced. You felt your back arch involuntarily—

You moan his name as every wave of pleasure washes over you. Your hips buck and your thighs shake, but he doesn’t let up. His cock strokes inside of you at a continued relentless pace, and he moans right along with you. Bucky’s hand began to roam along your legs, gripping your flesh tighter as he chased his own release. There would be finger-shaped bruises all over your hips and thighs by the time this was over. 

You’re panting above him. Eyes closed, the grip on his shoulders slackening as ropes of thick, hot cum fill you. His cock throbs, each pump releasing even more, only stopping as his hips stutter and his heated moans in your ear fade. 

The two of you panted in the aftermath. Bodies still pressed together as the sounds of the forest slowly filtered back into your ears—the distant thrum of festival music, the rustling leaves overhead, the occasional laughter of those still running through the trees. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

Bucky shifted first, pressing a lingering kiss to the base of your throat, his lips warm and soft against your sweat-dampened skin. His breath fanned over your collarbone as he slowly and carefully lowered you to your feet. Your knees nearly buckled when they touched the earth, your legs trembling with exhaustion. A startled gasp left you as you clung to him for support, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Easy, sweetpea,” he murmured, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his chest as he steadied you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. His touch was grounding and reassuring, though the heat in his gaze told you he wasn’t entirely done with you yet.

You huffed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to look at him. 

“You know we have to go to the dance now, right?” Though amusement laced your tone, you could already picture the knowing smirks Yelena and the others would shoot you when you finally emerged.

Bucky smirked, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Even better,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “All I’ll be able to think about is those little noises you make... and that mess between your legs.”

Your breath hitched, a shiver rolling down your spine despite the lingering warmth in your limbs. You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly once more at the thought of his hands on you again, the way he had unravelled you so easily.

He tilted your chin up with a single finger, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips before stepping back slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 “Come on, sweetpea,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with mischief as he laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s go dance.”

—

By the time you and Bucky arrived, the festival was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced cider, and the smoky tang of bonfires. Laughter and music filled the clearing, the rhythmic beat of drums and the sweet hum of strings carrying through the night. Couples swayed to the music, feet shuffling against the packed earth as villagers danced in loose circles, the warmth of drink and celebration evident in every movement.

You barely had time to take it all in before a chorus of knowing smirks and raised brows greeted your arrival. Yelena, seated at a long wooden table with a tankard of something strong in hand, nearly choked on her drink when she spotted you—your slightly dishevelled hair, the flush still clinging to your skin, and Bucky’s possessive grip on your waist.

“About time,” she called with a grin, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Did you get lost?”

Bucky, unbothered, merely smirked and tugged you towards the dancing. “Something like that.”

You shot her a look, but it was impossible to ignore the amused glances and hushed whispers behind you. You tried not to think about the wet mess—a combination of both your fluids nesting between your thighs. Bucky had offered you a handkerchief to clean up, but the small square of fabric had done little against the wetness dripping down your thigh. What didn’t help was the thought of that handkerchief he casually tucked back into his pocket before you could protest. Your lips parted, ready with some half-hearted excuse, but Bucky spun you into his arms before you could respond.

The moment he pulled you into the dance, the rest of the festival seemed to fade into the background. His hands found your waist, guiding you through the steps with ease, music thrumming beneath your skin. Everything was intoxicating, with the warmth of his palm against the small of your back and the gentle pressure of his fingers as he led you.

His lips dipped close to your ear as you moved, swaying to the rhythm. “So, who is this Leif guy?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then sighed, your fingers tightening slightly against his shoulder. “Oh—just… my last Springbond.” 

The words felt foreign on your tongue now, distant. “It didn’t really work out in the end.”

Bucky hummed, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles over your hip. “Why not? Sounded like you lasted longer than a week.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze.

“Well… we just had different paths. He wanted to explore, adventure, sleep around…” You trailed off, gaze flickering to the firelight dancing in his blue eyes. “I was looking to settle. I’m just tired after everything. I feel you would understand that.”

His grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his gaze dark and steady as he murmured, “I understand you completely, angel.”

Something in the way he said it made your chest ache, warmth curling in your stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the fire or the wine or the exhilaration of the chase. He understood.

You held his gaze, the firelight dancing over his face. There was something ancient in his eyes, something heavy, worn by time and battle. You had known, of course, what he and Steve were before they arrived in New Fernwick—everyone did.

And yet, when the war ended, when the Riftborn were vanquished and peace finally settled over the world, they had simply walked away. But peace was a fickle thing, and you often wondered if it had truly found them in return.

Bucky’s fingers flexed against your waist, grounding you back in the present.

“You ever think about it?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head slightly, the movement curious. “Think about what?”

You hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “The way things used to be. Before.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away.

“Sometimes.” His voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “I don’t miss it. But it’s hard to let go of something that shaped you.”

You nodded, understanding. The past had a way of clinging to people, no matter how far they ran.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. 

“Steve took to peace like it was always meant for him. I think he’s been waiting for it his whole life. Me…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a faint line. “I think I’m still figuring it out.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. He deserved peace just as much as anyone else.

As the music slowed, your hands slid from his shoulders, fingers tracing the length of his arms before settling over his. His grip tightened instinctively like he knew what you were about to say.

“Come home with me.” The words were quiet, tentative, but certain.

Bucky stilled for half a beat, and then his lips parted, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No doubt. Just certainty, as if he had been waiting for you to ask.

—

The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, stepping inside with Bucky close behind you. You moved awkwardly through the space, glancing at the walls, the furniture, anything but him, as though it could distract from the knot forming in your stomach. The house felt both too small and too big now, the empty rooms amplifying the tension in the air.

Bucky stepped in after you, his boots echoing softly on the wooden floor as he glanced around. His gaze lingered on the fire's warm glow in the hearth, he seemed at ease. His eyes scanned every corner of the space, taking in the simple comforts of home. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

You shifted nervously, breaking the silence with an anxious laugh. “You don’t actually have to do the full week if you don’t want to... I mean, most people just use it as an excuse to get off work—” Your words stumbled out, and you cut yourself off, realising how ridiculous you probably sounded.

Bucky turned toward you, his eyes dark with amusement but softened with something else, a quiet intensity. He was silent for a long moment, focusing entirely on you. Finally, his lips quirked up, and his voice was low and deliberate.

“Sweetpea, I love the sound of your beautiful voice, but just shut up... and kiss me.”

Before you could respond, his hands were already pulling you close, his mouth slanting over yours in a searing kiss that left no room for hesitation. You melted against him, your body pressing into his with a soft urgency, both of you stumbling as you navigated the space towards the bed. His grip on you was firm and reassuring, yet there was a rawness to it, an unspoken need that made your heart race faster.

You fumbled through the room together, bumping into furniture. Your hands sought purchase on his broad chest or tangled in his hair as you kissed desperately, blindly. The dim light from the hearth barely illuminated the path ahead. His lips were warm and hungry, pulling at yours with an intensity that made your pulse spike.

There was a quiet reassurance in how his hands roamed over your body, the steady pressure of his touch as though he wanted to anchor you in the here and now. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating this like a fleeting moment. You laughed softly against his lips as you stumbled into the bed, falling together in a tangled heap of limbs and tangled sheets. For a moment, all that mattered was the warmth of his skin against yours, the unspoken understanding that this was something different, something real. 

Something that could last.

[remiratboi]

Filled

Masterlist

Arranged Marriage Trope ~ 2.8K Words

Wolf-Hybrid!HusbandXHuman!GNFatReader

CW: Arranged marriage, distant relationship, mild bdsm, mild dom/sub vibes, dominant personality more than anything else, masturbation, knotting, size kink, breeding. Honestly it’s pretty tame compared to a lot of my stuff.

It was an arranged marriage. Two powerful families, a long time feud, and a wedding to forge the peace. It wasn’t unique, but it was uniquely awful for you.

Your new husband was a large, stoic wolf hybrid. He was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that. He was well over 6 feet, and his tight black dress shirts did little to hide the muscles he touted. His fur was dark grey, like a misty mountain range. Sometimes you imagined touching it.

You felt dwarfed, which wasn’t something your chubby ass had experienced much. So that was nice.

But that’s where the positives ended. Yes, you looked great on his arm, a slinky black gown to match his silky black slacks and shirt, but you had no connection.

He seemed uninterested or unwilling to get to know you. You figured, if you were going to have to spend your lives together, you could at least develop a friendship. It wasn’t the love filled marriage you’d dreamed of, but it could still be a partnership, nonetheless.

You tried everything you could think of to seduce the absolute brick of a man. You flirted with him during every interaction you could. You brought him little treats you had baked while he worked. You rubbed his shoulders after a long day. Nothing seemed to make him warm to you.

He seemed comfortable having you around, but also seemed to have no interest in interacting with you, unless you initiated it. It was starting to drive you mad.

You’d noticed little things about him that were more subtle. Things you didn’t realize he’d do. He always protected you when he was around. You were… clumsy to say the least, and the amount of times he’d caught your dumb ass as you were about to fall was kind of comical. It got to the point he always had a hand hovering around you. At your lower back, your hip, your thigh. It was almost like he gravitated around you.

Then there was his eyes. He didn’t express much on his face, in his dangerous line of work, he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop his eyes. You’d learned to read him from watching his eyes. You’d be in meetings together, and without fail you could guess his response. The subtle ways his brows furrowed when he was interested, and listening intently. Or the fire that flashed when he got annoyed.

You noticed his eyes when he looked at you as well. You couldn’t tell what it was, but there was a distinct, unique look in his eyes when he looked at you. And a faint blush to his cheeks when you caught him staring.

You’d started thinking maybe something would come of you two after all, but despite your ever boldening efforts, nothing happened.

Finally, after nearly a year of this new life, you were pent up, and frustrated. You shared a bed, which made any sort of self pleasure extremely difficult. Normally you could time things for when he was busy, or showering. But one night, much later than you would have liked to be asleep, your cunt throbbed.

You squirmed lightly in the large king size bed. He lay mere inches from you, soft snores rising from his chest. His face was serene, calm. You didn’t get to see him at peace very often. You’d begun to cherish seeing him like this.

You couldn’t focus long enough to go to sleep. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal. You wanted to be fucked. It had been so long. Prior to the wedding, you’d been told he’d expect you to fulfil certain… duties. But he’d never touched you in that way aside from a chaste kiss at your wedding.

You’d spent years of your life before meeting him, fearing the tyrant man you’d likely marry, and sometimes, dreaming about the handsome man you’d marry. But you were met with him, something you’d never expected or imagined. Uninterested.

You whined softly to yourself. You were desperate. He was asleep… right? You listened to his breathing. It sounded even. His soft snores solidified your decision.

You turned to lay on your back, a hand snaked down to gently rub your aching clit. You almost moaned out loud, your other hand whipping to your mouth to cover it. He was so close. He was so beautiful. You wanted him. It surprised you how confident you were in that asseratation. You spun your fingers in circles on your small bud while gazing at his face.

You imagined his hands on your body. Those huge, strong hands. What things had he done with those hands? The idea of such violence colliding with your soft, pliable body, had you stifling another moan.

You dipped lower and sunk two fingers into your cunt. You couldn’t help a whimper slipping through. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You wanted him to fill you, you wanted him to take you. Why couldn’t he just want you back?!

You groaned in frustration, your fingers desperately pushing in and out of you. You were starting to think you wouldn’t be able to cum while staring at his face, wanting him so badly.

“Please…” you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

His eyes snapped open. You yelped and scrambled to pull your fingers out of your body, your positioning clear.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He demanded, his voice dark, an edge you couldn’t place to it. He turned to look at you, his eyes raking down the thin sheet that covered you. Your pj shorts were pulled to your knees, your tank pulled up and over your chest. All that stopped him from seeing you on full display was that barely there sheet. You felt your nipples harden and his eyes flashed down from yours to stare.

“Answer.” He gave no room for argument. His eyes didn’t leave your chest.

“I, uh, I must have been having a bad dream. Sorry I wo-” he didn’t let you finish. He ripped the sheet off of your body and before you could even react, he climbed on top of you, pinning you down underneath him. He held your hands above your head in one thick fist, his knees in between your legs, holding them open. His other hand lightly caressed your round, soft tummy.

“Do not lie to me.” He whispered into your ear, leaning down so his face was next to yours. “You have one more chance to explain why you are almost naked, moaning out my name like a slut.”

Your cheeks burned. You turned your head and squeezed your eyes hoping maybe that would make it all go away.

His warm breath on your face told you it wouldn’t.

“I… I… I was just…” you didn’t know what to say. I was just fingering myself while desperately thinking about you fucking me?! Yeah… no.

He stared at your face. You peeked up at him, surprised by the slight smirk you could see playing in his lips. You had thought he was furious? But maybe…

“I was touching myself.” You spoke softly. Embarrassed still. Even with your soaking cunt spread open for him.

“What were you imagining?” He replied, not missing a beat.

“You.” You practically whispered. He groaned above you.

“Show me what you were doing.” He leaned back and let go of your wrists. He sat back on his calves, kneeled in between your thighs still. You looked up at him, eyes wide with uncertainty. He nodded curtly towards your exposed pussy. He brought his hands up to massage idly at your thick thighs. His thumbs ran along stretch marks and dimples near your hips.

You squirmed, hesitant to perform such a vulnerable action in front of another person. He turned his face from the flesh of your thighs he was handling, up to yours and caught your gaze. “This is your final warning. Do not push me, love.” His tone, deadly. You found your cheeks burning even hotter at the casual term of affection he’d used.

You couldn’t pull your eyes from his, but slowly lowered your hand down to your clit. You rubbed yourself unenthusiastically.

Your husband who had never seemed as wolf-like as he did now, tsked at you. “I don’t think pathetic movements like those were what made you moan my name.” He reminded you again of your embarrassment.

You whimpered and a shudder ran through him. You reached your fingers further, and pressed two shallowly into your cunt. You were surprised by how much more wet you had become. The fear, the uncertainty of his next move, had you on edge like never before.

“Now, tell me, no don’t stop moving.” He interrupted himself when you paused. “That’s right, now tell me, why were you imagining me while fingering yourself? Why were you staring at my face while trying to make yourself cum?” You thought your cheeks couldn’t have gotten more red and hot until he had said that.

“I, please, just let this go, and we can pretend nothing happened.” You begged him, pleading eyes gazing up at his unimpressed ones. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t listen very well, do you?” His tone was threatening. He flipped you over in the blink of an eye, and pressed your soft, round body into the bed. You felt his rock hard cock press into your ass from behind through his pyjamas. Your eyes flew open at the realisation of how turned on he was.

“Does that make you less self conscious, love?” He asked, patronisingly, grinding his hips against you. “You might even get a reward if you’re a good slut for me.” You felt yourself get even wetter, if that was possible.

“I was thinking about you fucking me, because I think I might be in love with you, and you never even give me the time of day, and we are just laying in this bed every night, so close and yet so far and I hate it and I don’t know what to do!” You shouted in a chaotic, blubbering stream. You gasped a breath after the words had finished tumbling from your mouth. You hadn’t really meant to say quite that many words…

For a long moment, your wolf hybrid husband was motionless above you. Your face was pressed into the mattress. Tears began to prick the edges of your eyes with each second that dragged on.

“But… I’m a monster?” He asked quietly. “I thought maybe you were just horny and wanted a quick fuck with a warm body.” He flipped you around, your face inches from his. He stared at you with large, round eyes. The stern, controlling man who held you seconds ago was gone, replaced by a shy puppy. “You love me?” He asked. You could see uncertainty flash through his eyes.

“You’re my husband.” You replied, the doubt clear even as you said the words.

The handsome man looking down at you scoffed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You didn’t choose me. You didn’t get to have a say. I didn’t want to take advantage of our situation. I know…” he trailed off. “I know there are unfair expectations for physical relations in arranged marriages, but I swore I’d never be that kind of man, I’d never push you to do anything. I promised myself I’d never let you know how desperately I wanted you.” His eyes widened as he seemed to realise what he said as he said it.

“You’re my mate, I think.” You spoke softly, uncertain of yourself as well. You reached up and pressed your hand against his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into your touch.

When he opened his eyes again, they were solid black. “Those are dangerous words, love.” He smelled your arousal on the hand that cupped his face. You hadn’t registered it was the hand previously fingering your cunt.

“I like danger.” You said despite its cheesiness. It worked. Your mate chuckled.

“You like monsters too?” He asked again. A smirk had replaced his wide eyed surprise. His hard cock pressing against your soft tummy reminded him of your current predicament. You nodded enthusiastically at his question.

“Who would have thought, my precious, little human mate would be a desperate slut for wolves.” You dipped your head at his words but he pulled your chin back up, dragging your eyes to meet his.

“I love you too, I have for a very long time.” He kissed you, long and hard. The first real kiss you’d ever shared. You felt yourself gripping him everywhere, both of your hands touching the others bodies. He squeezed your hips, fingers and claws digging into your flesh.

He nipped down your neck, not breaking the skin, but enough to leave a trail of marks. You felt his hand go to his waistband, and he groaned as he released his cock. You had known it would be big, but big didn’t even begin to describe the behemoth in front of you. You felt your face pale.

The wolf above you licked his lips. “I know you can take it. One of the reasons I like my partners to be a bit thicker, better to manhandle, eh?” He teased you.

You looked between his face and cock, and his apparent disregard of your concern just made you wetter.

“I can smell you, slut.” He looked down at you with smug eyes. “Yeah, you’ll take me alright. Even if it have to make you.” A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes, and you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You second guessed yourself. You started trying to protest, but he covered your mouth with one large hand. “Now now, none of that. As you said, you’re my mate. You’ll love it.”

He slowly worked his head into you, and it was already breathtaking. You felt fuller than you’d ever felt, but anxiety at his size rose even further. Before you had a chance to protest, he started pushing deeper.

He wasn’t rough, but he definitely wasn’t gentle. He fucked into you with shallow thrusts, each pushing deeper than the last, until you could feel his knot battering at your entrance. The stretch was overwhelming, but you could feel the shadow of pleasure behind it.

Once he was at his full length, minus the knot, he started fucking you in earnest. He bent your legs up and over his shoulders, and practically folded you in half. It felt amazing to be so easily manoeuvred. Any stress you’d carried about being too big for him, melted away with each desperate caress he gave you. It was like he couldn’t touch enough of you at once.

The pain from his size kept fading, but the pleasure only built. Soon you were loudly crying out with each thrust. He grunted above you. He spoke of filling you with his seed, breeding you.

You could feel your orgasm growing as his thrusts got rougher. His hand snaked up to your neck, and you watched a wicked smile cross his face. He pressed into your neck, squeezing your throat. Your hands raised to his arm, trying to pull him away. It was almost comical, your tiny fingers prying at his thick muscular arm.

You started seeing spots and panic filled you. Your husband stared directly into your eyes as you struggled beneath him.

“Good pet, you can do it, don’t worry.” His comforting words sounded like they were too far away. You felt his knot pushing against your cunt. You tried to scream, but no sound could move past his fist on your neck.

Everything collided at once. Your vision was fading and your orgasm rising in front of you when he slammed his knot deep into your pussy. You screamed, even though no sounds came out. You both came, hard. He released your throat, and peppered you with kisses while you rode out to spasms.

Hot cum poured into your battered cunt as his thrusts turned erratic and staggered. He couldn’t move much due to his knot, but he did what he could. You felt the huge pressure drag up and down the entrance of your pussy. He came for so long, longer than your entire orgasm. You were coming down while he was still filling you up. You gripped each other's bodies, sweat and saliva mixing.

He collapsed to the side, pulling you up and on top of him, his cock still wedged deep inside you. You moaned involuntarily at the movement.

“Hmmm, I hope that was better than your fingers.” He hummed, amused. You grinned down at him.

“Marginally.” You teased. He looked up at you with offence and you winked, leaning down to kiss him again. You didn’t think the excitement of that was going to wear off any time soon.

[girlinterupptedsblog]

Raw, Next Question

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You (Best Friends to ???)

Warnings: Smut, Sexual Tension, Friends-to-Lovers Vibes, Light Teasing, Mutual Attraction, Slight Possessiveness

Summary: It started as a joke. Rafe sent you a shirtless gym pic, and you responded with a flirty TikTok reference. But when he calls you out on it, things quickly spiral into something neither of you can ignore.

Rafe was always sending you pictures of himself. It was just a thing he did—whether he was bored, feeling himself, or just wanted attention. And you were used to it. You’d gotten everything from drunken selfies to pictures of him lounging shirtless by the pool, flexing in the mirror just to show off. But today’s was… different.

You were in the middle of scrolling through your phone when the notification popped up.

Rafe: [Image]

You tapped the message, expecting something ridiculous, only to be met with the sight of Rafe at the gym. Shirtless. Sweaty. Flexing.

His muscles were on full display, every inch of his toned chest and arms glistening under the fluorescent lights. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, and the way he was holding his phone—angled slightly down—made the entire thing feel intentionally suggestive.

You barely thought twice before typing out a reply.

You: Raw, next question.

It was a joke. A stupid TikTok trend. You didn’t even expect him to respond right away. But not even a minute later, your phone started ringing.

You hesitated, staring at his name lighting up your screen, before finally swiping to answer.

“What?” you answered casually, trying not to sound like you were overthinking your reply now.

“Raw?” His voice came through the speaker, low and amused.

You rolled your eyes. “It was a joke, Rafe.”

He let out a slow, knowing hum. “Nah, see, I don’t think it was.”

“Oh my god.”

“I think you saw that picture and actually thought about it.”

“Please,” you scoffed, heat creeping up your neck. “You send me shit like that all the time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t usually say you want me raw.”

You groaned, flopping back on your bed. “That’s not what I—”

“I think it is,” he cut you off. “I think you saw me flexing, thought about how good I look, and said exactly what was on your mind.”

His voice had dropped lower, turning smug and teasing.

“You’re literally delusional,” you muttered.

“Am I?” There was a slight shuffle on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

“In my room. Why?”

“Open your window.”

Your stomach flipped. “Rafe—”

“Open it.”

You sighed but got up anyway, crossing the room to push open your window. And sure enough, there he was, standing outside in the dim glow of the porch light, still wearing his gym shorts, still shirtless, phone still pressed to his ear.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re fucking insane.”

“You gonna let me in or what?”

You hesitated for half a second before stepping back and letting him climb through. He moved smoothly, like he’d done it a million times before—which, to be fair, he had. But this time, there was a different energy between you.

You could feel it as he stood there, looking at you, eyes darker than before.

He took a step closer, then another, until he was right in front of you, the heat of his bare skin radiating between you.

“So,” he said, tilting his head, “raw, huh?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain some sort of control over the situation. “It was a joke.”

He reached out, fingers barely grazing your hip. “What if it wasn’t?”

Your breath caught.

Rafe took another step, backing you up against your bed. His hands found your waist, warm and steady, his touch featherlight but deliberate.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice dripping with challenge.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering. But you didn’t say a word.

His lips curled into a smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was hungry, possessive—the kind of kiss that left no room for second-guessing. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you against him, and you barely had time to process the way his bare chest felt against you before he was guiding you back onto the bed.

“You talk a big game,” he murmured against your lips, “but I think you like this more than you let on.”

[pittrabbit]

content: smut, dry humping, morning night shenanigans with abbot and his controversially young gf, handjob, fingering, banter, etc etc etc.

note: wrote this in fifteen minutes without proofreading cuz i woke up thinking about waking up next to his fine ass

➽──────────────────❥

"sweetheart, come- come on."

it was a combination of a sigh and a groan, but being an expert in all things jack abbot, you knew his frustration was not aimed at you, but at his current circumstances.

"just five more minutes. please." you made sure to drag the 'e' at the end for that special effect that always had him rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

"i gotta go to work, baby, you know that." he attempted again, though making no effort to actually separate himself from you.

laid in bed, you practically held him hostage — yes, him, the man who could deadlift your entire bodyweight with no issue. the same man whose wrists you were always eyeing due to their muscular girth (something you had no idea you were even attracted to). the one and only, who had military training and could get you off him within milliseconds if he so wished.

but that was the whole point. he didn't want to. he didnt want to separate your lips from his stubbled jaw. he didnt want to get your grabby hands away from his chest. much less did he want to remove the leg you had perched over his waist, effectively holding him down on the bed.

he knew he had to go. knew that in about thirty minutes he was supposed to relieve robby of his duties and take on the role of senior attending for the night shift.

yet he stayed glued to bed, still grumbling and feigning any sort of inconvenience at your clinginess.

instead of doing what he knew he had to do, his large hand grabbed onto the meat of your thigh, pulling it higher on his waist, making sure you wrapped it tighter around him and ultimately closer. his body turned towards yours, now facing you.

with an experimental roll of his hips, he had you nibbling on the skin of his jaw with a muffled gasp.

"thought you had to go." you mumbled, furthering your touches by digging your nails into his bicep, not minding the scratch marks you'd be leaving there (not that he'd mind either).

"always got time for my girl, you know that." he huffed, pulling his face back and chasing your own. your lips were caught in a kiss moments later.

your tongue tangled with his, lazy and mellow, adhering to the comfortable vibe of the night. both pairs of hips ground into one another, uncaring of the few remaining layers of clothing between you.

even with his boxers and your panties, you could feel the perfect friction between you. you were both too sleepy to seek out more, so you opted for this instead. the more you did it, the more desperate your movements became, practically humping at each other like animals.

the clock was running, but jack knew that he wouldnt stop until you were left fully satiated. he was a provider, a giver, and his first priority ever since meeting you had been to give you everything you needed. and right now he knew you needed him, specially with the knowledge that he wouldnt be back for twelve hours (if he was lucky).

"god, sweetheart. feel so fucking good." his hand dug into your hip, running his palm up and down its length. "so soft and sweet for me."

his hand found its way under your panties then, a tight squeeze since you were tied so closely to him, but once he made it, a groan left his mouth at what he found.

"so wet this soon? what, were you dreaming about me, gorgeous?" he was teasing, but the likely answer was a yes, and that bit made him dizzy with desire for you.

what had he become? just one pretty moan from you and he was putty in your hands. one look from you and he was willing to go through a lecture from robby about being on time if it meant he could draw at least one orgasm from you before work.

you switched positions, no longer rubbing against each other but now unable to keep your hands away from one another. your hand made its way under his boxers while his remained under your panties. he was an expert in your pleasure, using the dip of his wrist to rub at your clit while two of his fingers drew in and out of you. it was hard to keep focus while you moaned into his mouth, while your own hand worked on his dick, but he could be pretty one-track minded when it came to making you feel good.

"gonna come for me? c'mon, i've got you. y'know i always got you."

your response was given in unintelligible mumbles against his tongue, interrupted by suckles of his lips and tongue as you finally came.

he enjoyed the view for as long as he could, but was unable to keep his eyes on you for long when you gave him his orgasm in return. you moaned and gasped and panted into each other's mouths, hands needy and unable to stop touching one another for the entire duration of your highs (and even after the fact).

his cum made a mess between you, but you didn't seem to mind as you licked its remnants off your fingers, all while looking him dead in the eyes with a spent yet lustful look in your eyes.

"you're gonna kill me one of these days, kid."

you cuddled into him, not minding the mess between you and tying yourself around his body like a koala once more. "that'd be no fun." you boo'd at him. "need to keep my old man around for as long as i can."

he bit your shoulder jokingly, chuckling at your yelp and giving you a light slap on your butt before beginning to get up.

"i know, i know, i'm a terrible man." he lamented jokingly as you whined at the sudden lack of warmth around you.

"can't believe you're going to go save lives instead of staying in bed with your inappropriately young girlfriend."

"say that a few more times and maybe i'll start to believe it."

from your spot on the bed, you watched him get ready, fix his hair, brush his teeth, biting your lip and making lewd comments at his bare body, occasionally booing him when he covered up the bare skin you wanted to continue scratching at.

"if anyone gives you any shit, tell them i have enough of a libido for the two of us."

he actually belly laughed at that, stopping the buckling of his belt to lean in and give you a loud kiss on your lips.

"you've revived mine, kid. fucking temptress." he kissed you twice, thrice, before finally throwing on a shirt and getting ready to leave.

"you better not send me anything dirty while i'm working." were some of his final words before stepping out, continuing to keep his eyes on you as he gathered his wallet, stethoscope, etc. from around the bedroom.

"you know i will!" you teased back.

he walked over to you one last time, landing one last kiss on your lips.

"love you, sweetheart. keep sleeping, i'll be back soon."

"love you, doctor."

one last groan was released against your lips before he finally stepped out, knowing he'd have to do this all over again as soon as he got back home. he couldn't wait.

[seasidefallenangel]

i give an unending dream to you

men who can't fathom a future without you - so they refuse to let it happen ft. sae itoshi, sunday, malleus draconia

this is from @saetiate's post that she was kind enough to let me write a piece based off of

notes: yandere vibes (i'm back to my roots), fem reader, mildly unhealthy relationships, heavy possessiveness on the boys end, title is from this please listen to it and i'll give you ten thousand kisses

༄ sae:

“it’s like i’m fucking talking to a brick wall. the same shit keeps happening and it feels like you’re not trying at all,” you spit out with vitriol, slamming the cabinet shut in the kitchen as the wood splinters beneath your force.

if sae is even hearing you, he shows no signs of it. the entire time you’ve been screaming at him, throwing things, making accusations - he’s just been sitting atop one of the chairs at the island. his demeanor seems rather bored, if anything. you almost wish he’d fight back just so you know your words are reaching him in some way.

it’s only once tears of frustration begin to well in your eyes that he finally sighs and has the gall to ask, “are you finished?”

the sheer audacity of the question causes your tears to fall with anger, spiking your temper once more. you’re half a second away from cursing him out again but you know it’ll get you nowhere. instead, you clench your fists and huff before grabbing your car keys and silently making your way to the front door.

sometimes you forget just how fast sae is, because it’s as if he teleports in front of the door. he stares down at you with what seems to be indifference, but you know him well enough to sense the quiet fury behind his eyes - waiting to break free from its confines.

“you’re not going anywhere,” he tells you with no room to argue, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “not until your little temper tantrum is sorted.”

even though you try to tug away from him, it’s clear he’s not letting this go. sae is both the unstoppable force and the immovable object in everything he does. 

he brushes his lips against your ear for a brief moment before kissing beneath it. his voice is nearly a whisper when he speaks, “if you’re done being a brat, i’d like to at least get a word in before you leave and do something stupid.”

you narrow your eyes at him and scoff. well, at least he’s finally acknowledging you. “and if i hear you out, then can i leave?” his lips twitch in amusement. 

“not a chance.“

༄ sunday:

the parlor car is eerily silent, the rest of the express having sensed the incoming argument and opted to retreat to their rooms. sunday’s wings are twitching anxiously as he hovers close enough for you to be in his reach but not enough that you’ll freak out on him again. 

“my dove,” he says in that soothing voice of his, “don’t you feel you’re overreacting just a bit?” 

you want to crush his windpipe for even suggesting it, but something seeps into your brain as his words wrap around the depths of your psyche. it tells you to relax, let yourself be held in your lover's embrace once more. it’s peaceful, calming, alluring in its desire for you to submit yourself into what you know so well.

it’s not your voice at all.

“i should’ve known a control freak like you would try some shit like this,” you manage to get out through gritted teeth. forgive him, he loves you so dearly, echoes in your mind. the words nearly spill from your lips if not for you putting all your willpower into keeping your lips shut.

his expression goes from concern to disapproval in an instant. the sudden invasion of your personal space as he makes his way over isn’t lost on you. it’s his pattern - guilt, control, smother. 

“it seems i’ve underestimated you, my little rebel,” he muses, bringing your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “denying the harmony’s influence so easily -  it seems you’ve gotten strong without mentioning it to me.”

the implication of his words is clear ; if you can escape his honeyed words, what else will you do to slip from his grasp?

“no matter. you could do with some more training, wouldn’t you agree?”

༄ malleus:

the library is dead silent as you flip through one of the beginners magic textbooks crewel had given you. not that it’s odd for a library to be quiet, but the reason it’s more empty than usual is a rather odd occurrence. “can you linger a bit less menacingly?” you murmur in an irritated tone. 

malleus simply blinks owlishly at your request from the other side of the table. you’re used to him following you around out of sheer interest for your ‘human tendencies’ (his words, not yours), but you underestimated how annoying it would be when you’re in the middle of a disagreement. 

after a few more moments you slam the book shut with a huff, fully aware you’re not going to get any meaningful studying done with him staring you down in your peripherals. when you stand from the seat he echoes your movements. the students part and scamper away from his path as he follows behind like your shadow.

there’s honestly a good chance you’d be less angry with him if he just gave you some space like you desired, but he’d rather have his horns ripped from his skull than leave you alone for more than thirty seconds.

“have you found it within your heart to forgive me yet, beloved?” he asks calmly, as if it’s somehow your fault that you’re even upset to begin with. 

your head whips around in a flash, rage contorting the usually delicate features of your face. he’s either a bonafide manipulator or completely dense, and both of the options seem to piss you off equally at the moment.

“give me a fucking break, malleus!” you yell, not missing the way his eye twitches from your lack of using his nickname. “i put up with a lot of your shit, but i’m seriously sick of you treating my friends like they’re criminals-”

“spade does have a charge on his record, my love,” he counters smoothly, which does nothing to satiate your anger. you pull back when he tries to reach for you, but the swirling clouds beginning to form in the sky make you think twice.

“i care a great deal about your safety and wellbeing. it’d do no good for my future betrothed to be involved in something that endangers your reputation or, sevens forbid, your health.”

out of sheer pettiness, you mutter under your breath, “keep acting like this and there won’t be a betrothed for you to marry.”

his self control snaps like a twig as lightning strikes the bench nearby, making you scream and instinctively leap towards him for protection. his arms quickly wrap around you like a python, trapping you against his body.

“there will be a wedding, and you will soon see the error in your ways. i simply pray you one day come to understand that everything i do is out of my endless love for you,” he coos, but it feels more like a death sentence. whatever his ‘love’ entails, you’re not sure if it’s something you want to stick around for.

not that he’d ever give you a choice.

[district4loading]

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

-

Maybe hypnosis is real

-

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

-

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl" 

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt. 

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it" 

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply.  Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

[pilferingapples]

JBM steal! for @lesmisshippingshowdown !

On the FAR other end of my artistic experiments: so back in canon era (or so I've read) there were people along the fashionable strolling boulevards who did quick drawings and sketch-paintings for souvenirs. These were in no way artistic portraits--like good carnival caricaturists today, the artists made up their speed by relying on a small set of colors and some recognizable shortcuts /stock types of Person to Draw. It's always seemed like the sort of thing that JBM would pick up on a whim. This was something I tried to draw super quick, with a limited set of overbright "paints".

...also, there's this song. Which I've always loved for its sweet wistfulness-- the way it's about a time and a love that is gone and was probably even grieved, but long enough ago that now what remains is just the fondness. So , here, a filk for Musichetta, and JBM, some time Long Later when the paints and the memories are faded but still there. Also there is a bonus picture under the cut, after the filk:P (241 words,if I can trust my program!)

Deep in the pocket of an old worn out day skirt I chanced to discover an old memory Three for a quarter-franc boulevard portrait Taken of Joly and Legle and me

He's in the corner, his shirt collar open Like some Spanish lover, some bold Hernani Each of them smiling and holding my hand close It's Lesgle and Joly, they're smiling for me

It must have been sometime in June 1830 That hopeful bright summer, we knew we'd won free I took their arms as we walked through the arcade Three young believers on a half a franc spree

Three for a quarter franc Boulevard portrait Painting our loves for the whole world to see Hey kiss me quick, 'cause the sunlight is fading It's fading on Joly and Laigle and me

Waiting on that late night omnibus back home They held me warm, in the cool evening breeze All of us swore to be in love forever Forever for Joly and Lesgles and me

Three for a quarter franc Boulevard portrait Painting our loves for the whole world to see Hey kiss me quick, 'cause the sunlight is fading It's fading on Joly and Lesgueles and me

Three for a quarter franc boulevard portraits Three young believers on a  half a franc spree I saved your picture in my day skirt pocket L'aigle and Joly, do you have one of me

Joly and Lesgle, do you have one of me

(Note: no IDEA if those prices would make any sense, but the Vibes Were Right. Also: Astute readers may notice one portrait is missing. this is NOT because I ran out of time and wrists , it's because that one was Bossuet's and well. His luck is Like That-- he misplaced it long before the end, though if he'd turned out his pockets one more time he might have realized he actually had it there all along...)

[gladiatorcunt]

hey ryn!!!!! sooo i saw this (nsfw link incoming)

https://x.com/sexarchiv/status/1736871466501648453

and was desperate to hear your thoughts on this w patrick +++ art watching

love you love you🎖️💕

hi!!!!! i’m sorry this is so late but i went crazy over the link and art does a lil more than watch but i hope you like it 💘💘💘

cw: 18+ mdni, art and patrick make out during this (nsfw twt link), implied sub reader / switch patrick / dom art, one use of daddy, gross patrick who whines a lot, art being lowkey possessed by tashi (he’s on something in this one), nipple play (?), teasing, unedited

It’s a quiet night in with your boyfriends, there’s left over pizza in the fridge and the roku city background on the tv casts a soft purple glow over your shared bedroom. You’re too tired to get changed, the three of you lounge on the king sized bed in various states of undress. It’s supposed to snow during the night, so there’s just a sort of cozy vibe in the air. You really weren’t intending on being intimate with your boyfriends for the rest of the day, but absentminded strokes up Patrick’s sweaty torso quickly turn into palming his thick bulge in his boxers. Patrick softly groans, squirming and spreading his legs to give you better access.

Art slips his hand into his matching set of briefs and pumps his dick to hardness, synching his strokes up with yours. He shuffles up the bed to lie down right next to Patrick, using one arm to move Patrick to lay back against him. Art leans his head on Patrick’s, ready to tease and whisper whenever he sees him getting sensitive. Patrick automatically puckers his lips for a kis but Art cruelly denies him, not wanting to distract the other man from your touches. Somehow your hand manages to look small in comparison to Patrick’s girth, and Art squeezes his balls as he imagines it around his own length.

“He’s gonna cum too fast.” Art says, knowing that you don’t take control with Patrick like he does, but goading you on regardless.

“You just feel so good, ‘s not my fault.” Patrick moans as your thumb circles around his pinkish red cock head.

You dip your nail into the slit and lean down to let some of your saliva slowly drip down onto his aching cock. With the added lube, you pump your hand a few more times and put your wrist into it. You’re so lost in the deep groans coming from above you and seeing his pretty cock somehow pull off looking like it’s on the verge of tears that you almost forget that there’s an end goal to all of this. You’re just so in love and in actual awe of how gorgeous a dick can be, Patrick’s nastier overall but it only makes his cock look even better.

The tip is glistening and you peck it a couple times, grinning at the tiny beads of precum that trickle out of his slit. Art reflexively licks his lips and thumbs his own head, just enoying his partners playing with each other and being more than very appreciative of his favorite show. The atmosphere is so sleepy and relaxed that not many words are being spoken. It’s most a flurry of soft grunts, whines, and sweet nothings that are lost to the white noise from different sources around you.

“Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” Art coos, more at Patrick than you as he tilts his chin up with one finger and softly presses their lips together.

The kiss soon turns into a frenzied slide of their lips, swapping so much spit that their tongues actually hardly touch. You squeeze your thighs together before going back to what you were doing, trying your hardest to not cum on the spot because of them. You push your shirt down just under your tits, hissing as a rush of cold air hits your already hard and sensitive nipples. Patrick jumps like he’s been shot when you lower your full tits to brush against his weeping cock, circling your thumb around the head and tracing a vein or two.

He whines into his kiss with Art as you lower yourself even further to press your nipple into his tip. He stops being an active participation in the makeout session, too preoccupied with the teasing touch of your nipple gliding up and down his cock head. Something about your nipples being so small but so soft to the touch, getting him so worked up over the tiniest bit of flesh. It’s a feeling that’s akin to circling a vibrator around his length, but your nipples ghosting along his dick make him want to sob. He relases a symphony of broken sounds into Art’s lips, softly spoken and inhuman.

You grip the base of Patrick’s cock, holding it steady as you gingerly move your nipple up and down the tip. You take your time to really press it in deep, squishing it a bit as you force it all around him. This has you ready to cum too, the chilly air combined with how wet Patrick’s cock is sets your brain on fire, but you’re not about to have to clean your panties and be embarrassed. Art’s right, it doesn’t take much of you dragging your nipples over his slit and around his puffy tip before he’s oozing all over your hand and tits. You work him through his quick orgasm, slowing down the speed of your nipple and moving to drag it along his entire length now.

You even circle it around his balls, heartbreakingly slow but you’re not trying to make him blow his load again. Art soothes Patrick through his twitching, if the wet smacks of lazy french kisses are anything to go by.

You look up to see Art give you a two finger ‘come here’ gesture, and when you’ve crawled back up the bed to join them, you notice how damp his underwear is. Art pulls you into their kiss and drags your sticky hand to cover his soaked bulge, keeping it there as you spend no time rushing this languid embrace with your boyfriends. Before you know it they’ll be back on the court and all they’ll have time for is near bloody quickies in your shower until they head back out to practise.

Art hums, lifting his hand to pet you and Patrick, sucking both of your tongues and giggling at the whimpers you let out.

“It’s my turn now, hm?”

[sungbites]

MISCONCEPTIONS ━ lee jeno

pairing : jeno x fem!reader genre : angst, fluff, est. relationship (sort of relationship), suggestive elements warnings : drinking/being drunk, profanity, inaccurate representation of art students, kissing, they're both toxic #sozz synopsis : your relationship with jeno was always complicated, never knowing where you stand with him. but what happens when things are left unsaid between the both of you and words are left to become mere misconceptions. wc : 10k a/n : god i've been working on this for over a month and finally its completed 🥹, i wanna thank @yutarot my beloved for helping me finish this and giving me the motivation, ily my nayu 🫶

Words were futile devices, there was no point in conveying them as you wanted because actions spoke louder. In words there were misconceptions tied in them, causing a whirlwind of miscommunication between two people. 

Lee Jeno did not pride himself on not knowing you, but rather the opposite. He hates himself for not knowing you enough. Past just every curve of your body and into every curve of your soul, when you pushed or pulled towards him, when you wanted him and when you didn’t. Like now. 

He was so jealous. He had been watching you, like a creep, all night. You knew, his friends knew, your friends knew, hell even the guy shamelessly flirting with you probably knew. It didn't matter because Jeno was annoyed, who did he think he was coming to his friends party and flirting with you. It was eating him alive, and you knew that as well. But you didn’t pay any mind to it because you knew at the end of the day he wasn’t gonna do anything, or was he?

You shifted your gaze back to the man who stood in front of you, Mark Lee was his name. From what he had blabbed to you within five minutes you knew that was from Canada, his best friend's name was Donghyuck, and he had a really cool sledding story. “So like I said he literally rammed into our sled!” Mark continued, animating the sled crash with his empty cup and hands. You gasped, trying to seem like you were paying attention the whole time. “Yeah so, we were like, what’s your deal man? But he told us he lost control of the sled so I guess it’s all chill” He finished, making you laugh softly. “I mean I’m glad! That sounds like a good time though.” you said, smiling up at him.

You knew he was just telling you stories about himself to keep talking to you, but you didn't mind at all. He was a cutie and besides you needed to distract yourself from Jeno who was all over you one second, and the next he couldn’t care less about you. You knew you deserved better and maybe that was Mark. Or maybe it wasn’t, sometimes you couldn’t tell what was good for you and what wasn’t, Jeno being a clear example. Mark smiled down at you, taking a sip of his drink, “You know, you could come with. We’re going next month” you smiled, raising your eyebrow slightly at his offer. 

“That’s a kind gesture but I don’t know how to sled” you said, taking a sip of your own drink but scrunching your nose as the taste. It was some sort of weird combination that Chenle made, always something with him. Mark nodded, thinking to himself for a couple seconds. “Doesn’t matter” He said, making you furrow your brows, “and why’s that Mark? Do tell” you replied, smiling softly as he smiled back at you. The vibe between you two was flirty, you knew he was flirting the second he approached you because in all honesty, he wasn’t very good at hiding it. “I can just teach you, babe,” he finally said, a smile on his face. Your cheeks flushed softly, feeling your smile grow, “You’re too kind Mark seriously you don’t need to” you finally said making Mark smile more. 

Just before he spoke, a voice spoke up from behind you. “No man, really you are” in an instant you knew the voice, and his tone, always so icy. Jeno didn’t often talk to people like that, he was pretty reserved, but when he was angry he got livid, which he was right now. You turned to see him, standing right next to you and across from Mark, smiling smugly at him. “You know thanks for keeping my girl company while I was getting us drinks, appreciate it.” He smiled at Mark a little bit too fakely, the whole interaction causing the boy across from you to stutter out apologies. “God sorry man- I uh- didn’t know she was your girlfriend.” He smiled awkwardly at Jeno then you, making you frown softly. He had no reason to apologize, Jeno only wanted to acknowledge you when it was convenient for him. “Sorry again, I’ll leave you two alone” He said rather quickly, stumbling on his words as he scurried off to his friends. 

“What the fuck Jeno?” You turned to him, now even more angry at him than you were before. Before this party, Jeno had told you to keep your distance, something about the fact his friends could never know what was going on between you two, like he was ashamed of you. The two of you have had this argument multiple times since starting your ‘arrangement’ Jeno claims it would be a big deal but you knew that it didn’t matter to any of his stupid friends. Yet despite all of the shit he gave you, here he was, acting like he was your boyfriend because he got a little bit insecure. “C’mon babe,” He said in the same tone Mark did, mocking him. “Don't cause a scene” He muttered, smiling down at you, making you roll your eyes in response. 

“Fuck off.” you mumbled, not sure if it was the alcohol speaking but nonetheless you grabbed the drink from his hand and walked past him, leading the way to the backyard where you could be alone and in peace. Jeno watched you leave then scoffed and shook his head, following you outside. “Yn! C’mon don’t be like this!” He yelled out as you walked further and further away from the house, and him. He followed you until you were at the back fence of the backyard and had no choice but to face him. You clenched your fists and turned around to face him.

As always, he had that puppy dog look on his face. The one where he seemed apologetic and that he loved you but you could see right through his facade. After all, the two of you had this fling going on for three months now, so you weren't going to fall for his manipulative tricks this time, “Why’d you do that Jeno” you knew the answer, you just wanted to hear him come up with a bullshit excuse, he was always good at that. 

He sighed out, running his hand through his hair, to anyone else it would look like you fucked up and he was just a bystander. “Just looking out for you baby, like I always do.” He smiled softly, walking closer to you to try and break the gap, instead you backed away. He noticed this and stopped, furrowing his brows, “Yn I care about you, don’t do that” he mumbled, his lips in a soft frown now. You looked in his eyes, trying to break through and see if he was lying or not but he had always shut himself out to you, always. 

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, then sighed, you could feel yourself giving into him. He always had a way of speaking to you, it was weird. He never said what he meant, especially with his feelings, and you could never tell how much of that was true. He lied to you, about how he felt, about missing ‘dates’, and everything in between. It was hard staying with Jeno because you knew it wasn't good for you, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to just leave. 

“Yeah I know, I just don't know, you have a weird way of showing it Jen” you breathed out, looking down at the grass, unable to hold eye contact with him. Jeno sighed softly and walked closer to you slowly, as if testing the waters. Once he noticed you weren’t backing away he walked close enough so you and him were just an arms length apart. He reached out, holding your chin softly, forcing you to look up at him. He locked eyes with you and only smiled softly. 

“I know baby, but it's always you for me.” His words made you smile, but they meant nothing. You knew that, so why did your heart skip a beat when he said that? Why did you suddenly feel a chance for hope, for you and Jeno? Jeno could read you like a book because he must've sensed that your mind was racing. He shook his head, “Quit doing that, drifting off in thought. Just focus on me” he said, halting your thoughts for just a moment. 

Now, he was close enough to where you could feel his cool breath against your nose, lips just centimeters apart. You could see him locking down at your lips and before he could lean in to kiss you, you put your hand on his chest. “What is it?” he said, this time sounding a bit more passive aggressive rather than the gentle tone he was using earlier. “You’re not my boyfriend Jen” you mumbled, making him look at your lips. “And you're not my girlfriend,” he said without missing a beat, “has that ever stopped us?” he looked into your eyes, eyebrow slightly raised. 

He was right, that didn't ever stop the both of you. Neither of you stopped to think about the fact that you weren't in a relationship. Maybe you even preferred it that way, you knew Jeno sure as hell did. He loved having you without all the unnecessary hassles that he would have to deal with because he was your boyfriend. 

You shook your head, making him smile softly. He leaned in again to kiss you, this time you let him. You let the familiar taste of his lips take over your own. It was intoxicating how much he drew you in, pulling you away from your own consciousness. He tilted his head slightly, kissing you at a different angle now. He pulled back, Jeno was always the first to pull back. 

He smiled down at you and backed away, “come over tonight?” He mumbled, you nodded in response. You felt him lean down to kiss your cheek before he headed back inside the house. You watched as he started talking to his friends like normal, not even caring that you were still outside, cold. Weirdly enough none of Jenos kisses made you feel warm, but maybe that’s just how things were meant to be. 

You sat on the couch, refreshing your text conversation with Jeno, your purse in your other hand. The two of you were supposed to go out tonight, as promised. You were stupid to believe Jenos empty promises after all this time. “Let me guess, he stood you up again?” Yerim said, shutting her bedroom door behind her. You looked to her and sighed, shutting your phone and putting it face down. 

You and Yerim had been roommates for around a year, the two of you started getting closer around the time you and Jeno started your ‘arrangement’ and since then you’ve confided in her since you can’t tell anyone else, sworn to secrecy thanks to Jeno. “I don’t even know why I believed him,” you watched as Yerim sat next to you on the couch, sinking into it. “You say this everytime,” she sighed.

She glanced at you, almost feeling sorry for you. Of course she felt sorry for you, it was hard being with someone who gave you everything yet nothing at the very same time. Yet she could never figure out what made you stay, was it the sex? Or was it the idea of someone loving you? Was it even love? You looked her way, already sensing what she was going to say. Instead of saying her thoughts, Yerim held your head and rested it on her shoulder, patting your head gently. Her hand pushed some of your hair out of your way, still patting you gently. The two of you sat like that for a good half hour before the two of you started getting up to go to your own respective rooms.

As you got up Yerim looked at you, “Yn?” she mumbled, making you turn around to face her. She hesitated before speaking, “you deserve better than that” Yerim said, smiling softly at you. You smiled back and nodded, letting her pat your shoulder as she departed to her room. You stood in the living room for a couple minutes, staring at the wall. 

You deserve way better.

But you weren’t going to let yourself have that. Why did you love Jeno so deeply and desperately when he couldn't care less? All you were to him was his toy to play with when he wanted and dispose of you when he was bored. Yet you always ran back, why? Was it his soft kisses? Or was it the way he held you in his arms? Maybe it was the way he looks at you when you’re both alone? Or is that just you looking at him? Has he ever spared you a glance? Will he ever spare you a glance? 

Your phone buzzed on the couch. You looked down, groaning as you realize you’re still wearing the same clothes you were supposed to go out in. You picked up your phone, seeing a text you had seen several times before. 

jen [11:57 p.m.] : outside your place babe :) 

The next thing you knew you were outside, walking with Jeno side by side in a park near your apartment. According to him, he was busy with something and as per usual you didn’t question it. Maybe you were scared that if you asked him too many questions he would leave you because you were too much work. Maybe he was just with you for the convenience of it all, intertwining friend groups, same school, not too far apart. 

Your hands were intertwined as you walked, Jeno broke the silence first. “Saw your sculpture in the workshop, it looks good,” he said, looking ahead at the path in front of you two. So that meant he was actually busy, you thought. “Thanks, I didn’t think you noticed,” you replied, looking down at the ground the two of you walked on together, your feet in perfect sync. Jeno shifted his gaze to look at you, smiling. “I notice everything,” making you look up at him, smiling as well. 

This was why things were so confusing. Jeno would act like he cared about you and cherished you but he never wanted to date you, and he certainly never did this infront of others. It seemed as though your relationship was covered in a fog of mystery even to you, ironic isn't it? Not even knowing what kind of relationship you were in. 

“It’s getting late Jen,” you finally said, making his smile raise a little. “We could head back to mine? Get some sleep?” He looked at you, still smiling. Of course, what else would you do other than agree? 

You stared at the sculpture sitting right in front of you, the look it was giving you seemed judgemental. As if it was judging you for being at the workshop at lunchtime while everyone else was taking their well deserved breaks. You sighed, carving away at the sculpture. You didn’t even know what you were trying to make but you knew you wanted it to be good for your final presentation.

It determined whether or not you can go to an art school and you weren’t going to let any distractions get in your way, not even Jeno. You didn’t believe in yourself though, in terms of the sculpture and the distractions.

You heard the door to the workshop open and close, soft footsteps grew closer to where you were sitting, then suddenly they stopped. This caused you to look up from your sculpture to see Mark, standing 6 feet away from you. “Oh I.. did you tell me you went here?” He stuttered, trying to get his words out. You smiled softly and nodded, making him frown softly. “Sorry, I got pretty wasted that night,” he said, walking over to sit on the table right in front of you. 

“It’s alright,” you replied, still smiling softly. Mark watched you as you went back to sculpting diligently, he smiled at you. “So does your boyfriend go here?” he broke the silence, not stuttering anymore. You looked at him and furrowed your brows, then it hit you. “Me and Jeno aren’t dating he just.. does that for some reason,” you shook your head slightly and now Mark's interest was piqued.

“So you’re single?” he asked once more, making you smile now. “Yes Mark, I am,” you said again, looking at him. He jumped off the table and leaned over your table. “So are you single enough to go for coffee? Maybe this weekend?” he seemed more confident than before, it was working because you were swayed to say yes. 

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you said, making him smile now. “How will you get back to me if you don’t have my number?” he pulled out his phone all too confidently and slid it your way. “You’re smooth you know that?” you said, picking it up and putting in your number, giving it back to him. 

He smiled down at his phone then looked at you. “We could get lunch now if you want,” just before you could respond, a bag was placed on the table catching both yours and Mark's attention. “Hi, am I interrupting something?” Jeno said, looking between you and Mark. Mark leaned back and looked at Jeno. “Nah, just dropped by to say hi to Yn,” he said, picking up his bag then looking at you. “I’ll text you?” making you nod, waving goodbye as he left. 

You saw Mark shut the door then looked to Jeno who sat down next to you at the table, silently opening the bag of food. “What are you doing here Jen,” you sighed, putting down the sculpting tool. “I think a question that’s more important is why are you skipping lunch,” he said, taking out a takeout box of food then placing it in front of you. You looked at the box then at him, he had already begun eating from his box of food. You sighed, reaching in the bag to grab utensils and began eating. The two of you ate in silence, just the sound of the wind blowing from outside could be heard. 

You weren’t sure why Jeno did things like this, acting sweet. It left the impression that he really did care for you and he wasn’t just lying, that made things so much more confusing than they already were. For some reason, even after seeing Jeno for so long, you couldn’t tell the difference between if he actually meant it or if he was just toying with you and as per usual, this time wasn't any different.

You put down your fork, pushing the food away slightly and going back to your carving, not sparing Jeno a glance. But that didn’t go unnoticed, Jeno set his fork down as well and looked at you with furrowed brows. “Just eat baby,” he said, still watching you. You wanted to roll your eyes but chose not to. “I can always eat when I get home, so if this is all you came to do then you can leave,” you replied, focusing on the shape you were making with the clay, but your focus was wavering. 

Jeno scoffed, clearly annoyed now. “Are you mad at me? What’d I even do,” you ignored him, continuing to mold the clay into the shape you wanted, which you weren’t even sure what you wanted. Jeno watched as you continued to sculpt, not saying anything to him. He nodded and sucked his teeth, continuing to eat his food. You glanced at him a couple times but he was too busy on his phone to even notice you looking his way. 

You weren’t even sure why you were upset. No you knew, you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Jeno wasn’t normally a protective person but for some reason when it came to Mark he couldn’t help himself. Maybe he knew that Mark was a good guy, nothing like him. That Mark would treat you better than he ever could or maybe they’re just one in the same you’re doomed no matter what. 

“Can you pass me the tool to the right of you?” you said, breaking the silence. Jeno glanced at you and handed you the tool you wanted. “So now you're speaking to me?” he crossed his arms, looking at you fully. “Stop being like that Jen,” you muttered, trying to fix the lines with your thumb, smoothing out the base of the heart. “You’re the one who kept ignoring me,” he scoffed, watching as you carved away. He always liked you when you concentrated on something, told you you looked pretty.

He reached over, his hand pushing away some stray hairs from your face, hairs that were covering your eyesight. You looked at him and for some reason your heart softened, why’d it always do that with him. “I was just looking out for you pretty,” he said, still looking in your eyes, You nodded, sighing softly. “Yeah, I guess I’m just stressed,” you cleared your throat, looking back at the base of the heart. The idea you had wasn’t executing perfectly but that wasn’t why you were annoyed with Jeno. 

You were annoyed with the hold he had over you. That even if he acted sweet now and pushed you away later you would still run back to him like a lovesick puppy. Weirdly enough there wasn’t any love there and if there was you would never admit it for your own sake. 

“Tell me what you’re making,” Jeno looked at you, propping his head up with his hand that was on the table. “It’s supposed to be a heart, and I don’t know where to go from there,” you turned fully to him, sighing. He smiled softly, admiring you. “You’ll figure it out baby, everything you make is pretty,” he said, smiling as he spoke. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, turning your body back around to clean up your area. “Yeah okay,” you scoffed softly, putting away the tools and packaging the leftover clay. “It’s true,” Jeno furrowed his brows, helping you clean up by picking up your empty food containers and throwing them out. “Sweet talking me won’t do much Jen,” You laughed softly, walking over to the fridge to put the clay in. 

Jeno leaned against the table, watching as you walked back over to it. Just before you could walk past him, he held your wrist, pulling you into him. “Jeno c’mon,” you scoffed, trying to tug your wrist out of his hold but he only smiled. “Sweet talking won’t work so what if I kiss you, will you still be mad pretty?” he mumbled, pushing some stray hairs away. “No, I won’t,” you breathed out, making him smile again. 

He leaned in, kissing your lips ever so gently. His hand moved to your waist, holding you tight and close to him. This time, your kiss was soft and gentle, unlike your usual kisses which we almost rushed. You felt him smile against your lips, making you smile as well. You could feel why he was doing this, to keep you. You knew deep down the way his hands moved up and down your waist that he was almost holding you so close so he didn’t lose you, specifically to Mark. This made you feel validated in some weird way, that he could regret losing you. Maybe you’re more important to him than you thought. 

You pulled back, opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. “Still mad?” he muttered, you shaking your head and stepping back. His eyes followed your body as you went to grab your bag, walking back over to him to grab his hand. “So? What now?” you said, the two of you walking hand in hand out of the workshop. 

Jeno thought for a couple minutes, gripping your hand softly as you two walked out of the building. The sun was setting now which meant that the only people left on campus would be the ones who were in different buildings. Which was good for Jeno because you were away from anyone who could possibly know either of you. “We could grab dinner, haven’t been out with you in so long baby,” he looked at you and you raised your eyebrow. “Well whose fault is that?” you questioned, tilting your head, making him laugh and roll his eyes playfully. “Lead the way,” you said, making him smile and grip your hand tighter as you two made your way to his car. 

There was a side to Jeno not many people knew, this was one of them. The soft light from his bedside lamp lit up the room with a soft yellow glow. You laid in his bed, in his shirt, watching him as he sat on the floor, cutting glass. From what he had told you, which as per usual was very little, he was making a glass stained piece for a project and right now he had to cut the glass into the shapes he wanted so he could weld them later.

This side of Jeno was soft and domestic, but this side never left the very four walls of his apartment. It almost felt as if it was reserved only to you, that made you feel good. Good that something about him was a secret only for you to know, that only you got the privilege to see him like this. You moved over to where he was leaning against the bed and began playing with his hair, scratching his scalp softly with his nails. 

“What are you doing pretty? Told you not to get out of bed in case there’s shards,” he mumbled, a soft smile could be heard in his voice. “Not going anywhere, just wanted to check on you,” you said, playing with his hair. He smiled, looking up at you. “Getting bored?” he said, looking in your eyes and you shook your head, Jeno set down the glass and turned around so he could face you properly. 

He looked in your eyes, taking in your facial features. For some reason it felt like he was seeing you for the first time, you smiled softly under his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that,” you mumbled, making Jeno smile some more. “Just admiring my pretty baby,” he muttered, making you smile softly. You brushed some strays out of his way and kissed his cheek, then leaned back to lay in bed. He gave you one last look before turning around and going back to cutting the glass, you turned over in his bed. There’s this saying, that once you’re in someone's bedroom there's a chance you can take a glance in their mind. For some reason that wasn’t the case with Jeno’s room.

You had been here a million times but yet you were as close to him as you would be to an acquaintance. The two of you knew each other but sometimes it felt like you were just two distant strangers. Maybe that was why you felt so okay to let him in in some way, he didn’t know you. All you knew about each other at first was the two of you didn’t need something committed and that was it. 

At first your relationship was just sex, the two of you just wanted a casual hookup. But within the past month it’s turned into something more, maybe that was what you just made up yourself to think. Instead of Jeno calling you up for a quick fuck, the two of you would sit in his apartment with takeout watching some movie, or just spent your weekends with one another. Maybe the reason why you had grown so comfortable with Jeno is because he in fact didn’t know you, that is until you let him in. 

You break out of your thoughts and focus again on Jenos room, a place you had seen countless times. Everything in his room was mostly dull, the color scheme of it all. It looks like a normal guys room but at the same time it doesn't. Your eyes fall on his desk, where his monitor is set up as well as a small section of polaroids. They were of him and his friends, Jaemin and Renjun.

You had met Jaemin and Renjun on separate occasions, not attached with Jeno. Jaemin was this guy that your friend, Chenle, knew and Renjun worked at the school's information desk with Yerim. They were both sweet and reserved, their personalities aligning with Jenos. Jeno had met some of your friends as well, of course not attached to you. Even if your and Jenos relationship had changed, one thing remained clear. No one knew about the two of you. 

It was something Jeno established the first night, it bothered you. Even when you weren’t close with him, something about it rubbed you the wrong way. What was so wrong with his friends knowing he was with you? Was he ashamed of you? Were you too embarrassing to even be seen with him? DId he not value you?  

“What’s going on in your head baby?” you jumped, feeling Jenos arm snake around your waist. You turned to face him, not even realizing the whole time you were thinking he had already cleaned up. “Nothing,” you mumbled, making him smile. “Liar.” He breathed out, still smiling. 

He leaned in to pepper soft kisses on your collarbone, you giggled softly, pushing him away by putting your hand on his chest. “Oh?” he teased, looking at you. “You wanna push me away hm?” he smiled, hands reaching up your waist. “C’mon Jen don’t- stop!” you burst out in giggles as he started tickling you. 

After being with you for so long, Jeno began to uncover parts of you he wouldn’t have before. Like the spots where you were the most ticklish. You started laughing louder, tears welling in your eyes. Jeno began to giggle with you, your leg was over his hip so you did the most rational thing and grabbed his wrists, flipping the two of you over so you were straddling him now. 

Your faces were flushed and the two of you were out of breath. Jeno smiled up at you, “c’mon let my wrists go babe,“ Jeno mumbled, making your cheeks turn pink as you let his wrists go, unsure where to put your hands now. Jeno shifted to sit up against the headboard, his hands resting at the curve of your hips. He kept eye contact with you, still straddling him. “Quit looking at me,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. Your hands felt cold against your face which was now red and burning up from embarrassment. 

You didn’t even know what you could’ve been nervous about, it was Jeno, the same guy who's seen you naked on multiple occasions. Jeno only smiled, reaching to take your hands off your face. “You’re so shy now, what about earlier?” he smiled, making your cheeks turn pink as you groaned and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Jeno laughed softly, holding your waist.

The two of you sat like that for a couple minutes, Jenos thumb drawing small circles on your back. You picked your head up to look at him once more, he smiled, reaching to push some hair away from your face. There was this look Jeno always had before kissing you. It was hard to pinpoint if it was love or lust but either way he gave you a look, then looked at your lips, then back at your eyes. Jeno leaned in, locking your lips with his. As the two of you kissed, you felt his hands moving up and down your waist, one of them reaching up to get lost in your hair. 

He tilted his head slightly, your hands going up from his chest to his neck, playing with the hair that prickled your fingers. He laid you down on the bed, moving down to your neck. He continued to pepper soft kisses on your neck, making you smile. He moved back up to your face and kissed your face all over, making you giggle as the two of you entangled your limbs in sheets that smelled of him. 

You sketched away in your notebook, trying to create a good basis for your final project. If you weren’t stressed out about it before you sure as hell were now because your instructor told everyone the deadline now had no exceptions, it was to be presented in the school art show in two weeks. That meant you had two weeks to create a masterpiece from just a block of clay in order to get into a graduate art program. 

“Give me the lighter, c’mon!” Hyunjin shrieked, jumping up to grab the lighter from Chenle who kept reaching his hand up so she couldn’t grab it. You looked up from your sketchbook to see them jumping around on the rooftop, next to you Heejin sat, scrolling through some dating app. “Ugh fine!” Chenle groaned, passing the lighter to Hyunjin who only smiled and lit her cigarette. 

This was the norm for you, sitting on the rooftop of the art building with your friends. You had met Heejin and Hyunjin during your freshman year, Hyunjin was friends with Chenle and he became the group's single male friend. You had begun getting closer to Yerim because she was your roommate freshman year and that made up your small circle of friends. You had talked to other mutual friends here and there but never like you did with these four. 

Heejin put her phone down, sighing loudly so someone could hear her. You glanced at her and smiled softly. “Spit it out,” you said, still not looking up from your sketchbook. “Someone set me up with a guy!” she groaned, making Chenle burst out laughing. “Who would even date you?” he laughed even more, making Hyunjin kick his leg. “I thought you were talking to that one dude?” you furrowed your brows, now looking up to look at her.

“Him?” she questioned, a certain disgust could be heard in her voice. You nodded and she shook her head profusely. “He was so annoying god, no I need a pretty boy,” she said, as if trying to convince you guys to find someone for her. “What about that one guy, Jaemin? He hangs around Yerims friend,” Hyunjin said, blowing the smoke into the air and taking another puff of her cigarette.

Chenle furrowed his brows, “I mean.. Ugh can’t believe I’m saying this but I could try and get you an in,” he groaned out, regretting even thinking the words that came out of his mouth. You smiled softly, then glanced back at Heejin who beamed. “Really? Oh my god I knew it was worth keeping you around, thank you,” she smiled, blowing a kiss in his direction and he gagged. You shook your head and laughed, looking down at your sketchbook once more. 

“We all need to get coupled up, I mean it’s too much to be single as seniors you know!” Hyunjin groaned and Chenle furrowed his brows once more. He looked at you and a small smile grew on his face. “I think Yn here has got herself a little fling,” he said, making you pick up your head once more. “No I-” “Oh my god and you didn’t tell us? Sly sly girl!” Heejin laughed, slapping your forearm. “I don’t!” you replied, feeling antsy about what Chenle had said. 

Did he know? You knew he hung out around Jeno and some of his friends sometimes so was it possible you slipped up? Maybe he saw the two of you at that party from a month ago, or maybe he was just good with his intuition. It made you nervous, scared actually. You were worried that if Chenle knew and Jeno also happened to know then he’d just leave you, with no hesitation. 

“Oh come on, you’re always sneaking off and texting someone. Maybe you have a pretty boy of your own!” He teased, laughing as he ended his sentence. You gave him a look which then made Hyunjin join in on the teasing. “You know he has a point, who’s the lucky guy Yn!” she teased, now all of them were just making fun of you. You sucked on your teeth as you stood up, picking up your bag and shoving your sketchbook in it. 

“You know I’m not seeing anyone but please go ahead and make fun of me for all I care!” you replied, trying to level yourself by breathing in and out. “Yn it was a joke c’mon,” Chenle said, laughing nervously. “Yeah well I didn’t laugh!” your tone harsher now as you turned around to give them one last look then headed for the door. 

The door slammed behind you as you rushed down the stairs, face flushed. You weren’t sure why you were so mad, they were just joking you knew that and they knew that. So why were you pissed? Was it because you had to keep such a big secret from your friends, the ones you told everything? That you couldn’t even tell them how this part of your love life was eating you alive every second. Was it even a love life if there was only lust?

At first when you and Jeno were just having casual sex it didn’t matter because it never went past that. But then he started getting into your head and now you were here, running away from your best friends. You reached the end of the stairs, exiting the art building to find Jeno, Renjun, and Yerim walking in. 

“Yn! Me and Renjun just got off work, I was gonna come get you,” you glanced at Jeno then looked at Yerim. “Yeah uh.. Can we go? Sorry I’m just tired,” you breathed out and Yerim furrowed her brows. “Yeah of course,” she said, then glanced at Renjun and Jeno. “Thanks for walking us back Jeno and I’ll see you tomorrow Jun,” she smiled at both of them and you only looked down, feeling Jenos eyes on you. 

“Yeah of course, you guys get home safe!” Renjun said, then waving bye as they both entered the building, leaving you and Yerim on the steps to the entrance. She glanced at you as the two of you began walking. She knew something was wrong and you knew that she knew as well, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Yerim didn’t take pride in it but she knew you like the back of her hand, more than you might know yourself. After living with someone for 4 years you begin to uncover their ins and outs. She knew you didn’t want to talk about it so instead the two of you walked home in a comforting silence, exactly how you liked it. 

Pottery was like relationships. It was difficult to build a good stable base on a piece, an unstable base would throw the entire piece off and eventually lead to the end. A small crack could turn into everything falling apart as the crack got bigger and bigger. As the crack gets bigger, the base begins to break leaving the entire thing a whole mess. That’s how Jeno perceived relationships. 

There were past mistakes at play with these thoughts as well, he felt as though no one really knew him no matter how much they tried to. This thought led to his own demise as he continued to date around and waste his time on girls he knew only wanted him for his looks, not who he was. But who was he? Lee Jeno didn’t know that himself. He knew that the person he was now was not the person he wanted to be. 

This is what he found himself thinking as he watched you from across the crowded house, led lights flashing all kinds of colors in the dark room. He took a sip of his beer to get rid of the familiar lump in his throat, what was he doing? With you, here at this party, with his life? Jaemin glanced at him then where you were standing talking to Chenle. “You got a crush, or you jealous?” Jaemins voice broke him out of his own thoughts as he glanced over at him, clearing his throat. “No no I think I just zoned out in that direction.” Jeno mumbled, swishing his beer around. 

“I mean, Chenle said something about Yn being with someone, think that one is off limits for you man” jaemin snickered, taking a sip of his own drink. Jeno looked up to look at him then glanced in your direction, “yeah, you’re right” Jeno mumbled back, looking down at the floor now. You were off limits, in every way possible. There were lines that Jeno wouldn’t allow himself to cross with you, certain feelings he couldn’t let himself feel. All because he was scared of that all too familiar crack. 

“Donghyuck’s setting up a game of pool with him and his friend, you down to join?” Jaemin spoke once more, leaning off against the wall and throwing his empty cup in the trash. Jeno glanced at him then you, pushing himself off the wall. “Lead the way” he mumbled, following Jaemin through the overly crowded house. Both of them made their way up the stairs, Jeno glancing around over the railing. 

He didn’t even like parties. Nothing about him actually liked being around a large group of drunk 20 year olds every night. Yet he still found himself going as an escape, from his own mind. The more he let his thoughts consume him the more he found himself back at that same place. The cracks. He couldn’t find it in himself to ever commit to something, especially not relationships. Because of those previous cracks Jeno doesn’t find himself worthy anymore, which is why he chooses to live the life he does. 

Amidst all these thoughts clouding his brain, he found himself standing across Donghyuck and his friend, mark. “Oh hey man, didn’t know you were joining us,” Mark said, an awkward tone could be heard in his voice. Jeno gave him a tight lipped smile, “yeah. Good seeing you too.” the words came out a little harsh, but he didn’t regret that. Truth be told he wasn’t very fond of Mark but not for the reasons one would assume. Mark was pretentious, always thinking he was better than others. Sometimes he was, maybe that’s why Jeno felt so threatened by him. 

Jaemin and Mark began setting up the game, Jeno watching them as he cleaned his cue, Donghyuck glanced at Jeno then mark. “A bit weird since you guys are both going for the same girl” he said, making Mark freeze up. Jaemin glanced at Jeno who only rolled his eyes. “No idea what you’re talking about man” Jeno mumbled, trying to act unphased. Why did he have to let his jealousy get the best of him? “Really? I mean Mark here told me you were dating yn?” Jaemin furrowed his brows and kept his gaze on Jeno. Jeno looked up to see everyone else looking at him. “Dude.. c’mon” Mark muttered next to Donghyuck, who only smiled smugly. 

Jeno shifted his gaze at Mark who looked at something behind Jeno, looking insanely nervous. He looked at Jaemin then sighed. “Me and yn are not dating, I would never see her like that” Jeno finally said, making Donghyuck nod and smile softly as he looked behind Jeno. “Hey yn!” he said, waving his hand. Jeno felt this pit in his stomach, like everything was going to go wrong now. He breathed out, trying to keep his composure. He turned around to see you, standing next to Heejin and Chenle. “Didn’t hear you coming” he mumbled, making the anger bubble in your chest more than it was. “Yeah?” you breathed out, glaring at him. 

Crack. 

He finally looked at you to hold your gaze, there was something behind your eyes that he hadn’t ever seen before. Hurt? Anger? Sadness? No it wasn’t any of those but rather regret.

You regretted meeting the man in front of you. 

You cleared your throat and walked past Jeno, sitting down on the couch not too far from the pool table. Chenle followed, sitting down next to you. You had your arms crossed, looking down at your feet. He glanced at you then Jeno. “You know you can tell me anything right?” Chenle said, making you look up to look at him. You knew you could, that wasn’t far from the truth but you didn’t want to. Suddenly the severity of yours and Jenos relationship was more than clear, as it was clouded in rose colored lenses before. 

You yearned for the chase of Jeno and the idea of being his to keep but he didn’t want you in the same way, no, he wouldn’t want you in the same way as far as you knew it. Not when he would say explicitly to people you knew that he wouldn’t ever want you in that way. How could you have let your own delusions take you this far? 

“Yeah i know” you finally breathed out, shifting your gaze at Jeno, then back to Chenle. Chenle pursed his lips, then sighed, deciding not to ask you anything further. You were glad because it was embarrassing, telling someone you wasted so much time on someone who didn’t want you in the first place. You did deserve better and it took Jeno talking about you like you were worthless for you to realize that. 

Before you knew it the game of pool had ended and you watched as all four of them talked amongst themselves. The same thoughts kept flooding your head, why? Why would you let yourself get dragged into this mess with him? Why would you let yourself get treated like this? Why would you fall for him? Amongst all these thoughts there was one that was calling out to you, why were you still here? You had no reason to be, Heejin was clinged to Jaemin and Chenle was now talking to Mark and Donghyuck. 

You got up from the couch, walking past the group they had formed to leave. Although you wanted to think no one noticed, one person did. Out of the corner of his eye Jeno saw you walk away and rush downstairs, he glanced back at Jaemin who was too busy talking to Heejin. “Gonna go use the bathroom” Jeno muttered, walking away from the conversation and rushing downstairs to find you. Fortunately he knew you and he knew you would be going outside, unfortunately he knew that the last person you wanted to see was him. 

He worked his way through the crowd, walking past drunk people and people who were high out of their minds. Finally he found himself at the entrance to the backyard which was open, in the distance he could see you standing in the field of grass. He walked out and shut the door behind him, making his way over to you. For some reason you always knew when he was around because you immediately turned around. 

You two stared at each other for a couple minutes, both of you unsure what to say until you finally broke the shared silence. “I thought you would never want to be seen with me,” you breathed out, your words cutting through Jeno like a knife. He pursed his lips and sighed, “Yn I never said that” he mumbled and you furrowed your brows, almost in amusement. “You basically could’ve,” you replied back, making him sigh out once more, but this time in frustration. 

“I had to say that, it would’ve gotten too weird,” he said, making you roll your eyes in response, “no one would’ve cared if we were together Jeno.” were. You said were. What did this mean for you and him now, he thought. “You don’t get it yn,” you furrowed your brows once more, squinting your eyes to make sure you were seeing him properly. But you weren’t. You didn’t recognize this side of Jeno because all you had seen was the side of him that you thought wanted you, and now you can’t tell the real from the fake. 

“Is it really that impossible to want me? Seriously Jeno?” your words hit him hard but you weren’t upset, rather angry, at yourself. Jeno wanted to reach out for your hand but he stopped himself, clenching his fist instead. “Baby-” “Don’t.” you cut him off, breathing out and closing your eyes, what was the point of this argument? Were you here to knock some sense into him because it wouldn't work and you knew that deep down. Instead you knew that you should just walk away, but your feet were stuck in that same place as you stared back at him. 

For once his eyes weren’t filled with lust but rather longing and need, was this just another one of his tactics to get you to stay?  Was it working, is that why you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave? He continued to stare at you until he broke eye contact looking down at the grass instead. What was he doing, why would he say that, how could he say that, all these questions ran through his head as he stood in front of you. You looked at him once more and sighed, starting to walk away until he grabbed your hand to stop you. 

You looked at him with almost hopeful eyes until he said something you never expected. “I love you.” he breathed out, staring back at you. You looked between his eyes back and forth, for an answer. He was hoping for something back, but you stood there in silence as you looked in his eyes. Finally you did something, retracting your hand away from his hold. 

Crack. 

“Are you serious?” you finally spoke, rather calmly and Jeno could only stare back at you. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed in and out, trying to calm yourself. You looked up at the sky, closing your eyes. You looked back at himself feeling the anger bubble up even more. “Can you say something?” you said and Jeno only pursed his lips, your anger rubbing off on him. “What else do you want me to say? I already said I love you yn” those three words again, hitting you like a blow to the face. 

“Anything but that Jeno please.” You mumbled and Jeno only furrowed his brows in confusion, “I thought this is what you wanted? You wanted to know if I want you and here's your answer” Jeno said back making you feel even angrier. "You don’t love me Jeno so stop saying it” you said now it being Jenos turn to be amused. “Seriously what more do you want from me yn?” he replied rather annoyed and you only glared at him. 

“Nothing! I want nothing from you because you don’t love me. You loved the idea of having me to yourself.” you shouted now, feeling the anger boil over in your body. Jeno scoffed, “Don't do that, you and I both know that this love of yours means nothing in the long run Jeno” you continued on, making Jeno silent. 

Crack. 

“You’ll say this to me now and by next week we’ll be back here, you publicly denying any ties to me and me having to be embarrassed with myself for doing this in the first place!” You shouted some more, feeling tears brimming in your eyes, he watched you with a cold gaze, so unreadable. “Embarrassed? Really Yn?” and you stood there baffled, that that was all he got from what you said. You laughed, in disbelief and hurt. “Jeno you can’t love anyone because you don’t even value yourself. Face it you’re insecure and it rubs off on the person you’re with,” Your voice was calmer now, more confrontational. He sighed out in frustration at your words. “I told you I loved you Yn” he said and you scoffed right in his face, “Those words don’t mean anything without actions Jeno. You and I both know that,” You finally sighed out and the words were hitting him harder now more than ever. 

You were right, it didn’t mean anything without his actions. And what were his actions? Manipulating you, claiming he loved you when he didn’t? Maybe there was an ounce of love for you in him but you were right once more. He couldn’t love anyone because he didn’t value himself. At all really, he didn’t hold himself to any value. He watched as you breathed in and out deeply, wiping away a few stray tears that fell, shaking your head. “Jeno I don’t want to see you again, luckily you don’t either so this’ll be easy,” you finally said, Jeno still stuck frozen. He watched you walk away and let himself stay out there, to reflect on what he could’ve had. 

Breakups weren’t easy, especially when no titles were actually established in a relationship. Jeno laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, his hand over the spot that you used to sleep in when you were here. But that side on his bed was now cold from your loss, you weren’t there, and you weren’t going to be. For the past week Jeno had been wallowing in his own self pity, locking himself in his apartment. If it weren’t for Renjun and Jaemin breaking in with their spare keys he wouldn’t have eaten anything either. 

Jeno flipped over to his side, still clutching his pillow as he laid in bed. He was sure both Renjun and Jaemin knew by now, it was painfully obvious, but he didn’t care anymore. All he could care about was how right you were, how you, who he thought didn't know him, actually knew him inside and out. He sighed out, shutting his eyes to fall back into his deep sleep once more, his dreams and thoughts being clouded with only you. 

When he woke up he found that his bedroom door was open and there was food placed on his bedside counter. He sat up in his bed, staring at the wall across from the bed as he heard a set of footsteps get closer and closer to his room. He glanced at the doorway to see Renjun standing there. The two of them held eye contact with one another until Renjun fully walked into his room, sitting at the edge of the bed across from him. “You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Renjun finally said, making Jeno look up from his blanket. “Wasn’t hungry,” he mumbled in response and Renjun nodded, looking down at the floor. 

“If you’re here to lecture me then just go Renjun, I know I’m a dick,” Jeno breathed out, crossing his arms as Renjun lifted his head, tilting his head. “I’m not.” Renjun said, making Jeno sigh, almost in relief. He didn’t want to talk about it with Renjun or even Jaemin because it was too embarrassing, that he was too in his own head that he didn’t even stop to think how it was affecting you. “But, why’d you hide it?” Renjun continued, making Jeno purse his lips in thought.

Why did he? From the moment Jeno met you he knew you were a good reliable person, you also just clicked with him immediately, so much that it scared him. So that was why he suggested hiding it from your friends in the first place, that if people didn’t know then it would be easier for him to leave you like he did with everyone else. Yet the more time he spent with you the more he kept growing closer to you, unknowingly. One thing led to another and you two had been seeing each other for 4 months, from then it was too late for him to leave so he kept giving you reasons to leave him. 

From telling you not to act close around him at parties to getting jealous over Mark, everything was calculated in Jenos eyes. You just couldn’t see that he was trying to get rid of you. Why did you stay after all he was putting you through. Why did you want him so much that it started to hurt him? Even Jeno didn’t know the answer to that. 

“I just.. thought it was for the best.” 

“But did she think that? Do you think she liked being hidden Jen?” 

Renjuns' words cleared the clouds away in Jenos vision. You didn’t want to be hidden. Of course you didn’t want to be hidden, what made him think you did? “No.. I just said that on my own, she didn’t suggest it,” Jeno finally said, making Renjun sigh out in response. “Look, I’m not entirely sure what happened between the two of you but what I do know is that you both need to communicate, she didn’t deserve to be hidden like some dirty secret and there clearly are some things left unsaid between the both of you.” Renjun said what he had been meaning to tell Jeno, he was right. You didn’t deserve any of this. You deserved love and appreciation, he had been treating you terribly this whole time and you didn’t deserve to endure that. 

“How do I even talk to her, Jun she hates me” Jeno spoke once more, “if she hated you, she wouldn’t have extended an invitation to the art show.” Renjun said without missing a beat, making Jeno furrow his brows. Renjun reached into his pocket, taking out a ticket to the art show and putting it in Jenos lap. Jeno stared back at the ticket, it was mocking him.

There was no way he could muster up the courage to go and face you after embarrassing you like he did. But his heart got the better of him. Jeno stood up from the bed, making Renjun look up at him with a confused stare. He stood like that for a bit and then cleared his throat, “So? Are you going to help me pick something to wear,” Jeno finally said, making Renjun nod and smile. “You know you need to shower,” he said, standing up from the bed making Jeno playfully shove his shoulder, giggling as he did so. 

You stared at the finished piece behind the glass casing of the exhibit. Staring back at you was a heart, with scars and almost battle wounds that were covered by something that resembled a bandaid. Behind it were two small angel-esque wings coming out of it. The piece in itself was up to interpretation as you had told your professor but you knew what the meaning was. It was meant to resemble a heart after a long well lived life, although there were scars and wounds the heart was still put together constantly, signifying that even if things were dull you would get back up. 

That was how you saw yourself after everything with Jeno, you were damaged and bruised sure, but that didn’t mean your life would just stop. The first couple days went in blurs, going home just to sleep and spending the rest of your time in the workshop, but after a long talk with Yerim, you started to feel better. You didn’t have to think about all the what ifs but rather move on from the fact that it had happened and it’s over now. 

The exhibit was now empty and speaking of Jeno, you had passed an invitation to him via Renjun, no one else had seen him since the party. You didn’t expect him to come but you were hoping he would, he always liked seeing your pieces. You sighed, glancing around and seeing no sight of Jeno or anyone else for that matter. You turned around to find yourself face to face with Jeno, but he wasn’t looking at you. You followed where his gaze went and he was looking at the piece, admiring it with glistening eyes. 

He looked like he just showered, his skin always got a little red after a shower. You wondered what he had been up to this past week. He shifted his gaze from the piece, over to you. That was when everything fell silent in your head. “It’s good.. Like really good,” Jeno finally said, smiling softly. “Thanks, I worked really hard on it,” you replied, cursing yourself mentally because what did you mean you worked really hard on it? Of course you did.

He smiled and looked down at his feet, clearly thinking about something. He wanted to say something, you could tell by the way he stood, anxiously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. A part of you wanted to say what he was thinking before he got the chance to but you held yourself back, this was one of those things he had to do on his own. 

You hoped it was what you were thinking about. Truth be told, even if you were happy this was over, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him. In some weird fucked up away, you would always want him even if it led to you being hurt. For some reason you let it slide but you told yourself, if you were to try again with him, it would be different. 

“I'm sorry, for everything” He finally said, lifting his head up. You took a deep breath and nodded, signaling for him to continue. “I’ve been terrible and there's no excuse, when we first started seeing each other I thought it would be one of those flings where we move on from each other after a week, but it’s not. I care about you Yn and it may not seem like it but I do want to be with you. I know you don't feel the same but I love you Yn.” He breathed out, his voice going soft at the last sentence. You furrowed your brows and spoke up before he could. ‘Who said I didn’t love you Jen?” 

He stared back at you and you sighed, “I do love you, I just thought you were saying it just so I wouldn’t get upset,” you breathed out, Jeno shaking his head. “It’s okay Jen, I forgive you. But if we want to give this another shot we have to talk to one another.”

There was a pause between the both of you, Jeno only smiled softly. “So.. what does this mean?” He said, a sense of hope in his voice. You needed to be the bearer of bad news. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair, “I got accepted to the graduate program” You breathed out, making Jeno smile even more. “That’s amazing Yn, I knew you would get in,” he said, making you nod and smile in response. “The reason why I’m bringing it up is because it’s in a different city, about 3 hours away,” you finally said, inserting the metaphorical knife.

Jeno fell silent, he thought about the weight of your words. “I can do long distance Yn.” He spoke up, surprising you and himself that he was thinking with his heart. You fell silent, in shock. He wore the same frown he did earlier and nodded. “Okay so you don’t want to” he sighed out and you widened your eyes. “No I do!” you said, rather loudly and quickly. He stared back at you, a small smile on his face. “But let’s take it slow, you know.. I mean most of our relationship is gonna be through texts and calls,” you said, making him smile even more. “Anything you want.” He muttered, breaking the gap between you two to reach out and hold his hand.

You two began walking, hearts dancing as your footsteps aligned with one another. “You know if we’re going slow, should we start over?” Jeno said, making you nod as you let go of his hand, making him stop walking. You stood in front of him and held out your hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Yn,” you said, a big smile on your face as he looked down at your hand and smiled. Jeno shook your hand. “I’m Jeno, and I love you,” he blurted out, making both of you laugh out loud in the now empty exhibit. Your laughs echoed off the walls and Jeno pulled you into his chest, a tight embrace. “I love you too” you mumbled in his ear, tip toeing so he could hear you. 

Nothing was ever meant to be perfect, relationships nor sculpting but it didn’t hurt anyone to give it a shot. 

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[enchantedflameandflower]

billy teaching his girl how to smoke a cig would be so attractive

I feel like maybe they would go out to a bar or something and in like a tipsy confession she says “i’ve never smoked” or something like that ”idk how to smoke properly im always coughing its so embarrassing blah blah blah”

Need my man to guide me through it

Billy x you! Nsfw 18+ only for smoking, smut, piv, creampie, hint of exhibitionism

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask anon! Once I got the idea for the vibe it just took off. Hope you all enjoy!

~

It’s late, almost midnight, and you’re sitting up on the roof of your apartment building with Butcher and a cold bottle of beer each. The air is a little chilly but not bad and no one else seems to ever come up here so it’s nice. You’d met Butcher at the bar but it had been crowded and annoying so you’d invited him back to your place. 

The building seems to be mostly made up of elderly people but you love it. They’re kind and quiet and you love being able to help them when they need. The random baked goods you receive from time to time don’t hurt either. There’s one old lady specifically that Billy has charmed completely. He’s definitely got her wrapped around his little finger, that one. 

And you enjoy the quiet at night. You’re sitting cross-legged on a sort of concrete platform on top of the roof that’s at the perfect height. Billy is sitting next to you, his big booted feet planted on the ground of the roof.

You can’t help glancing over at him, and you know affection is shining in your eyes but you can’t help it and you don’t care. You’d started this sort of friends with benefits casual thing a couple months ago but you were falling for him hard and you knew it. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, really rough, but there was so much more to him and you had never cared what anyone else thought. 

And damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. Tall, dark and brooding as fuck. 

“I thought you quit,” you murmur, nodding toward the cigarette he’s puffing lazily next to you. 

He smirks. “I did. Don’t know what ‘cher talkin’ ‘bout.” He takes another drag then holds it out toward you.

You pause for a second but then you take it between your fingers. “I always feel like I’m not doing it right…” you half joke. “And then I just cough.”

Billy looks at you. “All this time on planet ‘earf and ya don’t know how to smoke proper? It ain’t that hard, love…” He grins mischievously. “Just wrap those pretty lips ‘round and suck. But slowly, not too much. An’ let it out slow like, too.”

You nod, pursing your lips around the cigarette but Billy scoots closer immediately. 

“Not so tight, love, relax. Little more slack…ya know, like how ya move your lips when me cock’s slidin’ in.”

You’re immediately pulling the cigarette out of your mouth as your cheeks flush. “Butcher!” 

He just grins and inches back on the platform before he tugs on your wrist, pulling you to sit in his lap and guiding your hand back up. “Try again.”

You try not to think about how good his hard thighs feel beneath you and put the end of the cigarette up to your lips but let it rest there between the two instead of gripping it. You take a slow inhale in, and then slowly blow it out again, watching as the swirl of white smoke drifts gently away. 

Butcher squeezes your hip. “There ya are, doll, see?” he grins, his dimple showing and you know he’s thinking his metaphor is what made all the difference.

“You’re a menace,” you murmur, handing the cigarette back to him. 

Butcher takes a long drag, then after a moment lets go. The thick smoke curls out from his full lips and between the both of you as he exhales. There’s something so fucking sexy about the way he does it and the glimmer in his eyes as he catches you looking at him. He continues to exhale, the smoke kissing your mouth. You breathe it in, swearing you can taste him on it. 

Holding the cigarette up to your mouth again, Butcher watches as you pull lightly and his dark hazel eyes go even darker with heat.

The look makes you squirm in his lap and his big hand clenches your waist. “Ya keep that up and I’m gonna end up takin’ ya right here on this concrete,” he threatens - promises? - a low husk to his voice now. 

Yeah…the thought of that and his gruff tone make you wet for him immediately. It’s been a couple weeks since the last time you slept together and suddenly now you need him so much it hurts. 

He must be able to tell by the look on your face because the corner of his mouth lifts in a wicked smirk. “Ya like that idea, dontcha doll?” 

“Maybe…” you murmur and he tsks at you. He gives you the cigarette and you hold it up to your mouth again as his hand slips down between your thighs. Your leggings and your thin underwear do next to nothing to shield your already throbbing clit from his rough fingers.

He presses in firmly, rubbing his fingertips in a little circle, and his smile widens. “I can already tell, hot and slick for me, aren’t ya.”

Two can play this game, you think. Leaning forward, you bite his full lower lip and he growls, sliding his hand in your hair and tugging you close to capture your mouth fully with his. He tastes like cigarettes and beer and something uniquely him, masculine and rich.  

His tongue slides over yours, hot and possessive and it turns your insides to jelly, somehow making you want him even more when you thought you were already at the max. You moan into his kiss as his tongue strokes into your mouth. The sensation makes you shiver, your center throbbing for him, clenching around nothing. How you wish he was already buried inside you. Butcher holds you closer against him and only breaks the kiss when you push at his chest, gasping softly for air. 

His eyes are dark with need and his gaze is intense. His eyes flick to your lips and you know they must be swollen and pink from his kiss. Your breath is still coming in little pants but you panic a little under his steady stare.

“What?” you ask, a little scared of the answer, but the look in his eyes is making you think crazy stupid things that couldn’t possibly be real, you had to be dreaming…

“Ya don’t even know how bloody gorgeous you are, do ya?” he husks. 

“I - ” you swallow, your muddled brain trying to make sense of what he was saying. Fuck. His hand is still pressed between your thighs and you groan as he shifts you closer. The motion presses his thick knuckle right against your cunt.

“Fuck Billy…need you, please…” you gasp, wriggling against his hand, your eyes fluttering closed.

You don’t want to wait to go back downstairs, you don’t want to wait another second, you want him right here, right now out in the open air, all of his teasing way too much to bear. You’ll beg for it if you have to.

But you don’t. 

Billy is moving the instant you stop speaking. He lets go of you to strip his battered old coat off and you squeak, throwing your arms around his neck, the cigarette still between your fingers, to keep from getting dumped right off his lap.

He tosses his coat on the cement next to you then reaches down to pull your shoes off, before standing and flipping you over to lay you down across his coat. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, smiling up at him from your prone position. The cement is still cold and hard beneath you and his coat, but you don’t care and you know you’ll appreciate the lack of cement burn in the morning. 

“Oi, when am I not?” he grins devilishly  and before you can answer he’s pulling your leggings down your long legs, and everything else with them, stripping you bare from the waist down.

He catches your gaze, then his big hand slides from your hip to your side, pushing your shirt up. He bends down to nip and bite at your stomach then drags his mouth over your skin, beard tickling and rubbing, until he reaches your breasts. You wiggle and arch to help him push your shirt and bra up the rest of the way under your arms until you’re naked from your tits down, spread out for him on the cement platform in the night air.

“You’re a fuckin’ sight, ain’t ya,” he rumbles, his eyes taking their fill of you as his rough hands smooth over your body and the chilled air licks at all your naked skin. “Think anyone can see?” He glances up to the right of you, at a taller building next to this one that clearly has lights in some of the windows. 

You whimper, squirming and closing your eyes. “Oh god…” you breathe. 

“Splayed out naked, out in the open here and practically beggin’ for me,” he hums.

“Billy,” you gasp. You aren’t sure if you want to just hurry up and get it over with or if you’re actually going to explode with pent up lust but either way you need him to fuck you now.

Billy seems to acquiesce and he palms your breast, tugging at your tight nipple with one hand while the other undoes his buckle and the button of his jeans. 

He takes the cigarette out of your hand and puts it back in his mouth, holding it with his teeth and taking another long puff as he unzips his jeans, pushing them just low enough on his hips so his thick cock can spring free. He flicks the cigarette aside on the cement then uses both hands to tug on your hips, pulling you to the edge. 

“Fuck…Billy,” you groan as he slots his swollen length against your slick cunt and presses your thighs further part then starts to push in. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice…” he rumbles. 

You stretch for him as he slides inside you, but he’s so big and you have to take a breath to relax enough to take him all the way. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans in a gruff voice, and he shifts to slip his thumb over your clit to help ease his way inside. 

The moment the tip of his thumb circles the slick, tight bud, pleasure bursts inside of you and he thrusts all the way in, filling you up. 

It’s so good. You cry out loud, then quickly lift your hand to cover your mouth and muffle the sound but Billy grabs your wrist, pulling your arm away. “N‘uh…need to hear ya, love. Need to know how much you need my cock…”

“Everyone will…hear…” you whimper as he thrusts inside you again. 

“Won’t know it’s you, doll. Let them listen. Let them hear how good my cock makes you feel…”

All you can do is moan as he thrusts again and then again, his fingers teasing at your stiff nipple and then your clit again, driving you mad, always knowing where to go next. But you need more, you need all of him. 

“Harder…please…Billy…” you moan, clenching around his cock as he buries it deep, gripping the edges of his coat with your fingers. 

“Tha’s my good girl,” Butcher growls, thrusting harder and picking up his speed, hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over.

You’re crying out with each deep thrust now and you don’t care who hears. When you wrap your legs around his hips, he leans down and presses against you, catching your shoulders and holding on as he groans against the curve of your neck. You can feel the vibration from his chest just as he thrusts, hitting every nerve ending on the way. It makes you cry out loud again, desperate and wanton. The sound echoes off the brick walls, making you blush harder as the pleasure of it zings straight to your clit. Fuck why does it turn you on even more…and it’s so annoying how quiet he can be even when he’s making you crazy. 

After another moment though, all thought leaves your mind and all you know is how fucking good Billy feels as you balance on the knife edge of bliss. The base of his cock pushes right against your clit as he gives one last hard thrust and then starts to pulse deep inside of you. It’s more than enough to make you come too. You’re crying out his name before you can stop yourself in choked moans and gasps that can definitely be heard in the next building as your body shudders in overwhelming pleasure.

Butcher slumps against you as he finishes emptying himself in your body and you curl your arms around his neck, your cunt still fluttering around him as the waves of pleasure from your climax only slowly start to abate.

The cigarette lays forgotten going cold beside you as he finally pushes himself up and tucks his cock away. You can still feel his come leaking out of you, mixed with yours, warm and sticky on your thighs but you can’t even find the energy to cover yourself.

When he starts to slide your clothes back on for you, you make a little noise, tiredly protesting at the mess still between your legs, but he hums and shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that smirk he has with a glint in his hazel eyes. “Have to wait ‘til we get back down to your flat, love. You like it, dontcha? Feelin’ what ya made me do?” he adds, his voice still gruff and low with sex. 

You make a sound of resignation but it is kind of hot, his small possessive way of marking and claiming you. You’re his.

When he has your bottom half dressed again, he grabs your hand and tugs you up, helping you pull your bra and shirt back in to place. You feel completely boneless and blissed out, and you quirk your lips in a half smile as you look up at him. “Fuck Billy…” you whisper. 

He chuckles softly and pulls you close against his broad chest in a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get ya back inside and practice some more with that pretty mouth o’ yours, love, eh? Need ya too much.”

~*~*~ Thanks again anon, hope you like! Also thanks to @butchersdarkbird for letting me chat about it, @shirley-girly for giving me the perfect idea for a line for Billy on her reblog of a previous post and @dwinchesterspie1967 for the idea of including extra of his devilish smirk ❤️

@jynx15 @kus-babygirl @weallhaveadestiny @karlurbanism

@dustie-faerie @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy

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[chilling-seavey]

The Sunshine State (gr63)

↳ A/N Happy Miami GP Weekend! Even from up here in cold Canada, the vibes of this particular race weekend always hit the hardest. Pulled this little something out of the vault to celebrate :)

↳ Summary: George is in Florida for the Miami Grand Prix and brings you along with him for a bit of a vacation for yourself, but even in the excitement of the Sunshine State, mornings always prove the hardest to face without some sort of motive.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 6.9k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, wandering hands, thigh riding/grinding, use of lube, handjobs, fingering, nipple play, plethora of petnames, degradation (names like 'slut' or 'whore'), riding, one or two fleeting uses of 'sir', spanking, dirty talk, one minor hint towards impregnation kink but only in passing, some restraining with hands, minor cum play, unprotected sex, mentions of queefs and other natural occurrences, finger sucking, way too much description of George Russell laying naked in the sunlight.

“Hey, sunshine.” 

With a tired sigh, George dropped his bag beside the wall as the hotel room door shut behind him. You had closed your laptop at the sound of the key in the door and it was already tucked away on the ground when he had emerged from around the corner, leaving your hands free to hold out your arms to him. 

George smiled gently at you and slipped off his shoes as he took the three short steps to the end of the king size bed and knelt up on the end to shuffle towards you, “Hey, sweetheart.” 

He was so obviously tired but gracious for your welcoming arms as he flopped on top of you and snaked his arms around your waist. His heavy, relieved sigh had you smiling and you held him close for a moment, feeling the warmth of his body that had seeped into his clothing from the Florida heat outside, even after the sun had gone down. 

In preparation for his long awaited return, you had closed the curtains and turned on the bedside lamps and got yourself propped up in bed to wait for him, slouched back against the pillows and headboard. He was a bit later than expected coming back to the hotel room but that wasn’t new - it was often that time got away from him and the team after a long day at the circuit, going over final details for the race weekend. You at least had the pleasure of joining him this time. 

Despite his busy schedule, he seemed to master the balance of work and pleasure as you never once felt like he was leaving you alone for too long. The quiet evenings were almost better than the busy evenings as he returned to the room and to your arms with nothing but the strongest desire to cuddle and nothing was better than that, you were sure. 

“How was today?” you asked, sliding your hand up his arm and into his soft brown waves, swept messily by the ocean breeze. 

“So good.” George mumbled into your chest as his eyes started to close from the first graze of your fingers in his hair. His lips were pouted sleepily and his cheek was squished against your body, muffling his added, “So promising.”

“I’m glad.” you praised gently. 

Your fingers scratched tenderly over his scalp, twirling his hair between them and combed the wavy strands back from his tired face. George hummed softly in appreciation and nuzzled into you more, tucked up between your legs on top of the fluffy hotel sheets. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head and he smiled sleepily and tightened his arms around your middle. 

“Would you like me to say I missed you today or I didn’t miss you at all today?” you asked teasingly. Being a little joke between the two of you as you never wanted to make him feel badly for having to get his work done. 

“You missed me.” George mumbled. 

“Good, because that’s the truth.” you whispered and kissed his head again. 

“I missed you too.” George breathed, his voice soft and sweet.

The flutter in your heart was unmissable and you hid your cheesy grin into his messy hair that still smelt like the ocean breeze, “You’re so cute.” 

There was no reply so you leaned your head slightly to glance at his face only to see him already starting to drift to sleep in your arms and on top of the sheets. His body just grew heavier on top of you second by second as he eased out of consciousness and you rubbed his back a little and he moulded right into you. 

“Come on, sunshine,” you whispered and carefully started to push his light jacket from his shoulders, “come to bed.”

Stirring, George groaned gently, his voice thick, “I’m in bed.” 

He rotated between your legs slightly so you could pull his jacket off and although it took some effort on your end, it was soon tossed to the floor to be dealt with in the morning. Resting on his back against your chest, George let you do as you wished and you reached down to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans as his arms draped above his head to wrap his hands around the back of your neck. 

“Mm, buy me dinner first.” he mumbled sleepily, giggling softly at his own joke as you pushed his jeans down his thighs. 

“You’re so funny.” you humoured him quietly while you struggled to reach farther down to get his jeans off completely, “Kick them off, love.” 

George, eyes still closed with impending sleep, thrashed his feet around just enough to somehow manage to get his jeans off his calves and they dropped to the floor off the end of the bed. He sighed heavily and you shuffled the blankets down from underneath him as he shifted off of you to climb under the sheets at your side instead and you tucked them around him. 

“I’m big spoon.” he called sweetly as you reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. 

When you glanced back over at him, he was holding out his arm already, sheets raised for you, peeking at you through one half opened eye expectantly through the darkened hotel room. 

“Who says?” you retorted. 

“Me.” 

“What if I wanted to be big spoon?”

“You can tomorrow. It’s my turn tonight.” George whispered. 

“You’re always the big spoon.” you argued softly, shuffling closer towards him under the sheets and, in surrender, turned around so your back was to him. 

“So what?” George grumbled lightheartedly and wrapped his arm and the blankets around your body. “It’s my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite.” you whispered. 

He poked his head up over your shoulder and you looked up at him through the dark just long enough to see the hint of a smile on his face before he was nuzzling his face into your neck and kissed your skin, “I love you.”

“I love you, my sunshine.” you replied softly and let your fingers lace with his around your middle, falling once again into the comfort of his familiar warm embrace, “I’m so proud of you.”

Sometime in the night, you and George had rolled apart, occupying opposite sides of the king size bed without so much as touching each other one bit. That only meant that it was natural for you to feel a little empty when you rose into consciousness and didn’t have the blessing of your boyfriend’s arms around you. The sight of him was a reassuring treat though as you opened your eyes to the faintly lit hotel room to see the silhouetted form of George’s sleeping body just inches away from you. He had another busy day ahead of him but, selfishly, part of you wanted to just keep him to yourself and explore the area…the beaches…the city…anywhere together. He always worked so hard. 

You swam towards him through the vast expanse of white sheets, pulling yourself by the linens until you were at his side and your hand glided over the white material of his t-shirt still left over from the day before. His relaxed heartbeat thudded under your palm and you cuddled against his chest as he was facing towards you fast asleep. 

George’s soft sleepy hum made you smile and he draped an arm around your waist to pull you close until your bodies and limbs were tangled together and the sheets embraced you as one. You inhaled him deeply, nuzzling into his neck to feel him closer, surrounding yourself with the senses of his body that always felt like home to you. Like sunshine. 

His steady breaths were calming and you shut your eyes again in the safety of his embrace as if to expect to fall back asleep for the rest of the morning. Maybe if you stayed quiet you wouldn’t have to accept that there were things to do that day.

“Good morning, my love.” George whispered, his voice deep and thick with sleep and even though he cleared his throat gently, you just pulled your man closer. 

“Morning, sunshine.” you breathed. 

“I didn’t get a kiss last night.” he admitted quietly. 

You leaned your head back slightly to look at his face, processing the truth of his words, and then shuffled up a bit higher on the pillow to give yourself room to freely kiss his waiting lips. George smiled slightly, his pretty pink lips perking up in the corners, and he brushed the tip of his nose against yours before kissing your lips in return. The third time you both leaned in, you met a bit sharper than anticipated but you shared light laughter and your arm linked around the back of his neck and pulled his body closer as your lips locked like second nature. 

His fingers trailed down the bumps of your spine over your shirt and then slid underneath the hem at the bottom before moving back up the same path, leaving goosebumps over your bare skin in the process. You could taste the sleep on his tongue and the tiredness in his kisses but after being together for so long, sharing a bed, arguably sharing a life, nothing was to be fazed anymore. 

His messy brown hair called to your fingers and as you scratched gently along the soft hair at the nape of his neck, he moaned quietly into your kiss. George’s full hand was pressed against your back under your shirt as if to hold you close and as you shared long lingering kisses of lips and tongue, you tucked your leg around his two. It was the ideal way to greet the morning: to kiss yourselves awake. But it made the idea of having to get up feel even more than foreign. 

Under the sheets, George’s thigh nudged up between your legs a bit more almost like an open invitation and you shifted in his arms to take to rubbing yourself casually against his bare thigh. You held his lips on yours by the back of his neck and he let his tongue push against yours hungrily as your bodies moulded into one under the warm white bed sheets. The tight muscle of his thigh felt shamefully far too good under your clothed pussy that had missed the heat of his touch for a few days and you kept those small rotations of your hips against his leg. You both shared heavy breaths and trailing hands and you gripped onto the back of his white t-shirt to try and tug him even closer. 

“George.” you whispered into his mouth, as if keeping him present. 

There wasn’t any other place he would rather be, however. 

He shifted slightly beside you and leaned up on his arm to raise over top of you just enough to push his leg farther between yours and kiss you right down into the pillows. You moaned sweetly into his mouth, cupping his jaw with your other hand as you used your grip on his shirt to help pull you along on his thigh. Nothing but silence in the hotel room for two, you swore he was going to hear your thudding heartbeat behind the soft wet sounds of your passionate kisses and the discreet shuffle of sheets around your bodies. 

His hand slid down your back and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into your motions stronger and he shared in your soft groan. 

“Baby,” he breathed into your mouth between your deep kisses. His fingers pressed into your ass a little tighter and he almost started to grind right with you, smothering his growing urgency with another moan against your tongue. George gladly welcomed your pull at his shirt and the back of his neck, permitting you any part of him you desired in that moment as you were so obviously guided by lust; who was he to say no? 

He could nearly feel the warmth between your legs and how you slid your closed pussy against his thigh like you were going to make yourself cum from just that had him getting harder than he’d have liked to admit. And maybe your own thigh felt a bit too good against his crotch as he let himself rock his hips against yours a little and his movement had you biting down on his bottom lip with a moan. 

“Fuck, baby.” George pulled back from your kiss breathless.

Without wasting a moment, he pushed down the sheets around you both as the temperature rose between you. He let his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watched you grind on his thigh and he danced his fingertip up over your hip and snapped the waistband of your panties back against your skin, urging a small gasp from your throat. Missing his lips, you took to his neck instead, trailing open mouthed lingering kisses over his warm skin and let your greedy hands glide all over him despite the shirt that he still wore, nearly begging for him to touch you. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.” George groaned lightly, “You’re so gorgeous…I’m already so fucking hard.” 

Your only reply was to grab his face and pull his lips back on yours, swallowing up his surprised moan with your lips and devouring them with your tongue. He let you push him flat onto his back and you shifted over top of him so you were draped over his chest to reach his lips as you grazed your hand over the front of his boxers. True to his word, he was already hard and his cock strained pathetically against the thin material of his underwear as you palmed him strongly just to taste more of his pretty low moans on your tongue. 

“Take these off.” you whispered, snapping his waistband in return against the skin of his waist and right away he was dropping a hand to slide his underwear down his legs and he kicked it to the floor. His lips barely left yours, even as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to give you room to do as you pleased before sliding his hand into the back of your hair. 

His other arm wrapped around your back and he held you close to his body as you kissed yourselves awake. The pair of you fell into your blissful routine of lingering hands and passionate kisses and shamelessly sharing little moans and groans in bliss even at only the slightest of touches. Your taunting hand resting still on his lower stomach was driving him crazy but he didn’t outright admit that, not until you gently scratched your fingers across the thin line of hair there and his muscles physically flinched. 

“Touch me.” George breathed into your mouth, chasing your kisses like alcohol when you tried to back up. 

“Okay…I gotta get the lube.” you whispered, anchoring yourself on his chest as he tried to hold you down for a moment longer. 

His lips smacked wetly with yours and his urgency had you grinning into his kiss as his hands rubbed up your back and he finally pulled back with an impatient sigh, “And open the curtains…I wanna watch you.”

Without another word, you shuffled off the end of the bed and tugged open the curtains that hid the view of the Miami beaches, sending warm tidal waves of sunlight into the once near dark hotel room. The both of you squinted slightly in the sudden light but there was nothing more inviting than the Sunshine State’s sunlight to greet the morning with. It only livened up the light painted hotel room and George pulled off his shirt excitedly as you stopped by your shared suitcase and snagged the half empty bottle of lube on the way back to bed. 

Now privy to him in the daylight, you knelt up on the king size bed with the sheets almost falling off the end around you, and took a second to just drink him up. You loved George in anything, but you especially loved him naked…waiting for you…that sweet smile of his on his pretty pink lips. With him like that, everything felt different, like you weren’t more than just a single entity of true humanistic desire of natural man and woman. The mere sight of him made you near primal, craving, indulging in the brightness that he brought to your life in every single way possible. 

George thrived in the sunlight, you swore, and as he laid draped out for you in the middle of the hotel bed, it was only a fact that there was nothing more breathtaking in the world. His dick was achingly hard and rested up almost against the skin of his stomach so you didn’t waste time as you popped the cap on the bottle of lube and poured some onto your hand while crawling on your knees across the mattress towards him. 

As you leaned over him to set the re-capped bottle on the nightstand, George leaned in and wrapped his lips around your nipple through the material of your shirt, tonguing at it for just a second before pulling back and looking up to your face, his arms snaking around your body once more. You dipped down to kiss him sloppily as you shifted back into the same position you were in before—right at his side—and his lips simply followed yours wherever you moved and you were cautious of the lube in your hand as you rubbed it between your fingers and palm. 

George’s arm tucked itself under your body and rested his hand on your shoulder as you shared passionate kisses and your fingers teased the tip of his dick. His heavy exhale had you giggling softly into your kiss and he pushed his lips harder on yours as if to distract himself from your teasing. You finally wrapped your hand around the base of his dick and slowly stroked upwards, pulling a deep groan from his chest that you swallowed up with kisses to his plush lips. 

With slow but strong pumps of your hand, your kisses only seemed to mould into that same speed and passion- slow and deep and purposeful. The lube squelched filthily under your hand and it only urged you to drape your leg over his and try to get some of the agonizing pressure lessened between your legs by finding that friction that had raised you into consciousness mere moments before. George’s arm slung around your shoulders to pull your body closer, his other hand sliding down your back to grope a handful of your ass as you started to grind against his thigh again, mirroring the speed of your hand almost perfectly. 

As taunting as it was for him, it was for you too, as the replication of what could be a proper morning hookup was resorted down to a hand-job and thigh grinding. George nibbled at your bottom lip a little between messy kisses and you pushed your tongue eagerly into his mouth, dying to taste more of his soft moans in the morning sunlight. His fingertips danced across your waist and your hip and the bottom of your spine, inching up the hem of your shirt before tracing the curve of your ass. Kisses only seemed to grow louder as the seconds passed and soon George was linking a finger in the back of your panties and tugging them to the side.

“Oh my God.” you mumbled into his mouth, muffled by his tongue, and you took your hand from his dick to help tug your panties to the side completely, letting your damp skin touch his thigh without barriers. But right away you were back to your slow twisting strokes, slicking him up in lube until he was dripping precum and groaning into your mouth. His fingers only slipped themselves between your cheeks and right down to your pussy just to feel how wet you were. The fact that you were completely soaked only had his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer. 

Both of you could hardly breathe between your passionate kisses but neither of you wanted to stop, too hung up on each other’s lips to even think about choosing air as the priority. You just linked your leg tighter around his and ground on him harder, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your aching clit rubbing freely against his warm muscular thigh. You were a mess of limbs side by side, half intertwined, and George teased his fingertips around your pussy to slick them up in your arousal a little more before he wiggled one inside you. 

You swore breathily into his mouth and finally pulled back from his lips with one more wet kiss as your eyes met. You both bit your lips at the same time, sparking soft laughter between you as you each lazily used your hands on each other in the Florida sunshine that flooded the hotel room. 

“You’re so pretty.” you whispered. 

“You’re beautiful.” George whispered back. 

You both leaned in for a few more quick kisses until you were shifting impatiently at his side and his finger slipped out of you before he could even attempt to add a second. He seemed to read your mind as he let you push off your panties completely and then right away reached for your thigh and helped to swing your leg over his body. As you adjusted yourself onto your feet to squat over him, he shuffled farther down the mattress so he was laying flat once more and his careful hands helped to keep you balanced on top of him. 

“This,” you said softly, hands holding steady on his chest as he kept his fingers wrapped around your forearms, “is my happy place.” 

George smiled up at you, egging you on, “Where?” 

“On top of you.” you admitted and slowly leaned down to kiss his lips. 

You shared soft giggles together between gentle kisses before you were straightening up again and reached between your parted legs to grab hold of his dick. You stroked him slowly but strongly with your hand still coated in lube and then brushed the tip of his cock between your wet folds. George’s deep anticipatory groan felt warm all over you but he let you take your time to guide him inside you. 

The moment the head of his cock pushed past the entrance of your tight pussy, the two of you shared soft gasps and instant eye contact, lingering on that ever present connection of love that flowed between you. George’s hands found the bottom of your shirt and he lifted it up and over your head to discard the last piece of clothing to the floor, giving his eyes and his hands ample room to admire your breasts. He groped them in his palms as you kept yourself lowering down on his large cock but his eyes stayed locked on your face. 

“Good girl.” George whispered. “God, you feel so incredible.” 

Easing down on him, you were quiet for a moment in near concentration, hands pressed down against his chest for stability and your eyes dropped between you to watch yourself take him inside little by little. The sting over your hips was familiar and agonizingly perfect and to permit yourself deeper, you stopped about halfway to give him a few tiny bounces. 

“Mm, fuck.” George huffed out, his hands moving to drape behind his head and let you do all the work for the both of you. 

It was a responsibility you took proudly. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear when you looked back up to meet his gaze, “you’re huge.” 

“You can take it.” he said sweetly yet laced with an obvious cockiness at your statement and reached out a hand to stroke your cheek. “Come on, baby girl.”

With a gentle swivel of your hips, your ass finally met his thighs, welcoming his dick completely inside you. You hummed softly at the warm stretch across your hips and as you squared your shoulders again, hand sliding down his chest and eyes falling closed, you took a moment to bask in the morning Florida sun and the fullness that he pushed deep within you. The ache slowly melted away into that familiar blissful sensation of pleasure from being stretched and filled and you could cross your heart that no feeling was better in the world. 

“I swear you’re made for me.” you breathed into the air as your head fell back in the streaks of morning sun. 

George laughed softly and slid his hands up your arms that stemmed from their anchoring on his chest and he grabbed onto your biceps gently, “I think I am.” 

You raised your head up again to meet his gaze, “Made for me?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you feel that warmth too?”

“I feel everything.”

You smiled down at him and pet a hand through his hair and across his cheek and back to his chest adoringly, taking in the rays of morning sun that blessed his golden skin. You stayed perfectly still for a moment, just staring at him and each slight curve of his face that formed him into the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. There was no one else for you. Why would there be when you had George all to yourself? He was the equivalent to your Florida sunshine. 

“My love,” George gave your hips a little squeeze, “I love watching you take it all in but I’m gonna go fucking crazy if you don’t start moving soon.” 

You smiled sweetly at him, sharing a silent apology by the caress of your hands down his chest, and then slowly pushed yourself up just to sink back down on him. George’s teeth captured his bottom lip through a soft groan as he stared up at you, letting you set the pace yourself. His arms tucked behind his head again casually, leaving himself spread for you to do with as you pleased. 

You moved in slow shallow bounces, taking his cock as deep as it could go every time you bottomed out until you were both sharing soft moans and heavy breaths, only growing with time. It was easier to move while crouched over him on your feet and with your hands pressed to his abs and chest for stability, you could really start to get a rhythm going. As your intensity grew, so did the volume of your slick skin meeting on each downstroke and George’s deep groan filled your heart with warmth as he watched your every move. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that.” he praised lowly. 

You flicked your hair over your shoulder to give you space to stare down at his body greedily, soaking him up with your hands as you rode him almost gracefully, slowly, precisely. With the sheets pushed to the end of the bed, you were nothing but two naked forms joined together in the sunlight of the open curtains, given privacy by the height of the hotel floor you inhabited for the weekend. Despite the heightened view of the beaches just beyond your window, your gaze was drawn to nothing else but the man beneath you and his own hint of the ocean that lived in his eyes and the sunlight that made up his soul. 

You shared soft moans together, hands tracing skin and eyes following curves of bodies. George reached out to touch you again, using one careful hand to trace your collarbones and down to your chest and he gently pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. 

“Oh my God.” you breathed softly. 

Your audible praise had George propping himself up on his other hand to lean forward and wrap his lips around your nipple instead. His shift beneath you had his cock nudging deeper inside you and you shuttered softly as you gripped onto his shoulders, stalling for a moment. 

George pulled back from your breast with a small pop and his arm around your back tried to pull you into your motions again, “Keep going, baby.” 

You slumped to your knees from your feet on either side of his lap and right away started to roll your hips against his in strong purposeful circles that had you rising up and lowering down slightly in the same motion. George’s pleased moan reverberated against your breast as he sucked on your flesh and tongued at your nipple, only harmonizing perfectly with your own sweet moans and whimpers. 

His mouth felt good on your chest but you craved his lips on yours more and you set a hand under his chin to tilt his head up and you dipped down to kiss him hungrily. George’s deep groan at the surprise of your kiss only had your hips grinding down harder on him, addicted to that friction of his skin against yours. You pushed your tongue against his, urging his hand to the back of your neck to keep you there as your passion flowed into your kisses just as strongly as it flowed between you. 

Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair, clutching onto him as you swirled your hips faster down on him, desperate for more, moaning shamelessly into his mouth. George kept his hand on the back of your neck so as he gently laid down again, you were forced to follow him, your lips locked in sloppy breathless kisses and your bodies pressed together warmly. 

Now laying on top of him, knees pressed on either side, you started to rock back and forth on him, tumbling whimpers into his mouth as the new angle had the tip of his dick pressing into perfect spots deep inside you. Driven by lust, you only forced yourself faster, barely kissing him anymore as your desire for cock out weighed the sweet bliss of his lips and you merely breathed into his mouth as you fucked yourself back on him. 

“Fuck yeah.” you whined softly, fingers tangling in the fabric of the pillow case on either side of his head. 

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” George whispered tauntingly to you with his hands rubbing across your hips and ass as if to guide your movements back onto him, “Just wanna ride my dick like a pretty fucking whore?”

“Oh, God, please, sir.” you breathed desperately. 

“Yeah, you look like a fucking goddess.” George complimented lowly, pausing just long enough to spank you, “So fucking beautiful.” 

You moved one hand back to his chest as if to give yourself more leverage to try and bounce your hips on his in that flat position but the amount that you wanted didn’t seem to be met by anything that you were trying. George leaned up just slightly to get his lips back on yours, distracting you with his kiss as he slowed you down with his hands on your ass and then shifted underneath you to get his feet planted flat on the mattress. His hands held tightly to your hips and he gently pushed up into you. 

Your gasp broke your kiss with a pleading, “Please, George.” 

George’s soft grunt fell against your cheek as he thrusted up into you again and you gripped both hands down into the pillows beside him in anticipation for more. He took it slow, taunting you with a few slow thrusts up into your dripping pussy until you could hear him holding himself back with strained breaths against your skin. 

With a final spank to your ass, he was gripping your hips again and starting to pound you from below. Your squealing gasp had him groaning deeply as he held you tightly in place and his skin slapped filthily with yours, wetter and wetter with lube and your plentiful arousal welcoming him in.

“Yes!” you cried out, “Yes! Fuck, baby!”

The securely built bed barely made a single noise beneath you no matter how hard George was taking it but all you could focus on was the incredible feeling of him fucking you hard. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed his touch after a few busy days but it seemed as though you missed him taking over and fucking you much more. 

George only pushed himself faster, grunting softly against your ear as he rammed up into you greedily, forcing a pitchy blissful chant to tumble from your mouth, “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

It was like he was fucking the words from your mouth, turning you into a messy uncontrollable mumble of random words and sounds of pleasure in steady time with the clap of his skin against yours and the thick wet sound of your pussy sucking him in again and again. With your forearms pressed to the pillow on either side of him, you tangled your fingers in his hair as if to cradle his head and let your eyes burn into his. 

“Good girl.” George praised through his teeth, his breath falling shallow quickly. “Take it.”

“Don’t stop!” you cried out softly. “Fuck!”

His loud groan was incredible and you swore you felt it in every inch of your body, your fingers gripping tighter to his hair which only made him louder. You were each other’s perfect match in volume, nothing too loud as to disturb neighbouring rooms but just loud enough to help edge each other on a little more. 

“Fuckin’ love this pussy.” George groaned, still pounding up into you carnally as his fingers pressed into the flesh of your hips. He was nearly tugging you into each thrust, harder and faster, until he was tossing one arm around your shoulders to hold your body right down on his. 

“George!” you sobbed out, dropping your face into his neck. “Fuck! Yes!”

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he spoke lowly against your ear. “You gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Please!” you moaned loudly, tugging at his hair strongly, “Please make me cum!” 

“Okay. Come on.” George mumbled, almost just to himself, and shifted your bent legs higher up on either side of him as he thrusted up into you. The lewd wet sound of your bodies together was nearly making you dizzy and you arched down on him slightly to feel more of him, clutching onto his brown hair and whimpering loudly into his neck. 

“Oh, fuck! Right there!” you gasped out. 

“Feel it.” George ordered against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, “Feel how fucking big I am inside you? Reaching all the right spots? Like I’m made for you? That’s what you said. Yeah. This dick is yours.”

“Fuck, I’m so close.” you whimpered. 

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.” George whispered, “I want you to fucking cum. I want you to cum so fucking hard for me that you physically hold me inside you.”

“Oh my God-“ you cried. 

“Yeah, you want that? I can feel your pussy gripping down already.” George groaned, his words strained through his exertion but he didn’t dare stop his forceful pounding, “Want me to cum inside you? Fucking knock you up?”

“George-“

“Better cum for me.”

“Sir-“

“Cum.”

One hand flew out to the headboard and you gripped the top in a tight fist as you fell under his control, your body easily falling into his demands as you reached that blissful peak. George held you down against his chest, still thrusting up into you even when you tried to shift away in rising overwhelm. 

“Fuck!” you gasped through it, rocking back on him a little as your body tensed and you kept your hands laced in the back of his hair, breath falling against his cheek. “George-” 

“Good girl.” he praised through his teeth, “Shit, I’m gonna cum-” 

“Gimme it.” you pleaded softly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm clenching down around his throbbing cock. 

Only seconds later, and a few more thrusts, George was gripping your hips and holding you flush down on his lap as he came, tossing his head back against the sun soaked pillows with a loud moan, eyes screwed shut. You ground down on him in tight circles to work him through it despite the sensitivity of your entire tingling body as the feeling of that first warm spurt releasing inside you was far more addicting. 

“Fuck.” George groaned, his heels pressing into the mattress as he came and he bucked up sloppily and pathetically into your body a few more times, just to feel you all as he finished. 

You nearly cradled his head in your hands, blessed with the sight of his orgasm that spread across his flushed cheeks and swollen lips. When he eased out of it, his eyes found yours and right away he was leaning up just enough to kiss you, sliding his hand up your back to grab you by the back of your neck again. You shared pleasurable moans and heavy breaths into your kisses and your hands cascaded down his chest as you sat back from him. 

George hummed softly as he watched you sit up straight and he tucked his arms behind his head again, following your every movement as you secured your balance by your hands on his abs and slowly started to rise up. Trickles of thick white cream slipped down his softening cock as he slipped out of you and a little squeak of air followed. You shared light laughter at the sound and you knelt up over his lap and spread your pussy open between two fingers to let his cum drip back out of you and onto his warm skin, dotting that thin line of hair that dipped down from his navel to the base of his cock. 

George dropped a hand down to smear his fingers between your legs and pushed three inside you just to hear that filthy wet squelch again. He wiggled them deeper and you hummed flatly at the feeling, letting him do as he wished and when he pulled them back out seconds later, another little squeak of air slipped out. 

“Stop making me do that, it’s embarrassing.” you mumbled shyly, pushing his hand away.

“Just means we did a good job.” George tisked sweetly and slid his fingers into your mouth. 

You moaned quietly around them and he hooked his finger in your cheek to pull you down onto the mattress beside him. You pulled off his fingers with a greedy slurp and then cuddled up at his side, letting him wrap that arm around your shoulders instead and he pressed a kiss to your hair as he pulled you closer. 

“I love you.” you whispered. 

“I love you so much more.” George replied. 

“No you don’t.” you corrected as your eyes closed and you wrapped your arm around his middle and tucked one ankle around his. 

He kissed your head again and spoke into your hair, his fingers trailing over your back and shoulders, “Yes, I do.” 

“Prove it.” You merely giggled proudly and leaned in for a kiss but before your lips could meet, his phone rang. 

You sighed but hidden behind your still blissed out smile and George gently nudged your arm and leg from around his naked body so he could go retrieve his phone from his bag from the night before. Without the cover of sheets, you were still comfortable enough in his familiar presence to drape yourself out naked on the king size bed, watching him hop quickly across the hotel room floor to grab his phone. 

George raised it to his ear as his other hand pushed his hair out of his face, “Hey, Alex.”

You couldn’t hear what the conversation on the other side was about but you were too focused on your boyfriend’s beautifully sculpted body in the sunlight that streamed through the window; something about the Florida sky that seemed to have him shimmering in his element. He came around to sit on your side of the bed as he listened to his best friend’s concerns through the phone. 

“Yeah, we’re still meeting after lunch. I only have a quick debrief after practice this morning. Should be ready by 2:30 at the latest.” George answered. 

He leaned in to press a silent kiss to your neck, sliding his arm around your middle to pull your body closer and you giggled quietly at his touch. 

“No, you didn’t wake me. Was up for a while.” George continued, sending you a cheeky little smile and you leaned in to kiss his lips as quietly as you could. He angled his phone so the microphone was farther away as he moved down your neck again and turned to lean his body right over top of yours, falling on top of you right back down against the bed. 

“Working.” George answered his friend into your neck, “Very important work.”

With him so close, you could barely make out Alex’s repeated disbelieving, “Very important work?” through the phone. 

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful day. Had to get started as soon as possible.” George answered as he lifted his head up from your neck again to stare right into your eyes. 

You pressed your hand to his cheek adoringly and he leaned into your touch, sharing smiles together. 

“Now I gotta shower. I’ll see you at the track later.” George hurried out and then shoved the phone at you, “Say bye.”

You called out a far too loud, “Bye Alex!” right into the receiver.

George hung up and then tossed his phone across the mattress to give all his attention to tackling you back down on the bed in a shower of kisses and shared blissful laughter. 

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