#and spend a lot of time sprawled in there

[shawtuzi]

this one’s for you anon <33

this is 18+ so mdni thank yew

“oh….wow….”

you were absolutely speechless at the sight between your legs—suguru holding satoru by the hairs at the nape of his neck in a heated….kiss???

you knew nothing good could come out of more than half a bottle of d’usse and two blunts, hence why the two of them were between your legs once again, taking turns obscenely slurping at your pussy—but something felt different this time.

the first time they ate you out, yes their tongues were in close proximity but they never exactly touched. this time around though, they had no problem tonguing at your clit at the same time, moaning in unison as they made out with your pussy and boarder line each other but not quite. until geto abruptly stopped and pulled gojo in for a bruising kiss.

“really? in front of her??” satoru giggled, laughing even harder when geto shoved him away, wiping your essence and the salvia from the kiss from his puffy lips. suguru kissed his teeth, “let’s not act like you weren’t trying to shove your tongue down my throat a minute ago,” he said referring to gojo purposely brushing his tongue against his while they were going down on you.

satoru’s eyes flicked over to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “look at her,” he chuckled nodding his head towards you, “babies at a loss of words.”

“well i mean how could i not be i just saw you two kiss—with a lot of tongue mind you!” you knew the two boys were very close and had a knack of sharing their women but this was very unexpected, just how far did things go between them??

“him giving me head is as far as it’s ever gone,” suguru said, breaking you out of your thoughts. he continued, “when spend copious amounts of time with someone you begin to get curious about things…didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if we did—”

“no no!” you squealed, shaking your head. you sat up to get a better look at them, “i’m not uncomfortable i just wasn’t expecting that is all,” you giggled, giving suguru’s arm a comforting squeeze. you leant over and grabbed a roach from the coffee table, now getting comfortable on the couch, confusing the two men kneeling before you.

you sparked the blunt, a mischievous glint swirling in your eyes. “did you like it?” you asked taking a hit of the blunt. geto’s cheeks immediately tinted pink, he cleared his throat before answering, “yeah it was pretty good.”

gojo scoffed, “‘pretty good’ yeah right. you were immobile by the time i was done with you.”

you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips—the image of suguru geto sprawled out, breathless, and unable to move because of some head from gojo had you a little tickled….and kinda turned on.

“y/n are you okay? your smile is kinda creeping me out,” geto’s words fell on deaf ears, your mind too preoccupied with the best fucking idea you’ve ever had. “i have an idea, a really good one—suguru take off your pants.”

“huh???”

“yesssss!”

“please be quiet satoru.”

and that my friends is how geto ended up swapping places with you, sweatpants around his ankles, eyes rolled into the back of his skull while you and gojo both slurped at the tip of his dick.

“do you like it sugu? you aren’t even looking at us,” you pouted, cupping his balls in your hand, giving them a semi-rough squeeze. suguru’s mouth dropped open, his chest now heaving up and down rapidly.

“i c-can’t look—fuck! i can’t or i’ll cum i can’t i can’t i can’t,” his voice was shaky with every word it was too cute. you’ve never seen him in such a state—it made you kinda jealous gojo got to see him like this whenever he pleased.

“open your eyes suguru c’monnn,” satoru snickered, squeezing suguru’s tip so perfectly it had his toes curling. geto’s eyes suddenly popped open when he felt sloppy kisses against his thick thighs, he gritted his teeth, grabbing gojo by his white locks.

“don’t. do. that.” suguru panted, the urge to cum becoming unbearable. gojo cocked his head to the side, he licked his lips, humming at the salty yet sweet taste that was suguru geto. “what? you don’t want y/n to know how sensitive your thighs are—hmph!” satoru was interrupted by geto shoving his dick in his mouth, a low rumble emitting from his chest.

“thas’ more like it….c’mere baby,” suguru patted the spot on the couch next to him, his other hand still holding gojo’s hair in a tight grip. you were quick to hop on the couch, immediately smashing your lips against geto’s. geto moaned into the kiss, his arm finding purchase around your waist to pull you closer.

you ran your hand down suguru’s chiseled chest, satisfied by the little whimper that slipped past his lips when you began to tweak at his nipples. his hips bucked up making satoru gag, but it was certainly nothing he couldn’t handle. geto’s hand snaked down to your soaked center, he wasted no time plunging two fingers inside, his thumb making quick work rubbing tight circles on your clit.

the three of you stayed like this for a while—suguru sloppily fingering your dripping cunt, meanwhile satoru deep throated sugu’s dick like his life depended on it. “i’m!—i’m cumming!” your pussy clenched around geto’s fingers like a vice, your body slumping against his.

geto still held you close, roughly pumping his fingers in and out in and out until your thighs were soaked and you were pushing him away with whatever strength you had left. gojo pulled off geto’s dick with a lewd pop! “mmm that was hot y/n,” he smiled up at you, running his big hand over your trembling thigh.

“think you can help me finish him off?”

you’ve never been knocked out of your post nut clarity so quick. you didn’t even bother responding, hopping off the couch and onto the floor once more between suguru’s thighs.

man did he look so good right now. his hair that was once in a bun was completely disheveled, strands of jet black hair out in every direction. his chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, along with his face that was also a couple shades redder than when you first started. his muscles were bulging out due to him having the couch cushions in a death grip. yeah he looked delicious.

“ah shit,” suguru hissed when felt two hot tongues begin to caress his weeping tip. you suddenly felt a heavy hand rest on your head, turning it ever so slightly to the side until you were practically locking lips with gojo, suguru’s twitching dick still in the middle. geto let out a low whistle, patting your head gently, “what a fucking sight—ah! this is mmm fuck.”

geto’s praise had you both preening, now making it your mission to make him cum. you swirled your tongue down sugu’s dick to his balls, sucking one into your mouth. you ran your hand over geto’s trembling thigh gently before digging your nails into the soft skin, you dragged your nails down, leaving red streaks trailing behind.

“f-fuck shit—okay m’cumming m’cummingggg,” suguru threw his head back, moaning so loudly and pathetically it had your thighs clenching with need once more. milky white spurts dribbled from his cock and you and satoru slurped up every bit, the feeling of both your tongues lapping at his tip nearly driving him into overstimulation.

gojo gripped you by your cheeks, pulling you in for a nasty kiss full of tongue and clashing teeth. “that was good yeah?” he smirked, wiping spit from your bottom lip. you nodded slowly, mind a daze from what had just happened. gojo chuckled giving you another kiss, which you happily returned.

“doesn’t the guy who just got his soul sucked out deserve a kiss too?”

you both turned your heads to look up a breathless suguru, his bottom lip poking out just the slightest. you climbed on the couch, satoru following suit before leaning in to give geto exactly what he asked for.

you’d never been in a three way kiss before but it was definitely something. the three of you took turns sloppily exchanging kisses, and you definitely didn’t miss the way suguru palmed at satoru’s erection, making him whimper into the kiss.

“need some help?” you asked, breaking away from the heated kiss. gojo being the shameless man he was nodded with a pathetic ‘pleaseeee’.

“what do you say sugu?” you purred, looking up at him with the best doe eyes you could give. suguru looked at the both of your before letting out a dramatic sigh, “i guess—”

“YES! REJOICE!!!” satoru jumped up, quickly removing his pants, freeing his aching dick from its confinements. he cackled at the look on suguru’s face,“don’t worry i’ll go easy on you sweetheart,” he giggled patting his cheek.

what on earth had geto gotten himself into???

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Gentle On My Mind - Chapter 5

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 4.2k ish

TWs: Gloria's filthy mouth, angst, infidelity, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, possessive kink, size kink, spanking, Elvis is quite dominant, think that's about it.

Elvis spends that afternoon’s filming trying very hard to concentrate on his lines and not daydream back to his lunch break, him almost dragging Gloria back to his trailer, both of them giggling like naughty kids and probably making what they were about to do incredibly obvious to half of the film crew. Going through additional takes of some of the opening scenes in the gas station, he fights the urge to think about the feeling of Gloria’s mouth all around him as he leant breathless up against the wall. Tries to forget for a few minutes the puzzle of what it was she’d done with her mouth and hands that had made him come so quickly right down her throat. Between takes, chatting to Shelley about how hot it is and whether that makes LA seem more like Florida, he repeatedly pushes the thought that this was the second time he’d left Gloria full of his come out of his mind. 

Gloria also finds herself a little distracted, her mind drifting back to the fun they’d had at lunchtime. But, as she walks back to his trailer at the end of the day, a little later than usual because she’d got so stuck into what she was doing, she reflects that maybe she’s actually learning enough to get herself a proper job. Or at the very least, enough to make those stuffy old men think that she knows what she’s doing. She bites the skin beside her thumbnail a little, thinking briefly about going back to San Francisco, and then her mind drifts back to Elvis in the trailer earlier, his hand over his mouth so everyone on the film set wouldn’t hear him moaning as she sucked him off. She’s pretty impressed with herself for somehow stuffing all of that dick into her mouth and down her throat, it’s definitely a record. 

“Where you been, honey?” 

Elvis is sprawled on the couch, taking up the entire thing. She looks down at him. 

“Got sucked into editing. I’m really enjoying it, I can’t believe how interesting it is when people actually let you do things rather than just making you get them coffee.” She picks his feet up just enough to give her space to sit down, replacing them on her lap. “Thanks for making it happen it for me.”

“No problem, Glory.”

She tilts her head to the side. “You okay?”

“Hmmm. You ever been to Hawaii?”

“Family vacation in Honolulu a few years ago.”

“Did ya like it?”

She nods, her hands resting on his shins. “Mmm yeah. Beach life. It’s definitely a nice vacation spot. But there are beaches here!” 

Elvis frowns. “Can’t really go to the beach here. Too busy.”

Gloria doesn’t miss a beat. “Not if you went in disguise,” she suggests. “Why don’t we sneak off now and go to the beach and get dinner there? Instead of just sitting in here and eating burgers again.”

Elvis is briefly completely baffled by this turn of events, and he’s about to say he probably needs to take at least one of the guys with him, and that he doesn’t know if there will be food he wants to eat at the beach, and that he really doesn’t go places that are so busy… and then he just doesn’t say any of those things and instead just says “okay.”

Gloria sits for a few seconds blinking in confusion. She had been expecting a little more resistance, but since she hasn’t got it she just pushes his legs out of the way and leaps up off the sofa. 

“Let’s go!”

***

They take her car, and he hides in the backseat as they drive off the set. Gloria has a hard time keeping a straight face driving through the gates, thinking of him in shorts and a denim jacket she’d somehow found for him to wear, lying down as flat as possible. Once they’ve got far enough up the road she pulls over and he gets out and into the front seat. She can’t help giggling at him. She’d jammed a baseball cap on his head and made him wear his shades too, and he looks successfully nothing like himself. He had complained a lot, looking at his reflection in the long mirror in the trailer, but he relented when she put her arms around him and kissed his neck and told him she thought he looked sexy. She wasn’t lying. Looking at him now, once the giggles have subsided, she thinks he looks really good. More casual than usual, which she likes. And he’s not wearing too many clothes. One of her main gripes with the movie, whenever she stops to watch a take or two, is that they’ve over-dressed him. Since it’s meant to be set in Florida, she’d have expected him in shorts and a t-shirt a bit more often. And more sensible shoes. She does have a soft spot for that all-denim outfit, especially remembering him changing out of it and giving her her first glimpse of the outline of that fucking huge dick, but it still seems an odd choice for the movie. 

“What’re you thinking about, Glory?” 

She shakes her head a little and looks over at him. “Your fantastic outfit.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.”

“I like it.”

“Even this?” Indicating the baseball cap.

“Even that. In fact, you can leave that on later if you want, in bed.”

She starts to giggle again. Elvis shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know.”

He smiles as he looks across at her. She’s just put the top down on her car so her golden hair blows gently around her face under her sun hat. Her hazel eyes are shining with amusement and he watches her tanned arms on the steering wheel. She drives comfortably, seat back, keeping her eyes on what she’s doing but never looking remotely bothered by anything that happens. The car never jolts, the whole journey is a very smooth ride and Elvis wonders if he’s ever been driven by a woman who is this good at it. 

“God must’ve sent you to me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. 

“God?” She asks, spinning the steering wheel quickly as she looks for a space to park. “I’m agnostic, I don’t know if he’d have sent me. Probably would’ve wanted you to have a true believer.” 

She sticks her tongue out slightly in concentration as she backs the car up into a space. Elvis frowns slightly. 

“Agnostic?” 

“Hmm yeah. C’mon, we’re good, I’ve just seen a hot dog stand over there too. I bet you like hot dogs.”

“You don’t believe in God?” Elvis asks, following her as she bounds out of the car, barely stopping to lock it before she runs over to get in the line for the stand.

Gloria shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t think we can know so I don’t try. Maybe there is one, maybe there isn’t. Presumably I’ll find out eventually. Two hot dogs please, one with extra mustard.”

Elvis blinks at the heady mix of theology and fast food. He puts his arm around her as they walk down to the beach together. There are a lot of people, but none of them give him a second glance.

“I read the bible every day,” he tells her, somehow becoming deadly serious. “God is an important part of my life.”

She nods. “That’s cool. I wish I could believe in God but I just don’t have it in me. What about here?” She gestures to the bit of sand just in front of them. 

“Sure.” 

They sit down and start to eat. “You just believe in that white bearded guy up in the sky, or anything else?” She asks, with a mouthful of food. 

Elvis laughs and finds himself suddenly less serious again. “I’m interested in a lot of things. I’ve got this book which shows you how to calculate your number, and once you do that you can find out about your destiny and…”

“Numerology!” Gloria declares, completely interrupting him. “I love that shit.”

Elvis is immediately torn between loving her enthusiasm and being embarrassed by how loudly she just cussed.

“I’m a five, look,” she shows him the bracelet on her arm which has the number 5 hanging off it in the form of a golden charm. “What’re you?”

“An eight.”

“Oooooh we’re so compatible!” 

Elvis laughs. He finishes his final bite of hot dog and looks into her eyes. “Well it makes sense that you’re a five. It’s the number of freedom.”

“Yeah and I am still free from my panties, which I have to say is a very dangerous situation on this beach.”

“Oh. You could’ve brought a swimsuit.”

“Well no-one told me that!”

Their eyes sparkle as they tease each other back and forth, getting in a little play fight which ends with Elvis lying on his back in the sand, his cap knocked off, and Gloria half-sprawled on top of him. 

“Okay, so what are eights like then?” She asks, once she’s got her breath back.

“Great leaders,” Elvis replies, then giggles. 

“Oh, great leaders. I see. I’m just a mad impulsive girl who came to the beach with no swimsuit and you’re gonna be the president or something.”

He pulls her closer to him with the arm that’s currently wrapped around her shoulders. 

“It doesn’t look like I’m going to be the president right now, does it? No-one here has recognised me. Not one person.”

She puts her chin on his chest. “You’re in disguise.”

He huffs. “I was wearing a hat.”

They lie there for a while longer, talking about their respective numbers and debating whether Elvis wants to be recognised or not, and then he looks at his watch. 

“Think we should be getting back, Glory. The guys will be wondering where I am.”

***

Gloria notes the look of disappointment on Elvis’ face when he discovers that far from sending out a search party for him, no-one had even realised he hadn’t been in the trailer for the whole evening. 

“Can’t even pay people to give a shit about you,” he mutters, throwing himself melodramatically onto the bed, even though it's still early. 

Gloria kicks off her sandals and tries to dust the sand off her feet before getting onto the bed next to him. “I give a shit about you,” she says quietly, into his neck. 

Elvis is startled into looking down at her. He can’t see her face, buried as it is in the crook of his neck, but she sounds sincere. “I’m sure you do, honey.” He runs his fingers through her hair. 

She doesn't like his tone. It sounds like he’s dismissing her feelings, which had sort of snuck out of her when she wasn’t looking. She does give a shit about him though. It’s hard not to. 

“Well I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Elvis isn’t sure how to respond. He had thought that she just liked sleeping with him. But she has spent a lot of time listening to him over the past few days. 

“Um, thanks,” he mumbles, awkwardly. 

Gloria sighs quietly. Never mind her feelings then. Back to being her usual fun, sunny self. Only one day of filming left anyway. There’s no point in getting deep. 

***

The final day of filming is a busy one for Elvis, and he barely has a moment to himself. He looks longingly at Gloria from time to time, but there’s no opportunity to talk let alone anything else. He keeps thinking back to what she said about giving a shit about him. Running the conversation over and over again in his mind, he feels like he should’ve said something better than thanks, but once he’d missed his initial opportunity she had just started prattling on about numbers again. And not long after that she’d taken her dress off and he’d forgotten all about anything she might’ve said. 

“That’s a wrap!” 

Elvis sighs with relief at the words. It’s fairly late and he’s desperate to be alone with Gloria, on their final day together. Then he remembers the wrap party. There’s no way he’s going to get away without going, and probably staying for most of it. He doesn’t have any excuses. 

***

Gloria flits about the party, talking to anyone and everyone. She loves an opportunity to socialise, and this is even better because she’s making contacts in the industry too. Contacts outside of her daddy and his friends. And because no-one knows who she is, they treat her differently. With respect. She can see Elvis out of the corner of her eye, his flirting with Shelley getting almost completely out of control. She knows he’s trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t care about him flirting with actresses. After all, it’s not as if they’re going to be together after tonight. He’s going home to marry Priscilla. 

***

Elvis is pulling out all the stops with Shelley. Laughing loudly at everything she says that’s remotely funny, leaning in close to her when she’s talking quietly, carefully brushing a strand of hair from her face. Even going so far as to wrap an arm around her waist. Shelley’s enjoying herself but she’s not daft. She can see Elvis’ eyes flicking across to the pretty blonde on the other side of the room to see if she’s noticed what he’s doing. Shelley is amused that Elvis Presley is trying to get a girl’s attention, and in such a roundabout way. She decides to help him out a little. 

“Do you think it would help her notice if I did this?” She asks, putting both of her arms around his neck and looking up into his slightly surprised face. 

“Ah-I-I… I dunno what you’re uh… talking about,” he replies, stumbling over the words but putting his hands on her hips instinctively. 

“Ah come on, yes you do. You’re flirting with me to get her attention!”

“Oh no, baby, I wouldn’t do that… I-I-” 

“If you wanted to talk to me you just had to come over.”

Elvis looks away from Shelley’s amused face to see Gloria standing next to her. 

“Oh-Ah-I… honey, I jus’...” 

Both women laugh as Shelley removes her arms from around his neck. “See you later. Nice working with you again,” she tells him, giving him a kiss on his now burning cheek. 

“You looked busy,” Elvis tells Gloria, sheepishly. 

“I was networking.”

“Networking?”

“Yeah, you know. Making friends who don’t know who my daddy is.”

He nods. “I’m dying to get out of here.”

“Me too. Think you have to do a bit more though,” she nods at a man with a moustache making a bee-line for them. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. You can just come over and tell me this time.”

***

They finally get back to the trailer in the early hours of the morning. They’re barely through the door before they start pulling at one another’s clothes in an attempt to get them off. 

“I’m disappointed I was too busy filming to do this earlier,” Elvis pants, between frantic kisses. 

“Me too,” Gloria moans as he starts to kiss her neck. “And I hate that the party went on for so long. God, I thought we’d never leave.”

He unclasps her bra now that he’s taken her dress off. “When Bill started that speech…” he groans, then slides his mouth over her nipple. 

“The world’s longest, most boring speech, you mean?” She arches into his mouth as her hands find his belt and undo it. 

“Mmmm. Worst. Speech. Ever.” He punctuates each word with kisses that get lower and lower until his mouth is just above her clit. 

She squirms, her hands in his hair trying to push his head further down. He smirks and kisses his way back up her body again, lips finding hers. Moaning into his mouth, she grabs one of his hands and tries to guide it to where she failed to get his head to go. He chuckles as he pulls away from her again. 

“Needy little girl, aintcha?” He teases. 

She nods. “Been needy for you all day, big boy. Feel.” Finally managing to get his hand between her legs, she directs his fingers to run over her soaking pussy. 

He groans. “Bet ya ruined that skirt you were wearing earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s actually a great way to give yourself extra laundry,” she jokes. “As I’m sure you know, Mr. I Don’t Wear Underpants.” 

“Don’t do my own laundry,” he replies, before picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. “Right, you. Bed.”

Gloria squeals and kicks her legs and he gives her a quick sharp slap on the ass. She squeals again, in surprise and delight. Walking the few steps to the bedroom, he throws her down onto the bed so hard she bounces back up slightly. 

“Oooh Mr Dominant!” 

He shakes his head, trying to look stern but unable to keep himself from smiling. “It’s Mr Presley.”

She throws her head back and laughs uncontrollably. “Oh, is that what you want me to call you?”

Still giggling until she finds him on top of her, pinning her hands above her head, his eyes full of lust. “No, you know what I like you to call me. My needy girl.”

She moans a little at the name, trying to wriggle her hands free but unable to get away from his firm grip. “I want you… so bad… big boy,” she whines, arching towards him, desperate for more contact. 

“Think I might want to tease you a little first.”

She can’t resist trying it, despite what he just said. “Yes, Mr Presley.” 

He feels his dick get immediately harder at her words. He hadn’t thought he’d like it, usually people calling him Mr Presley made him feel old. But her cute west coast accent, her fluttering eyelashes and the slightly desperate tone in her voice have changed his mind. He leans down, kissing the skin just beneath her ear. 

“You can keep doing that.”

She bites her lip and rolls her body into his, now he’s that bit closer. “Yes, Mr Presley.”

He groans. Fuck. It’s going to be more difficult to tease her than he thought, if she keeps saying that. It’s going to be very hard for him to not just come in his pants. He kisses her again and then shifts so he can take the rest of his clothes off. Leaning back over her, he starts kissing gently down her body, enjoying watching her squirm trying to get him to move more quickly, deliberately stopping and peppering her with kisses just below her belly button until she’s groaning in frustration and begging him to move lower. 

“Please. Oh fuck. Please. I’m dripping for you.”

His eyes roll back in his head at the description and he decides to give her what she wants, spreading her legs with his palms and kissing her soaking wet pussy. She moans pornographically, hands grabbing his head as she grinds her hips up into his face, completely ignoring the fact that he’s only gently kissing her. He growls against her, vibrations making her moan even more loudly. Grabbing her hands and pulling them off his head, he looks up at her. 

“Don’t think my girl is doing as she’s told.”

She whines and wriggles. “I just want you to touch me…”

Shaking his head, he suddenly grabs her and wrestles with her until he has her over his knee. He brings his hand back and then slaps her hard on one ass cheek. She squeaks. 

“Feel like my girl needs to learn her lesson.”

Gloria rubs her thighs together, desperate for some friction. She’s so turned on she can barely stand it. She’s starting to wonder if she could just just come from him spanking her and calling her his girl. 

“Yes, Mr Presley,” she breathes. 

He bites his lip and tries really hard not to let on how much he’s enjoying this, though he’s sure she must be able to feel his erection digging into her. Slapping her ass again, he watches it jiggle and get red and listens to her moan and whine. Then he slides two fingers into her pussy. 

“Oh, fuck.”

Her head flops down onto the bed as she feels his fingers slowly thrust in and out, pleasure building inside her. Just as she’s starting to really enjoy herself he removes them and slaps her again. She screws her eyes shut and tries to control the noises that are coming out of her mouth as he continues alternating between touching her and spanking her. Eventually she completely loses control. 

“Oh fuck please Elvis please I want you so bad I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

He chuckles and gently lifts her head with his other hand. “I better put ya out of your misery, huh?”

Her head flops back down again as he starts rubbing her clit quickly, pushing his thumb inside her, listening to the pleasured noises she makes as her orgasm builds quickly and then completely overpowers her. 

“FUCK.” 

If he thought her cussing on the beach was too loud, this was on a completely different scale. He puts his hand over her mouth as he gently rubs her through her high, shushing her. Her hot breath and mumbled curses against his skin. He doesn’t let her lie there for long though, he’s so desperate to have his fill of her.

“On your knees, baby.”

She gets up slowly until she’s kneeling on the bed, looking up at him expectantly. 

“No, not like that. Hands and knees.” He gestures at her to turn around so she’s facing away from him. 

He strokes her ass with one hand and his dick with the other. “All that looking at your ass made me want you like this.”

Her moans start off soft and soon crescendo again as he starts to push inside her. Groaning as he finally bottoms out, he pushes her head down onto the bed. 

“I need you to be quiet.”

She whimpers a little at the feeling of being so stretched in this position. “Yes, Mr Presley.”

Trying his best to hold it together at those words, his hands grip her hips as he starts to move inside her. She presses her face into the bed to muffle the noises she makes as he pulls almost all the way out and then slides in again, repeatedly. Elvis is driving himself crazy too, the intensity of the feeling of her all around his dick is almost too much. He gives up on moving slowly, his thrusts hard and fast now, making her body rock with each one. Her fingers dig into the mattress, trying to stop herself just collapsing on the bed with the force of his movements. He’s pounding her so hard she can feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. But it feels so good too. So good that she can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

Elvis is so close it’s almost killing him but he really wants to feel her walls squeeze him again. “Is my good girl going to come again?” He pants. 

“Y-yes… yes Mr Presley…” she pants back, getting up onto her forearms and pushing back against him with every thrust. 

His eyes roll back in his head and then all of a sudden he feels it, the squeeze of her walls around him as she falls forward onto the bed, only the force of him gripping her hips keeping her from collapsing completely. 

“Oh fuck,” he murmurs, and just like the last time it’s only one or two more thrusts before he’s coming too, deep inside her. Letting go of her hips they both collapse in a heap, breathing hard. 

He rolls off her and then pulls her into his arms, covering her face in kisses. She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck. Breath still uneven, he looks at her with grave seriousness. 

“Are you okay Glory? I don’t know what came over me then…”

Her mouth curls into an even bigger smile. “I’m great, thank you, Mr Presley.”

Wrapping a leg around his waist as she watches him cringe a little and blush.

“Oh God you’re never going to stop with that now, are you?”

“Never. Thought you were enjoying it. I know I was.”

He moves to kiss her neck. “Yeah I was,” he murmurs against her skin. “You sure I didn’t take it too far?” He looks up, his face worried. 

“No way. That was so hot. You can throw me around like that any time you want.”

She watches as his face changes from worry to a look that’s almost pride. Then it changes again to sadness as he remembers that “any time” will be over in a matter of hours. 

“Do you have to go back home tomorrow?” He asks, urgently. 

“I don’t have to do anything,” she replies. “But um, no I can stay, if that’s what you’re asking?”

Is that what he’s asking?

“Yes please. Please stay.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog

[iheartz4starzz]

NEVER THERE 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

husband!chuuya x f.reader

SYNOPSIS: you only get to see your husband, chuuya, once a day, which is late at night when you're about to go to sleep. the next morning, you always wake up to him gone.

TW: slight angst, but dw, it'll be fluff at the end, might be a few grammar mistakes

NOTES: fun fact: a lot of these oneshots are based on my c.ai chats <3

Btw I never specified if the reader was taller or shorter than Chuuya, so you can just imagine it urself. ^^

You heard the door unlock, revealing a redhead mafioso, who peaked his head into the room. He let out a sigh and stepped through the door, running a hand through his hair as he set his hat onto his nightstand.

"Doll, did you wait f'me again?" Chuuya asked and crossed his arms.

There you were, sitting on your guys shared bed with your phone in hand. You were playing mobile games while waiting for your beloved to return home after a long days worth of work.

"Yeah. It doesn't feel the same when you're not here next to me when I sleep." You replied, averting your gaze with a slight pout.

Chuuya let out another sigh, but couldn't help but chuckle and smile warmly at how cute his wife was. He quickly showered and changed into his bedtime clothes before getting into the sheets next to you.

Resting your cheek on your husbands toned chest, you let out a breath of contentment before closing your eyes. The sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms was soothing for you, which was perfect to help you sleep.

"How was work today?" You asked with a yawn, trying to keep yourself awake.

"Fine. I had to fix a smuggling deal that one of my stupid subordinates messed up." Chuuya sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

You laughed, then snuggling closer to the redhead. You let out another yawn, to which Chuuya noticed and ran his fingers through you (h/c) hair. "You're tired, doll. Go to sleep now."

You shook your head in protest, blinking your eyes. "Nuh-uh! I want to spend more time with you, so I need to stay awake."

Chuuya shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Sleep now."

"But I-"

"No buts."

You sighed, closing your eyes to let your sleepiness consume you. Before you could final succumb to your slumber, you looked up at Chuuya with tired eyes.

"Will you be here next to me when I wake up?"

Chuuya could only bite the inside of his cheek and shake his head. "No doll, I'm sorry. I have work tomorrow."

You nodded and closed your eyes. "I love you, Chuuya."

"I love you to, (Name)."

The next morning, you woke up per usual to Chuuya not next to you. You let out a sigh of disappointment and stretched, then moving your feet to over the edge of the bed. You unplugged your phone from your charger and noticed a note and a red rose sitting on your nighstand.

You took the letter and read it, smiling in the end. The letter said:

'Dear (Name),

I'm sorry I can't be there to greet you in the morning. I promise I'll make it up to you next time with a bunch of presents, love, and kisses.

I love you.

Your husband, Chuuya.'

Though the letter was sweet, you couldn't help but frown in disappointment. That's what he would always say when you brought up the fact that he was never there for you. Pushing the thoughts down, you got up from bed and headed to your office to start working.

Usually you stayed home, due to the fact you were a stay-at-home wife, and partially of the fact you also worked from home. It was only those one times you went outside if you wanted to go shopping.

One work was finished, you went to the kitchen to make dinner and clean up around the penthouse. Once again, you ate dinner alone and left leftovers for Chuuya to eat once he got home. You then got ready for bed and got under the covers, bringing out your phone and began to wait till Chuuya came home.

Another hour passed, and Chuuya was still not home. You let out a sigh and laid sprawled out on the bed, starfish style. Bringing your arm up into the air, you stared at the hand with a ring wrapped around your ring finger. You chewed the inside of your cheek and rested that hand on your chest. You yearned for Chuuya's love, and missed him dearly.

Just then, the door to the bedroom unlocked, revealing the redhead who walked inside with a tired expression.

"Hey, Doll. I'm back." He greeted you with a smile.

"Welcome home." You replied and sat up.

After Chuuya was done with getting ready for bed, he got under the covers with you. Chuuya let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"I missed you." Chuuya told you.

You stayed quiet for a moment before responding. "I missed you to. But, you're not going to be here next to me when I wake up..."

Chuuya frowned. He felt a twinge of guilt in his heart and began to rub your back apologetically. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, (Name). You know how my boss is."

Suddenly, Chuuya heard sniffling. He watched you sit up from his arms and bury your face into your hands, beginning to cry. Chuuya felt his heart shatter to see you sobbing because of him. Chuuya sat up quickly and rubbed your back.

"(Name)?" He mumbled quietly, his soft voice laced with concern and worry. "Hey, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-I'm sorry. It's just that— I miss you so much, Chuuya. I only see you one time a day because you always come late from work." You sobbed and wiped your tears. "But every time I stare at my ring, I have to keep reminding myself that I have a husband! But it feels like I don't, because you're never here!"

Chuuya didn't know how to reply, and only felt his guilt increase from hearing your pain and yearn for his love. Chuuya cupped your cheek, turning you face towards him. "(Name), I—"

"Am I pushing you away? Am I to clingy? Is that why you're spending so much time at work instead of at home with me? Your wife?" You interrupted Chuuya, sniffling again. "Is your job really more important than your wife? Do you still love me?"

Chuuya's eyes widened when he heard that last question. He quickly brought you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "No, I still love you! And you're not pushing me away, (Name)—"

Chuuya took a deep breath before continuing. "You're not pushing me away, love. I would never allow that to happen, because you're the most important woman in my life. I love you far to much to ever let you go. It's just... it's my job."

"But wouldn't Mori understand that you have a wife at home? You're not just some mindless pawn for his use! You're your own person, Chuuya!" You argued, tears streaming down your cheeks. "N-No, I'm sorry. I understand that you're doing this for the both of us. I understand that you're working really hard to have a roof over our heads..."

"(N-Name), don't just brush if off like that," Chuuya stammered, cupping both of your cheeks. He let out a sigh before pressing a kiss against your lips. "I'll see what I can do, alright? Just... please don't cry. I can't bare to see you like this."

You nodded and laid back down in bed with Chuuya, wrapped in his arms. You sniffled again and wiped the left tears on your cheeks, your eyes puffy and red. "I'm sorry, Chuuya. I just don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I know, Doll. I understand where your pain is coming from, I really want to do something about it." Chuuya replied and brought your closer to him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "I love you, (Name). Don't think to much about it, okay?"

You nodded once more. "I love you to, Chuuya."

The next morning, you stirred from your sleep, blinking your eyes awake and looked to your side. Frowning to see that Chuuya wasn't there, you got up and ran a hand over your face.

'Don't be such a bad wife, (Name). Chuuya is doing this for both you and him. At least appreciate what he's doing.' You told yourself and got up from bed, making your way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

As soon as you left the bedroom, the smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the air, tingling your taste buds. You breathed in the smell, licking your lips as you approached the kitchen. You peaked around the corner, your eyes widening to see Chuuya standing at the stove with a apron that said 'Kiss The Cook.'

"Chuuya?"

Chuuya jolted and turned around, quickly turning off the stove and smiled at you warmly. "Morning, Doll."

You teared up, smiling as you ran towards Chuuya, crushing in a hug. "Agh! W-Why are you crying?" Chuuya frantically asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

"N-No, it's happy tears, Chuuya! Happy tears!" You repeated, laughing at his misconception.

Chuuya smiled and cupped your cheeks, giving you a morning kiss. "You're such a crybaby." He teased and flicked your forehead.

You whined and held your forehead, pouting as you looked up at Chuuya. The two of you laughed it off in the end. Chuuya wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you connected lips, the kiss strong, passionate, yet gentle at the same time.

After a few moments, the couple broke the kiss and smiled at each other. You rested your forehead against Chuuya's, eyes closed as the two of your soaked in the moment.

"I love you, Chuuya." You whispered.

"I love you to, (Name)." He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"Soo... Kiss the Cook, eh?"

"Shut up!"

ENDING NOTE: i didn't want to make readers wife role seem to clingy, or to unappreciative. i hope i didn't make anybody upset with reader, tho.

luv u all! <3

-mai

[buckyalpine]

Pick Me

Bucky x reader 

The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 

warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.

A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲

-

“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 

“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 

“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 

“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 

The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 

“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 

“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 

“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 

Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 

“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 

“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.

“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 

“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 

“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 

“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 

“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 

“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 

Still.

Something was off.

You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...

No.

He wouldn’t do that. 

Right?

*****

“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 

“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 

“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 

Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 

“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 

No.

Relax. 

“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 

“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 

“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 

“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 

“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 

“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 

You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 

But you didn’t want to be petty. 

You were more mature than this. 

“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 

“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 

“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 

“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”

“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 

“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 

You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 

“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 

“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 

“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”

You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 

“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 

“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 

“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  

“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 

“Fuck sweets, you look- 

“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 

“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 

Since when did he call anyone else doll. 

You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 

“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 

“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-

“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...

Right? 

You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.

*****

“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 

You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 

“Bucky, what are you-

“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”

Fantastic.

“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  

“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”

“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 

“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.

You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 

An hour later, it was 7. 

Then 7:30. 

And then 8.

By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 

****

Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 

He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 

“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 

“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 

“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 

We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 

“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-

“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 

“Yeah, I-

“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 

“Doll?”

“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 

“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 

“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.

How wrong he was. 

You avoided him in the morning. 

And the day after that. 

Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 

*****

“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 

“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 

“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 

“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 

“I didn’t mean to forget- 

“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 

“What did I do?”

“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 

“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”

Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 

“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.

“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 

As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 

“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 

“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 

****

“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 

“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 

“Baby, please!”

No. 

“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 

“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.

“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”

“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 

“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”

You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 

“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 

“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”

“You’re an absolute idiot”

“An idiot who is in love” 

“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”

“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 

“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 

“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 

“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 

“And he happily agreed because...”

“Because...?”

“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 

****

“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 

“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”

“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 

“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 

“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 

“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 

“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”

“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 

“You want a snack?”

“Nick?”

“Uh-Nicole?”

“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 

“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 

“Fuck, I love you James” 

“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 

“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.

“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 

“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 

“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 

“Yup, real happy”

“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 

Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 

“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 

[000-pawz]

zzz (bnd) ˚ · .

cuddling/sleeping with bnd, ot6 headcanons, fluff!!!, established relationship

more under the cut!

a/n: thank you sm for your cute request anon!!! ^___^ <3

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ randomly kisses your forehead or the top of your head

𐙚₊˚ tucks his head into your chest with his hair falling into his eyes, and you brush it away so you can see his face before dozing off <3

𐙚₊˚ will fall asleep in the middle of a sentence >< "yeah, earlier i was thinking that...." and he's gone

𐙚₊˚ he sleeps with those blackout curtains, so if you guys ever separate in the middle of the night, he'd probably pat around the bed blindly until his hands find you, sighing in relief that you're still there before falling asleep again <3

𐙚₊˚ slings his arm over your body in his sleep and makes it impossible to get up so you have to physically pry him off of you

𐙚₊˚ pouts a lot when he wakes up and hugs the blanket to his chest as you volunteer to look for his glasses (that somehow magically disappeared in the middle of the night)

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

𐙚₊˚ likes when you lay your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat

𐙚₊˚ intertwines your fingers together, his thumb stroking the back of your hand... probably plays with your fingers until he dozes off

𐙚₊˚ doesn't care if he's the big spoon or the little spoon, but he just loves when you're pressed against him, sharing body heat <3

𐙚₊˚ if a nightmare wakes you up, he'll stay up with you!!! he'll ask you to tell him what it was about, stroking your hair with his eyes closed <3 he's sleepy, but sleep isn't more important than your comfort

𐙚₊˚ sometimes he does that boyfriend twitch in his sleep and you're always like ??? is he good ???? but he's just dreaming <3

𐙚₊˚ somehow ends up in a fetal position in the morning with no pillows or blankets in his vicinity

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ weaves his limbs together with yours until you are completely wrapped up in each other

𐙚₊˚ his entire body melts when you hold him like he goes limp ><

𐙚₊˚ gets even more talkative when he's sleepy because he wants to spend more time with you (even though you guys are literally glued to each other)

𐙚₊˚ halfway through the night, he ends up sprawled out like a starfish with the blankets kicked to the end of the bed because he got too hot ><

𐙚₊˚ if you try to leave the bed during the night, he wakes up with a gasp and sits straight up!! when you tell him that you're going to the bathroom, he just mumbles "bathroom...." before falling asleep again

𐙚₊˚ needs at least 25 minutes to turn on his brain after waking up >< probably follows you around like a puppy in the morning with his arms wrapped around your waist before he remembers he has free will

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

𐙚₊˚ turns on a quiet playlist for you guys to fall asleep to!

𐙚₊˚ mindlessly plays with your hair, his fingers trailing down your neck before moving to rub soft circles on your back

𐙚₊˚ pulls the covers up over your heads and kisses you, soaking up your giggles and shy touches in the dark

𐙚₊˚ if you don't move for at least 2 minutes, he's out like a light... especially if your body is halfway on top of him like a weighted blanket

𐙚₊˚ if he wakes up and your backs are turned to each other, he'll turn around and spoon you from behind, pecking the back of your neck before dozing off again

𐙚₊˚ probably won't speak at all for that first hour he's awake. he'll just nod and shake his head to your questions ><

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ he would probably be a little playful before falling asleep! whispering in your ear, nuzzling his nose into your skin, quietly recounting his day to you

𐙚₊˚ kisses your forehead before tucking you into his neck, his chin resting on top of your head

𐙚₊˚ sometimes he starts mumbling in his sleep!!! mostly random sentences that make no sense, or a declaration to take over planet mars are something... but stroking his cheek and kissing his forehead soothes him <3

𐙚₊˚ takes off his socks in the middle of the night (and somehow, yours too)

𐙚₊˚ you'll wake up sometime during the night and see him sleeping like a sickly victorian child, flat on his back with his hands folded over his chest

𐙚₊˚ can probably sleep through your entire morning routine, breakfast, and mid-day brunch... you have to physically shake him awake to make him get up

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak

𐙚₊˚ definitely loves sleeping face-to-face so he can look at you, holding you tight in a hug with your legs intertwined!!

𐙚₊˚ giggles a lot when you guys make eye contact and buries his face in your neck

𐙚₊˚ #1 blanket stealer!!! he'll roll over in his sleep with the duvet clutched between his fingers so you'll have to shuffle over and steal some back ><

𐙚₊˚ his nose twitches in his sleep and he softly smiles sometimes while dreaming

𐙚₊˚ beware of the arm flails and random kicking (he always apologizes in the morning, but he's so cute so you're never upset <3)

𐙚₊˚ as soon as he wakes up, he's waking you up because he gets bored when he has to do his morning routine alone!!! he wants to brush his teeth with you and chat over breakfast so please wake up!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[bat-boys]

domestic bliss

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.5k words

warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!

summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate

a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻

Part 2

A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.

A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 

Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 

"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 

"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 

"Well, hurry up."

"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 

You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.

Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 

"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 

"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 

He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 

"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 

"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 

Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 

Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 

You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 

"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 

"With pleasure, sweetheart."

…

The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 

You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 

Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 

He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.

As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 

A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 

You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 

"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 

"Shadowsinger." You purred. 

"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 

"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 

Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 

After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 

With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 

"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 

"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 

"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 

"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.

"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 

"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 

Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.

"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.

"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.

"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 

"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 

"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 

"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 

"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 

"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"

"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 

"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 

"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 

…

Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 

He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 

A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 

A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.

"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 

"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.

"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.

"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"

He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 

"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.

"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 

"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.

It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 

Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 

Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 

The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"

He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 

He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 

"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 

His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 

"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"

"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.

"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 

"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."

He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 

"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.

His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 

"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."

Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 

He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 

"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 

He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 

"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.

"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 

"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  

Read Part 2 here!

[yandere-daydreams]

your puppy!yuuta got me thinking about being hybrid!sukuna mate🗣️he'd either be regular house cat(probably stray) or a tiger

i did actually want to write a hybrid sukuna piece sometime soon, but,,, he's such a hard character to pin down T-T there's a lot of options, but nothing that really clicks, so if i may present some options for the judges:

Stray Cat!Sukuna, who's the scrappiest, most feral tomcat you've ever met. He's quick to hiss, covered in scars, and yours is the only house he'd ever be seen inside of (and, even then, he'd rather not be seen spending time with a human). He lets himself in through open windows, helps himself to any meat you've got on-hand, and only ever purrs when he's asleep or ""scenting"" an article of your clothing. He's a nuisance of a cat, and even if you wanted to, you'd never be able to get rid of him. If he's going to put up with a human, that human's going to have to be his mate, and that's not a decision he needs your input on.

Tiger!Sukuna, who's less of a predator and more of a king. Most carnivorous hybrids only hunt out of necessity, but not Sukuna - he seems to take joy in cutting down anything that crosses his path. He's a beast, even for a big cat, but around you, he might as well be a housecat - always purring and sprawling across your lap, making sure that you know that he'd rather chew off his own foot than ever dig his teeth into you. It'd be a sweeter sentiment, if you weren't so aware that his kindness doesn't extend to those he feels have spent a little too much time too near to his territory.

Fox!Sukuna, who's as fox-like as they come. He's mischievous at the best of times, but he's more like a trickster spirit than a forest hybrid, always teasing and taking advantage of his kind-hearted, empty-headed rabbit mate. You're always getting stuck in his snares and falling for his silver tongue and somehow, you always end up on your hands and knees, drooling and sobbing as he forces you to take his knot. It's just unfair, but as a smaller prey hybrid, you don't have any other choice but to rely on him. No matter how mean he might be to you, Sukuna always makes sure to take good care of his stupid little mate <3

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “INTERLOCK YOUR LIPS WITH MINE.”

#. — synopsis. imitating that of a lamb with his love-sick actions should’ve gotten anyone sick to catch the slightest glimpse of his foolish grin, yet he’s way too blind to plainly realize that when his nimble fingers are so tenderly intertwined with yours, isn’t he?

#. — content warning! woah, barely any and none at all. first kiss, lots of kissing, tongue n shit, away from prying eyes, frottage, dry humping, obsessive — male kylar, ‘angelic’ male reader and well, fuck. some pining and yearning as per usual, mostly on kylar’s part.

#. — word count? 3.5k.

#. — asher, please. shut the fuck up. : “shitty tribute to the loser who made me discover this sick ass game. your reward? a tongue deep down your throat, you little whore.”

Evidently speaking, the last of things Kylar should be gleefully content about is the undeniable fact that here you are, sat atop this cushioned mattress due to your sheer brashness, impulsivity that had landed you both straight into the nurse’s office. Or perhaps, you had initially intended for precisely this to happen, so that he may naturally tag along with you.

Confidently raising your hand amidst an important lesson in class, falsely claiming that the quivering freak here, miserably suffered of a stomach ache as if he truly had one, huh— carefully roping the poor boy in another one of your clever, little schemes. Immediately tugging onto one of his used sleeves with an innocent expression of your own, how you so seamlessly fool the teachers is beyond him, really.

Though, he does get the slightest idea that it’s either from your shockingly pristine reputation that others are inclined to openly favour you or, the angelic gaze you prettily bless anyone with when gazing in their direction. Easy to delve further into sinful temptation, including your boyish charms if a mere flutter of your eyelashes and quirk of your rosy lips renders someone so stupidly dumb like— well, him. And others, too. Forgot that unnecessary part.

A liar is how he intricately knew you best, after all. Not necessarily a widely spread title you should’ve worn proudly, but hey, who’s he to possibly complain when it meant he could finally, spend some much-needed, well-deserved quality time with his one and only, beloved? Even if through somewhat unethical means entailing that of muttering out plain falsehoods which coincidentally had long since then, slipped past his forgetful mind. No, who’s he to blame himself when you did it firstly, and he simply followed suit to your patient guidance? Imitating that of a lamb with his love-sick actions should’ve gotten anyone sick to catch the slightest glimpse of his foolish grin, yet he’s way too blind to plainly realize that when his nimble fingers are so tenderly intertwined with yours, isn’t he?

Easily distracted by your soothing presence dizzyingly close against his, discreetly hidden amongst the draped curtains that surrounded your sprawled frames within the otherwise desolate room. Save for you two and the absent nurse who’s somehow conveniently away on some unintended business in some other class closely residing nearby. And, ah— truly, you smell so fuckin’ good.. Would it be so bad if he were to subtly close the remaining distance between you both, steadily draw closer to sneakily steal a whiff of your pleasurably sweet scent?? Yeah, no. Damn it, Kylar— Get ahold of yourself. Surely, that’s borderline immoral if not downright creepy to satisfyingly indulge in your depraved instincts simmering beneath this carefully fabricated mask of timidness he’s built over himself. But.. It’s not like you’d actually notice, right?

Ah, who’s he kidding. Was this not your original plan to begin with? Sparing you and him, a moment of solitude to yourselves, the eerie, yet somewhat tranquil silence that had easily settled onto you two, majorly concealed by the rhythmic thudding of his pounding heart deep within his chest. The things you do to him, truly.. Which hopefully, you hadn’t caught ear of that humiliating display of his pure want for you, if not already, obviously shown by the blazing flush adorning the entirety of his face and, not to forget that one minute detail— aching cock securely tucked away beneath his ripped jeans, dying to be coated by the welcoming, warm heat of your tight hole. Hah, even your soft palm would do, at this point, really— he means it.

And if not for the noticeably sweet hitch in his breath when promptly interrupted by a single question you dote upon him, fluttering lashes and glimmering eyes so innocently peering up from below him as though you’re stupidly unaware of the intended effects you possess over the depraved freak. A mere command wistfully whispered out from your lips would be all he needs to readily obey in turn, but he manages to with some measly restraint lazily placed upon himself, in favour of listening to your ushered curiosity.

“Say, have you ever kissed anyone before, Ky?” Simplest of questions, really— that would require an affirmative response of either yes or no, yet he finds himself unable to properly answer when faced with that subtle tilt of your head. ‘Course you’d be crudely conscious of whether or not he had done so, wouldn’t you? Unless you’re dumbly feigning ignorance to the undeniable prospect that he is seen as nothing more than undesirable by most and rightfully so, actually.

Anyone who truly attends the local school of Oxford would’ve grown painfully aware of the humiliating fact that this loser, right here, could’ve been nothing more than a miserable virgin because who the hell in their right mind — would possibly want to lay their untouched hands, much less their precious lips upon his own? Not necessarily a factual rumour that realistically bothers him since it simply means he gets to solely concentrate his energy on you; His loveable darling, right?

Quick to frantically shake his head in retaliation to the uttered query, more or less due to the increasingly pleasurable realization as to why you’ve originally dragged him along here in the first place. You.. ah, you intend to grace him with a blessing of your own, surely so? Grant him the chance of a lifetime and graciously allow him to breathlessly press his chapped lips against your own unblemished ones. How he has desperately longed— no, yearned to do so for ages and here you are, selflessly offering yourself up to him like the sweet fruit of sin a feathered breath’s away from gratefully being savoured by his drooling maw. Yeah, he’s definitely not hurriedly jumping off to conclusions from the sole, albeit indiscernable hint that you idly inquired him with a hyper specific question tumbling forth from your lips, right? This is definitely not just some make-belief fantasy his fogged up, deluded mind dreamily decided to suddenly make up, right??

“N-No, I’ve.. never k-kissed anyone— before.” He replies, breathless and shaky. Voice quiet, small, sounding barely audible to the ears. Embarrassingly enough, stuttering off in his stifled speech, strung up in a series of incoherent nonsense he wishes to truly express. Scalding warmth creeping up the sides of his skin, spreading out like a wildfire out of control — to the point where he can feel the scarlet flush of red extensively growing all over. Mainly a question of his own as to why it’s him of all people you’re lovingly in contact with right now, tenderly clasping your hands together in an affectionate hold.

Ah, right— is this seriously happening? Not only is he preciously embracing you within his fragile grasp, but you’re also willingly choosing to peer so intimately close to him like this? Considering your well-beloved status, held in high regards by the entirety of the school, openly revered by the same students who don’t dare to glance twice in his direction nor accept him for his nervous oddity— it’s an.. interesting choice on your part. Not that he’s complaining, not at all!

However, he’d like to know if you had, before him. Anyone else who could’ve stolen such a gesture meant to be happily cherished, preserved for the right person who’d somehow come along. A person which he hopes is himself when it comes to you, curious eyes meeting your own underneath the mess of a fringe he doesn’t bother to brush out early in the morning. Tentative bite of his swollen lip, soon becoming bloody in the anxious act of chewing upon the sensitive flesh.

“Um… Have— Have you ever kissed anyone before?” Redirecting the spotlight onto you, maybe to soothe the growing anxieties burrowing deep within his pumping heart, anticipation dizzyingly occupying him in a held breath when awaiting for your eventual response in return. Honestly, if you had.. He wouldn’t entirely know what he’d do then.

“Me? Hm, no. I haven’t either. I’m saving it for a special someone.” Special someone. Yeah, that’s all his sluggish brain hazily registered from that answer, solely fixated on who— wait, could it be him? Are your coy, little hints subtly being dropped here and there, discreet glances sent his way when accompanied by the aversion of your eyes in a slight display of shared nervousness, meant for a loser like him of all people? That serene smile you habitually wear though is making the whole ‘figuring out’ part a bit difficult for him. And, as properly known by most, specially when he repeatedly echoes out to the school that you two are ‘boyfriends’, unaware of your fragile status at hand — he’s not exactly the best at picking up on subtle social cues being decisively shot towards him, either.

“O-Oh, so you’re.. You and I are the same.” Probably shouldn’t be gleefully filling him with such giddiness to know no crooked bastard didn’t steal your precious first kiss, solely meant for him, but it still does. Familiar, manic grin cracking upon his face, eagerly tugging at his lips the same way his shaky hands come to invasively paw along the hem of your school shirt. Lightly tussled with the tailored collar scandalously coming undone, just for him, right? And, he’s soooo lucky to be the only one to gaze upon you in such a disheveled state, least, he hopes so.

“That’s right, we’re the same. Isn’t that funny? Me, being the same as you — of all people too, but y’know.. that doesn’t really bother me actually.” If that was intended as an insult cruelly shot towards him then, the entirety of the punch-line or hinted implications thinly veiled at hand, had gone over his blurring head. No, no— all he’s acutely aware of is that here, the both of you are, in an otherwise isolated room without the annoyingly probable possibility that someone might mindlessly walk upon your perched frames, catch you in the.. uh, yeah, the act. Act of kissing.. each other?

Or, is that impulsively moving a tad bit too far? As much as a clumsy ditz he can be, at the worst of times too, this must mean something, no? Like the mere gesture of hastily hauling him along to the nurse’s office, a shitty excuse you promptly made up on the spot, to grant you two some privacy isn’t just originally meant to be spent for idle chatter, surely so? Simply fiddling his thumbs together won’t aid him in finding out either, so he might as well.. ask.

Swallowing down thickly the anxious lump annoyingly residing deep within his throat, skittish eyes evasively avoiding your sharp gaze boring into his own to at least, somewhat calm himself before precisely asking the lingering question that’s been hanging heavily upon his mind. That— well, god.. he’s never been really good with words, has he?

“Why’d you— Why did you lie to the teacher about me having a stomach ache and bring me here then?” Good. That’s pretty direct, isn’t it? Save for the droplets of sweat quickly accumulating along the edge of his forehead, noticeably trickling down the length of his heated cheeks as if it wasn’t painfully obvious enough on its own what a nerve-wracking mess he suddenly becomes within your presence. You’re just so— so… shit, he can’t possibly describe it! All he desires is confirmation at the moment, confirmation for your mutual sentiments towards each other.

“Oh, cmon. Don’t tell me you’re that clueless, are you?” Well, yes. He is. Subtle cock of your head, sweetest chuckle he’s ever heard along with that rather innocent smile you adopt when asked your self-evident intentions here. “Wow. You really are, huh. Isn’t it obvious? Why do you think I went through all the trouble of coming up with a little lie for you, give us some alone time together? I’m not that nice to anyone.”

Recognizable smile effortlessly shifting to that of a smirk, feathered breaths alarmingly close against his burning face as the distance between you both progressively shrinks down to barely any space entirety. “You see.. I need a bit of reassurance to soothe my anxieties, y’know. What I want is for you to prove your love to me. Right now.”

Thumping heart steadily increasing at an alarming rate, scarred fingers nimbly picking and fiddling with the loose threads hanging along his used hoodie. Prove his undying love to you? “P-Prove it?” Audibly gulping down before echoing out the previously uttered command. “How should I prove it?” Oh, anything. He’s willing to do anything for you. Without hesitance nor objection. Hell, you could ask him to jump off a building, and he’d do it in a heartbeat. Just — for the love of god, say it already — say what he needs to do to selflessly prove his inborn devotion precisely made for you.

“Kiss me.” Uttering it out so effortlessly, breathlessly and well, he’s not one to make you sorrowfully wait, is he?

Nodding vigorously, like the lovesick puppy that he is for you — already peering closer towards your sprawled frame in a held breath, slightest hitch and rhythmic thump! of his heart when he’s selflessly granted the opportunity to finally, fucking finally — steal your first kiss away from you.

And, hah— truly, he’s so grateful for your direct orders, y’know? Because without it, he’d basically be a sweating, quivering mess, not that he isn’t either, just that — his nimble hands, normally shaking with second-guesses wouldn’t be so confident in their movements, tenderly cupping at your smooth cheek within the cup of his palm as he breathlessly presses his needy lips upon your awaiting own. Oh. Oh, fucking god, how dizzyingly sweet you taste, a full-on body shudder immediately descending the entirety of his arched back, instantly bending forward to pin you down onto the squeaky mattress underneath you both.

Careful not to make the smallest of sounds however! Wouldn’t wanna be caught sloppily making out with the most popular student in school, or maybe he does.. Just to— ah, prove to those repulsive creeps shamelessly salivating over the mere sight of your figure, that you’re strictly off limits. His alone to greedily savour. Mine. His mind endlessly echoes as this continuously carries on, and he’s not one either to selfishly complain, is he?

Love you— Love you so much. Repetition drumming along his brain, however, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing off the bat, not when you two were so desperately clinging onto each other like this. Fervently locking your lips together in a soundless kiss, hitched breath threatening to slip past yours if Kylar were to go any further — probably would though. Bad idea, yeah. Knew it was, but the mind numbingly good haze gradually washing over him as you both mutually caved in to your instinctual desires drew him in. Since it feels way too good to intimately be pressed against each other like this, openly whining down one another’s throat currently occupied by his. “I-I love you.” He murmurs, gasps against your mouth. Slick, wet tongue desperately sliding against his own, crudely sharing each other’s spits that yeah— he’ll probably be reminiscing upon later for certain.. purposes meant to be shared in an unoccupied stall of the school’s bathroom, pervertedly fisting his fat cock to the sheer memory of your addictive taste like a starving man, an utter freak.

Unable to help himself with the borderline pathetic whimper freely drawn out of his mouth, eyes easily slipping close to hungrily drink in yours too — rather subtle, faintly audible to the naked ear, but he still manages to catch it, catch the stifled whine, minor tremble in your perfect fingers instinctively finding themselves entangled within the mop of loose hair on his head. Tugging at the dark strands even, ah fuck.. His arms, already wrapped around your frame, tightening automatically to make sure you don’t somehow, escape from his clutched grasp. As if you could with the death-grip he’s withholding over you right now, practically digging in the white material of your school uniform, ruffling it all up for you to harshly reprimand him for later — not that it’s his actual initial concern here, really. Oh, if anything, he’s got something way better pleasurably keeping him busy.

“K-Kylar—“ Your incoherent mewls are just the cutest, y’know? Yes, yes, he’ll briefly apologize later for rudely cutting you off! But, something simple as a kiss when done with you, feels so fucking good — fuck, he might as well be cummin’ in his pant, which he sort of is with all the accumulated pre-cum messily dripping from his leaking tip, staining the elastic fabric all sticky in his ill-fitted jeans from precariously grinding your clothed erections together, seeking friction.

His hips involuntarily thrusting forward, or maybe intentionally — truly he’ll never admit to it! — instantly flushing at his salacious actions that, oh.. you’re a blubbering mess under him, heaving chest rhythmically puffing out before ultimately descending down to shakily exhale out a sigh. Cutest, erect buds blatantly visible underneath the rather thin fabric of your uniform, ones he’d like nothing more than to sloppily drool all over, savagely suckle on with a wet pop! of his tongue and leave his slippery mark there like some sort of— of, fucking madman.

Fuck, fuck fuck… if this keeps up, he’s bound to cream in his pants from a single kiss! Eyes automatically rolling to the back of his skull with every eager tug on his ripped sleeves, cock profusely leaking out slippery, warm pre to leave behind a trailing mess in his boxers. So fuckin’ whipped, downright enamoured by you that he’d be dying a happy man simply from having his longtime wish fulfilled, hidden desires fervently reciprocated by a lock of your lips upon his. All because of you — hah, you, darling. Don’t you realize the weight of his unending love for you by now?

Unfortunately though, as much as it would’ve been thoroughly appreciated to contentedly continue on like this, paired by the couple of gasping moans and wistful sighs collectively drawn forth from each other’s lips; One had to eventually be the one to pull away and you, of course, you were the first to reluctantly do so, drawing back slightly in a sloppy attempt to create some much needed space between your quivering bodies. Disheveled hair carelessly brushed aside to display the scarlet flush of your cheeks accompanied by dazed eyes hidden beneath the fluttering of your lashes.

Nearly whimpering when you effectively slip back for air, clutched fingers instinctively chasing after your retreating figure as though he was merely nothing without it. Which, he sort of is, pleading gaze and pouty lips sinfully directed to your decisive move, slumping back miserably once you’re out of his clawing reach. “A-Ah, don’t go.. I mean! Was — Was it good? Did I do okay?” He asks sheepishly, pink tongue experimentally swiping along his bottom lip to lick it clean, wild, green eyes flicking downwards to your kiss-swollen lips before hurriedly darting away. Seeking for your judgement and approval as per usual. How typical of him, huh.

“You— ah, you did, actually.” Catching your breath, looking so damn pretty when your usually flawless composure is crumbled along with his. He wants to break it till you’re a crying mess, really. “God, I didn’t know someone could kiss like that. You sure this is your first time, Kylar?” Don’t tease him like that! ‘Course it is, how could it ever be anyone but you??

“Y-Yeah, you’re my first— first kiss.” A confirmation to your question, meek nod of his head as he now wonders what exactly is there left to be said after such a heated encounter, but as always, you’re the one to make the first move — a step ahead of him every single time and, honestly, he loves you for it.

“Wanna kiss me again?”

Who’s he to not oblige to your every whim anyway? He’s only Kylar. The school freak. Absolute loser in town and the one you’re also, pervertedly sharing spit with too.

Guess he won’t have to creepily suckle on the tip of the chewed straw from your strawberry milkshake you normally sip at during lunch then. Since his lips will find themselves far more busy with something else later.

And by the sultry look you adopt, regarding him carefully with a quirk of your lips — he’s getting the slightest idea that maybe, his time will be better spent in the nurse’s office from now on, hasty kisses sneakily shared underneath the cooling shade of a sapling, arms eagerly looped around your waist to steal a quick kiss of his own. Whether in the tight space of a bathroom stall or the dusty storage closet, he’s content to have you in his arms no matter the place.

So, this time, don’t be the first to pull away— no, he’d hate to have to pin you down beneath his weight for you to properly take what he has so selflessly prepared for you today, ‘kay?

It’d be only be rude to deny him of what he’s patiently waited so long for like a good boy, no?

[strawberrydolly333]

rafe cameron nsfw alphabet pt. 1

18+ only, mentions of sex, drugs, kinks, sending nudes

a = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

rafe normally doesn't do aftercare when it comes to hookups or one night stands as he normally just kicks them out once they finish. but, ever since you started dating him, aftercare is always a must. he'll always grab a towel and clean your body, taking extra good care of your princess parts after ramming into them for endless of hours

b = body part (their favorite body part and also their partner's)

his favorite body part on himself would either be his shoulders or his arms. he works out pretty often where he does a lot of muscle training with the trap bar (s1 episode 4 rafe) and he also plays golf with topper so that can tone his arms too. as for his partner, his favorite body part on you would be your tits. he likes to snort lines of coke between the valley of your boobs before putting his entire mouth over your nipple and sucking on it

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he's a big fan of breeding you, where the sight of his cum flowing out of your pussy makes him wanna fuck you again. the idea of cumming inside of you and then having you carry his kids in your round tummy makes him go absolutely feral

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he oftenly thought about fucking you from behind, having you sprawled out onto the glass table as you snort up thin lines of coke, giggling and whining as you take his cock. he doesn't want you resorting to drugs and heavily relying on it like him, but the idea of you being his coke whore makes him go a tad bit insane

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

he's definitely not a virgin but he also doesn't go around sleeping with all the kooks in tannyhill. his body count is probably between 4-5 and ever since you guys started dating, he'll spend most of the time fucking you behind closed doors in his room while everyone is downstairs partying, with loud music blasting in the background

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

his favorite position is doggy-style hands down. he loves the view of your ass on display for him as you crumble within the bedsheets. while fucking you in doggy, he likes to grab your hair and create a makeshift ponytail as you take his cock, moaning and crying out for more (he also likes to grab your face and lean your head back as he spits in your mouth)

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

rafe does not play around when it comes to having sex with you. he prefers to take control, finding pleasure from making you feel pleasure. "yeah kid? y'like that?" he asked, thrusting deep inside of your tight walls, feeling your pussy clench around his length as he lets out a guttural moan

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he likes to keep his area shaved and if there is hair growing, he likes to keep it well groomed. he knows that if it gets too long, it could possibly make you feel sensitive/irritated so he likes to just shave it all off to be safe

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

as previously mentioned, when he would be with his hookups or one night stands, all he cared about was fucking them and kicking them out afterwards. after meeting you, he began to cherish the intimate moments where he'd often kiss your forehead tenderly when fucking you missionary-style. in person, he's often grumpy and keeps to himself but when you guys are together having sex, he shows his sincere love for you as you guys passionately fuck for hours

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he's taking care of stuff related to the cameron estate and has to leave for business trips, yes he jacks off. in fact, he'll actually steal an underwear from your drawer and bring it along with him, rubbing it against his cock in his private hotel room. he also has a polaroid picture of you with his cum all over your face, tongue stuck out, squeezing your tits together inside of his wallet that he'll stare at when jacking off

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he absolutely loves it when you call him 'daddy' during sex. it's even better when you call him that outside of the bedroom, casually and even in front of kelce and topper. another personal favorite of his is breeding. with you being on birth control, him finishing inside of you almost every single time never fails to amaze him. he'll pull out of you and watch his cum drip out of your cunt before stuffing it back in, not wanting any of it to go to waste

l = location (favorite places to do the deed)

he can be pretty risky and fuck you almost anywhere but aside from the bedroom, he likes fucking you on the golf course either behind a bush far away from others or having his dick buried inside of his cunt as you sit on top of his lap while he drives the golf cart. he'd purposefully drive over bumps and potholes, causing you to bite back a moan as you try and cover yourself with your skirt

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

lots of things can turn on rafe but when it comes to you, sending him nudes while he's out on business trips or dealing with barry makes him so horny. he felt his phone vibrate and as he opened his phone to see what it was, he was met with a picture of your pussy glistened with cum with a message saying "missing you right now daddy" and later that night, he made sure to fuck you extra hard for pulling such a stunt like that on him

[mallowsweetmiri]

Best friend!Remus with no boundaries leaves you alone with James

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It was another sunny afternoon spent studying in Remus’ dorm. You sat on his bed reading your Herbology textbook as Remus worked at his desk, finishing his Potions assignment. James was sprawled in the sunshine working on his Charms homework next to the open window.

“Y/N, can you pass me my vile of asphodel,” Remus said over his book, pointing to his potions trunk next to the bed. You hummed and leaned over the side of the bed, trifling through the case of potions ingredients.

“Erm, I think you’re out,” you replied, holding up the empty vile next to your face. Remus frowned and came over to the bed. He took a seat on the edge and took the vile from you. You crawled closer to him, resting your head in his lap as he flicked the vile. He sighed and ran his hand down your arm.

“I’m gonna have to go to the storage and get some ingredients,” Remus drawled, stroking your shoulder and neck with his long fingers. You hummed and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your bestfriend’s hands on your body.

“While you’re at it, can you get some snacks from the kitchen? I can’t focus when I’m hungry,” you looked up at him through your lashes with a pout. He only chuckled at you and squeezed your cheek.

“Of course,” he grinned, scooting out from under you. You sighed as you rolled back on your stomach to read. Remus tsked and pulled your cotton shorts over your bum.

“You need to get a new pair of shorts, Y/N. I think you’ve outgrown those,” Remus said as he walked towards the door. You heard James chuckle out a breath from his bed. You stuck your tongue out at Remus as you sat up to pull your shorts down. Remus chuckled and left the dorm, shutting the door behind him. You huffed and fell back onto the bed. James laughed and shut his book.

"Remus' sure has a lot of opinions on your outfits," James teased, sitting up to stretch. You guys had been studying for a while.

"You know how he is. I don't see why my shorts being short is an issue though," you pouted, standing up and stretching over arms your head.

"Well, I think they look lovely, Y/N." James smiled at you. He was just the sweetest.

"Awww, thanks Jamie. You're always so kind," you gushed and sprang towards him for a hug. Even sitting on his bed he was nearly your height, but he had always seemed like a big teddy bear to you. James chuckled and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm just telling the truth. Just because Remus is your bestfriend doesn't mean his opinions are right," James joked. Your smile grew as you pulled back.

"You're so right, Jamie. Maybe I should start to listen to you more," you beamed, liking the idea of spending more time with James. He was right. You were always hanging around Remus so much, you had neglected what a good friend James was.

"I like the sound of that," James half grinned, his hands falling down to your waist. You blushed and smiled back. You'd never really been physically close with any of the other boys before, your friendship just wasn't like that. But why couldn't it be? James was nice to hug anyway.

"Can we take a break from studying?" You asked, playing with James' soft curls on the back of his neck. James hands stroked your hips as you stood between his legs.

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" James laughed, still smiling at you. Gods, his eyes were so pretty. You couldn't focus on anything but his hands on your hips and his lips curved into that pretty smile.

"Well," you breathed, "What do you want to do?" You leaned in closer to him. James swallowed and let out another chuckle. You were starting to realize why you weren't so touchy with other friends.

"I can think of one thing," James charmed, pulling you by the hips towards him. Your lips landed on his, soft and warm as his tongue began to ask for permission. You let out a sigh and relaxed into his body, his hand coming up to your face to deepen the kiss. Another sigh escaped your lips as you moved to straddle his lap. He groaned as his hands found your hips once more, pushing you down onto him. You groaned when you felt him underneath you, rubbing up against your shorts. He was a good kisser too, biting gently on your lip as his hands made their way under your bum. If this was the result of wearing tiny shorts, you were going to wear them more often. Your thoughts escaped you as James' hands guided your hips over his, the rhythm matching the movements of his mouth. He was making your come undone with all of your clothes still on. You couldn't even imagine how good he'd feel with his clothes off. He groaned as he pushed you down over his length, his thumbs squeezing the front of your hips. You felt yourself starting to reach your edge as your hips began to take movements of their own. His tongue deepened the kiss while you moaned into his mouth. It felt like he knew every inch of your body already. Everything he was doing was sending you. Your sounds filled the room as his lips left yours to kiss under your jaw. His strong arms were wrapped around your middle as he teased down your neck. Your body was suddenly missing the friction, but James' arms were holding you still.

"James," you whined, squirming his arms. He chuckled into your neck.

"Just be patient, my love," he breathed, going back to nipping at your ear.

"We don't have time to be patient right now," you groaned, desperately needing to feel him. James hummed and gave your neck a soft kiss.

"You're right, we don't have time right now," James guided your head to look at him.

"But-"

"But I'll see you tonight?" He asked, a grin still plastered on his lips. You bit your lip as you smiled.

"Yes, I'll see you tonight." You blushed, giggling as you pulled yourself off of James. Maybe you'd gotten a bit carried away with your study break. James chuckled as he reached to pull your shorts down over your bum once again.

"Maybe Remus was right about these shorts," he smirked, thumbing the hem. You giggled as you heard the door open. Remus came into the room with an armful of viles. You and James let out a laugh. Good timing.

"Maybe," you winked at James and walked back over to Remus' bed. "Hi Rem. Did you bring snacks?" You plopped down onto his bed. Remus walked over and placed a tray in front you filled with sandwiches and crisps.

"Save me some," Remus nodded as he began to organize his potions supply on his desk.

"Do you want some Jamie?" you asked politely, turning to see James blush at you. His grin hadn't left his face. Remus' head perked at the nickname, but was too focused on finishing his assignment.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I'm actually gonna go run some quidditch drills. It's so nice out," James said casually, getting up to grab his quidditch bag.

"More for me," you shrugged and began to eat one of the halves. You watched James get his shoes on. His fingers looked so strong...

"Well, I'm out of here. Remus," James waved at Remus who responded with a nod. He turned to you, "See you later, Y/N." With a smile he ducked out of the room. You chuckled as you ate your sandwich, reaching for the book next to Remus' bed.

"Y/N," Remus sighed as he scribbled something onto his scroll, "why did James just say that?" You felt a smile tug at your lips.

"What? I can't hang out with James?" you chimed, flipping to your chapter in the book. Remus shook his head and tsked, continuing to work on his paper.

"It's those fucking shorts." You let out a snort.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

--

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

--

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

[eomayas]

08:42 • ksy

pairing: non-idol!soonyoung x f!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!, fluff

synopsis: morning sex (and kink discovery) with soonyoung

warnings: slight daddy kink, p in v, handjob, unprotected s*x, fingering, reader calls soonyoung an ‘asshole’ twice, soonyoung is very cheeky. dialogue heavy!

a/n: had lots of fun writing this! the idea was super random but i thought it worked well for my hoshibae

“i have to work,” you mange to pull yourself out of soonyoungs hold, but not out of his reach as a slap is delivered to your ass. you flip him off and pad over to his dresser, and dig through your designated drawer that he emptied out for you a few weeks ago.

“call out,” he quips, and this time you roll your eyes. you glance at him through the mirror, a lazy smirk on his face as he lies sprawled out in his bed. the sheets are draped over him haphazardly, strategically drawn over his hips but exposing the rest of his toned body. it’s tempting, soonyoung in bed, ready to have his way with you, but you really have to go to work.

“how will i eat? pay rent?” you ask, placing your folded clothes on top of his dresser and spinning around to face him.

“i’ll take care of you.”

you lift an eyebrow. “you’ll be my sugar daddy?” you’re teasing, but you don’t miss the way he shifts in the bed. soonyoung curls his arm behind his head, and you so badly want to grab your phone to take a picture of the sight before you.

“are you going to call me daddy?” his cheeks redden as he asks, and you smirk at him, leaning against the dresser.

“that depends; how much are you going to spend on me?” he smiles and sits up straighter in the bed, the sheets bunching up around his hips. your eyes scan the room and find his discarded underwear at the foot of the bed.

“as much as it takes for you to call me ‘daddy’,” he answers, a giddy smile on his face. you roll your eyes.

“i want some numbers.”

“name your price.”

you tilt your head. “i think ill go to work,” you say, shutting the dresser and spinning around to look at him. you open your mouth to make another comment, but it dies on your tongue when he raises his arms over his head to stretch, muscles in his arms and stomach tightening with the movement. he’s tempting, sitting in bed with nothing but a light sheet covering his hips. it’s enough to make you want to be a few minutes late to work.

soonyoung catches you staring, sees the resolve dying within you and smirks. “your loss,” he says, slipping out of bed, unsheathing his nude body with confidence that makes you instinctively lean against the dresser. he saunters into the bathroom, catching your eye in the mirror with a wink before disappearing around the corner to the toilet.

you can’t help but follow after him, stepping into the bathroom and avoiding looking at him even as he flushes the toilet and turns towards you, his entire body on full display. you reach into the shower and turn the dial, adjusting the temperature once the stream begins. you start undressing, casting a glance in the direction of the mirror to look at soonyoung, who’s eyes are already on you. you blush, and play it off by looking away from him and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. “you’re staring,” you comment, letting the garment drop to the floor before you step out of your underwear.

“you’re hot,” he says plainly, the way somebody would say that the sky is blue, or that 2+2 is four. you just snort and step into his shower, sliding through glass door shut.

when soonyoung doesn’t immediately slip inside after you, you pull it back open. “are you getting in?” he reappears in the bathroom with a grin on his face, and you back out of the way to let him in. soonyoung immediately crowds into you, arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into a hot kiss. soonyoung slips his tongue into your mouth with ease, and you let him just as readily. his hips press into yours, and you arch away from his mouth when you feel his member against your thigh.

soonyoung chases after your lips with his own, whining when you gently push his face away from yours. “i actually need to shower,” you say, but you press your chest against his own and skate your nails up his biceps.

swinging you around, you shriek when soonyoung plants you directly in line of the stream of water. “you’re an ass,” you say as he squirts body wash into his palm and rubs them together before planting them on your backside.

“and yours is my favorite,” he says, a toothy smile adorning his lips. he rubs soap into your skin, gently kneading your flesh as he goes. soonyoung works his hands up your body, working the soap into your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts. you watch him with parted lips and low eyelids, wetness growing between your thighs each time he drags his palms across your body.

palming your breasts, soonyoung softly massages the flesh and you lick your lips. “don’t get cute,” you mutter, a quiet gasp leaving your lips when he gently pinches your nipples until they peak. you press your thighs together and soonyoung continues rubbing your breasts, his dick growing harder with each quiet sound you make, and as your chest gets sudsier.

“fuck, i could come just looking at you like this,” he says shamelessly, groping your chest greedily. his dick is hard and heavy, the tip bright red. you glance down and grab ahold of his dick, and begin pumping him. soonyoung grunts and his hips buck into you, one of his hands leaving your chest to brace himself against the shower wall. “shiiit.”

soonyoung hangs his head as you jerk him off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he grunts and curses, your name spilling from his lips in a choked moan when you massage his balls with your other hand. “ch-chill,” he captures you lips in an open mouthed kiss, his breathing labored.

your breasts are forgotten about as you keep working him out, and you grow weaker and weaker with each whine you pull out of him. “e-e-enough,” soonyoung stammers, body curling into yours in an attempt to get away from you. his release is right in front of him, but if he’s going to finish its going to be because of you pussy, not your hand.

“you’re no fun,” you pout, adjusting the angle of the shower head to rinse the soap off of your chest. soonyoung keeps himself upright by leaning against the wall and watches as you rinse off his artwork with heavy eyes. “can you fuck me?” you ask him, voice sweet and innocent as if you didn’t just ask him that lewd question.

the corner of soonyoungs lip curls upwards. he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into another hot kiss, his hands sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. he turns you away from the water and backs you up into the far wall of the shower. soonyoung spreads your ass cheeks apart and slips his fingers towards your entrance. “call out,” he groans against your mouth when he feels how wet you are, biting your bottom between his teeth.

“you want to be called ‘daddy’ that bad?” you quip, shuddering when he slips two fingers into you. you clutch onto his shoulders and press against him. “d-didn’t know you were into that.” you let out a moan when he drags his fingers out of you and presses against your clit.

soonyoung skates his lips across your jaw and down your neck before sucking a hickey into your skin. “asshole,” he fucks his fingers into in the form of an apology. “i-im n-never call—fuck!” you lurch into him, raising up on your toes as he rubs quickly at your clit. your legs begin to shake and you dig your nails into his skin to get a better hold against him, your mouth near his ear mewling out his name.

“hmm?” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. you can’t even work up the ability to call him an asshole for the third time, because pressure builds and builds in your stomach until it becomes too much, and you release all over his fingers. “that’s it, baby. that’s what i thought.”

“fuck you.”

“i’m trying.”

soonyoung spins you around and presses you against the wall before tugging you back by the hips and making you arch. you splay your palms flat against the the tile and suck in an anticipatory breath. “i love you, by the way,” he says, kissing your shoulder. you smile, cheeks tinging pink, snd glance at him over your shoulder.

“of course you do,” you reply, groaning when he drops his hand onto your ass with a smack. you push back against him, urging him to either stick it in or to do it again—the choice is up to him, and either are enough to get you off for a second time with how turned on you feel.

“say it,” soonyoung presses, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick. it’s a bit surprising to know that he’s into the whole ‘daddy’ thing. you don’t really have any opinions about it, besides that it feels a bit cheesy, but you’ll try anything once with him—but no before making it harder on him (no pun intended).

“it.”

he scoffs and teases your clit this time, your mouth dropping open. “say it,” he rubs his hand over your ass before slapping it again, this time a bit harder than the last. it stings in the best way, and you let it be known by moaning out a breathy “fuck”. soonyoung draws his bottom lip in between his teeth, ready to give in and just fuck you so you don’t get fired, but he really wants to hear you say it just once. “if you’re really turned off by it, i’ll drop it. but if not, then i won’t fuck you until you say it.”

you don’t want to lie to him just so he can fuck you, but you really can’t bring yourself to say it and mean it. soonyoung is your baby, your lover, your person, but daddy? you don’t even know how to take that seriously. “daddy, fuck me,” you try, ready to burst out into laughter the moment it leaves your lips.

it makes his cock twitch despite your flat tone. “say it like you mean it.”

“what does that even mean?” you bark, looking over your shoulder at him. when you see the look on his face, the way he holds his cock that’s leaking with precum in one hand, you sigh and turn back around. you push your hips back and make your voice as whiny as possible. “daddy, i need you.”

you don’t know why that does it for him, but he sinks himself deep inside of you in one smooth go. you whisper out his name as he stretches you out, your entire body feeling like he’s splitting you open. “s-soonie,” you whimper as he pulls out and slams back into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“fuck, you are so tight,” soonyoung groans, putting hand on the back of your neck to have full control of you. you cunt squeezes around him like you’re trying to suck him in deeper and simultaneously keep him out. he keeps on bullying his way into your cunt, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “i’d take care of you even if you had two jobs.” he pants. you want to laugh, but when you open your mouth you only cry out his name.

soonyoung let’s go of your neck to grab onto your inner thigh, and lifts of your leg to fuck into you at different angle. “right there!” you cry out, chest arching into the cold tile.

“i love you so much,” he whines, eyebrows knitting together as he stares down at where you two connect. the tip of his dick presses into that spongy part inside of you and has you squeezing your eyes shut. “quit your job and let me fuck you all day.” he cries out, biting down on his bottom lip as his resolve begins to shatter with each thrust.

“fuck your job,” he rambles on, hips rutting into you quickly, his previous rhythm lost. you can only moan out a string of curses, legs starting to feel like jello. you definitely will be limping later, if the hickey wasn’t already enough embarrassment. “fuuuuck, i’m close.” soonyoung whimpers.

soonyoung let’s go of your legs and supports you by firmly holding onto both of your hips. he yanks you back onto his cock, moans echoing off the shower walls as you cunt spasms around him, your release mere moments away. “shitshitshit,” you cry, gasping when he pulls your back flush against his chest and holds you by the throat, his grip firm but loose so you can breathe. “ah!” he wraps his arm around your middle and prods at your clit with his middle finger. he rubs your sensitive nub until you’re coming undone on top of him, your cunt clamping down on him and making it nearly impossible for him to move underneath you.

ropes of his come shoot inside of you moments later, his hips stilling and a whine of your name leaving his lips as he reaches his climax. he pulls the two of you back under the stream of water, removing the hand that’s on your throat to make the water cooler. your eyes fly open when the water hits you, and you untangle yourself from soonyoung, frowning when he’s no longer inside of you. “fuck, i am so late,” you complain, but you spin around and pull him down into a long kiss.

“thank you,” he breathes once you pull apart, wiping water out of his eyes. “for, you know.”

“as long as you’re happy.”

“well, i realized it’s not really my thing. you’re just hot.”

you smile at him and give him another quick peck. “good, because you were moaning like a little bitch in my ear.”

[maysileeewrites]

Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend

17+ content; mdni!

Part I | series masterlist | my Coryo masterlist

summary: You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. You've always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore ...

chapter tags/warnings: some best friends to lovers angst and emotional confusion, lots of fluff, slightly ooc Coryo (don't worry, the possessive jealousy borderline crazy obsessive behavior will come in later parts!), a lil smutty treat at the end of the chapter

word count: 5,7k (it’s worth it, I promise!!)

You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. 

You’ve grown up together, experienced everything together, with your family living just across the street from Coroy’s family’s apartment. 

You’ve been there for each other during the dark days of the war, when both his parents and your father died. You’ve attended the academy together for years. 

You’re planning on going to University together as well, though that is still in the future, seeing as it will be a few more months until you’ll both finally graduate the academy. 

Really, Coriolanus is such a constant, important aspect in your life, you can’t imagine life without him. 

He’s always there for you - whether it be to laugh over a silly joke one of you two made or to hug and console you after a bad day or to look out for you and protect you. 

You’re inseparable, really, spending almost every moment together. 

Before, you’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - they’re not quite so pure and innocent anymore.

Lately, you’ve caught yourself staring at Coriolanus more and more often, gaze lingering on his bright blue eyes, his mischievous smirk, his blond curls or his toned, muscled arms or chest. 

When he hugs you, you can’t help but notice how good it feels to be pressed against his toned chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin. 

When he reaches out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into his warm, comforting touch. 

When he reaches out to draw you closer, his hand settling possessively on your waist, the first thought in your head is that this - this feels right. You and Coryo together, as close as possible. 

And you can’t help but want, no, crave, more of it. 

More of Coryo, more of you two together, more of that dizzying, heady feeling you get whenever he touches you that sends your thoughts spiraling and makes your heartbeat go haywire. 

You’ve started to crave his touch more and more, always trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch him - letting your hand brush against his, laying a hand on his arm to steady yourself or reaching out a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead. 

You feel yourself starting to get addicted to him more and more - and you have no idea how to stop it. 

Though, if you’re honest with yourself- you don’t want to stop it. 

You want to get lost in this snow storm of feelings. 

“Let’s go through this one more time”, Coryo says from his place at your desk, prompting a sigh from you. 

“Coryo”, you say, whining, “we’ve been going through this this whole afternoon. I think you’ve got it. Besides, the test is not until next Monday, you’ve got the whole weekend to continue studying - not that you need it.” 

“You know that I can’t afford to get anything other than an A on this test, right?”, Coryo replies, sighing. 

“And you know that you’ll get an A, even without studying, Coryo”, you reply, finally sitting up from your sprawled-out position on your bed. 

You can see Coryo shaking his head, about to say something else, so you hastily add: “Please, Coryo. I know how much you worry about your grades - I get it, I really do. But, you’ve slowly been driving me insane this afternoon, I can’t go through this stuff yet again, at least not right now.” 

When Coryo doesn’t reply immediately, you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You didn’t want to sound so mean, but the truth is that he has been driving you crazy this afternoon. You’ve already gone through all your notes of ancient history three times and you really don’t want to go all through 18 pages - front and back, in Coryo’s small, neat handwriting no less - of notes yet again. 

Coryo sighs frustratedly. 

You look up, only to find his intense gaze fixed on you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry, you’re right”, he says, sighing again and running a hand through his blond curls. “Maybe I just need to take a break-“ 

“That sounds wonderful”, you say, cutting him off before he has the chance to add a but to his suggestion. 

You get up from your bed, walking over to your desk and grab both of Coryo’s hands, trying to get him to get up, but Coryo doesn’t cooperate, becoming a dead weight to you. 

“Coryo, come on”, you plead, huffing a sigh of frustration, when he still makes no move to get up. 

You take another step closer to him, putting even more strength into the motion of your arms - just when Coryo smirks up at you, before tugging hard on your hands, causing you to stumble forward; right into his lap. 

“Asshole!”, you exclaim, pushing against his chest with your hands, but Coryo doesn’t budge. 

He just looks up at you with a triumphant smirk, a daring expression in his blue eyes. Daring you to do what exactly, you’re not quite sure. You just know that you’re trapped in his gaze, unable to do anything but look at him and get lost in his blue, blue eyes. 

And - this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened lately. In fact, lately you’ve found Coryo’s eyes lingering on you more and more often, his intense gaze seemingly burning you. 

And it should frighten you, how much you’ve come to crave the feeling of his eyes on you. And it does, but there’s something else there as well - a yearning for his attention that hasn’t been there before. 

The soft sound of Coryo chuckling at your scowling expression draws you out of your thoughts. 

“Need some help?”, he asks you, smirking. 

You huff a sigh of frustration, trying to push against his chest again - at the same time that Coryo tugs on your arms again, causing you to shift even more forward in his lap, until you’re pressed flush against his strong, muscular chest. 

Flustered, you feel your cheeks warming, your heartbeat quickening. Coryo is so, so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his heartbeat under your hands. 

And - well, you’re sitting right in his lap, and once you’ve worked through your initial confusion at his sudden closeness, you can feel something else as well. Something hard pressed against your stomach- 

Coryo clears his throat then, gently pushing you away. You stumble, disoriented from the sudden motion, but then Coryo’s hand is there on your waist, steadying you. 

He leans in even closer towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly, as if nothing has just happened. “You were saying something about taking a break?” 

You swallow, trying to calm your still erratic heartbeat and forcing a smile onto your face. “Sure. How about a snack and some hot chocolate?” 

“Finally satisfied with all the torture you’ve put me through today?”, you say, yawning, when you see Coriolanus finally closing his folder - you feel like you’ve been studying for ages and you never want to see his ancient history notes ever again. 

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating against your back. You don’t quite know how you’ve ended up in this position - both of you on your bed, Coryo sitting behind you, you sitting between his legs, your head leaning against his chest. 

It shouldn’t feel so good, being this close to him, especially after that incident earlier this afternoon- that still has your mind reeling and your cheeks heating up whenever you think about it -, but it does. 

In fact, now that you’ve got a taste of it, you don’t ever want it to stop. 

You bite down hard on your lip, trying - and failing - to stop this dangerous line of thinking. Because allowing yourself to let your thoughts spiral like this, allowing yourself to feel this nervous, heated energy that’s coursing through your veins, instead of suppressing it, like you’ve done until now - is dangerous. 

It will only lead you down a road of heartbreak. Yet you can’t seem to find it in you to hit the brakes and stop. 

„Torture?“, Coryo now says, drawing you out of your thoughts. „You seem to be in an awfully good mood for suffering through a whole afternoon of torture.“

You can’t help but smile at his words, though you’re glad that Coryo isn’t able to see it - he’d just call you out and tease you for smiling like an idiot to yourself. 

„Yes, well, going through eighteen pages of notes - front and back - four times is torture-“, your words are cut off by a surprised, startled yelp, when suddenly, Coryo starts tickling you. 

„No - Coryo, please!“, you manage to get out, but he’s unrelenting, only tickling you harder despite your protests. 

Both his hands are wrapped around your waist and your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. And even though you’re still giggling, trying to fight him off, you can also feel that nervous, heady feeling that sends your thoughts and heartbeat haywire again. 

You give up trying to fight him off, then, which Coryo immediately notices. He laughs softly, before finally ending his tickling attack and resting his head on the crook of your neck. „Enough torture for today?“, he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You try to turn around to face him then, but both his hands are still on your waist, trapping you in place. „You’re a jerk, you know that, right?“, you say, though your voice doesn’t sound quite as steady and dry as you’d intended it to. 

Coriolanus just laughs, the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over your skin causing you to shiver involuntarily. „You’ve never complained before.“ 

You huff, rolling your eyes. „Well, you’ve never bothered to acknowledge it.“ 

„Mhm, that’s probably for the best …“ 

You roll your eyes again - his answer is just so typically Coryo. 

„What, no witty retort?“, Coriolanus asks, but you only shake your head, yawning.

„We both know that you can be quite the jerk, ’s nothing new … besides, it’s late …“, you mumble, trying to suppress another yawn and leaning back against his chest again. It is late - already way past eleven, the street outside your window already dark, safe for the streetlights. 

You close your eyes, wishing that you could just stay like this, wrapped in Coryo’s comforting embrace, if only for a short moment longer.

„You’re right, it’s late“, Coriolanus now says. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up so long, I should get going …“ 

„Or you could stay.“ 

The words are out of your mouth before you’ve thought them through and you can feel yourself flushing again. Now, you’re really glad that you’re still facing away from Coriolanus - you feel like you’d die from embarrassment if he could see your face going beet-red. 

„I could …“, he says, his voice uncertain. 

„Yes … you, uh, could …“, you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re glad that Coriolanus isn’t able to see it - really, you’re just glad that he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting around him lately, your heartbeat picking up, your cheeks flushing, your hands getting sweaty when being around him; sometimes just from a single touch or a lingering look from Coryo. 

It’s not like you’ve never done this before, like this has never happened before. This wouldn’t be the first time that Coriolanus sleeps over at your place. In fact, he used to do so a lot when you were younger, right after his parents died and he was plagued with nightmares. It stopped happening as often when you both got older, and now, it hasn’t happened in years. 

And somehow him sleeping over at your place now seems to be something totally different than him sleeping over at your place when you were both little kids. 

You’re not little kids anymore - you’ve changed. You both have. Your friendship has changed, evolved as well. 

Coriolanus is still your best friend, the one person you wouldn’t want to live without; but somehow, he’s not just that. He means something more to you as well, something else, something much less innocent than friendship-

„Yes, I could - I mean, only if that’s alright with you and your mother-“

„Sure“, you interrupt him, your voice sounding incredibly high and nervous. Fuck, you think, running a hand through your hair, and trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. „I mean, it’s no big deal …“ 

Lie. 

It is a big deal, but it’s probably for the best that Coriolanus doesn’t know that the thought of falling asleep right next to him excites you way more than it probably should. 

Coriolanus laughs softly. „Great … Should we get ready for bed then? It’s quite late and you always take ages getting ready for bed-“

„Just admit that you need your beauty sleep“, you interrupt him, teasing him back. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. 

„Exactly“, he says, dryly, before gently losing his embrace and getting up. 

You follow him to the bathroom, your mind still spiraling. Just minutes earlier, you were complaining about going through Coryo’s ancient history notes four times; now, you’re following your best friend to the bathroom that’s connected to your room, to get ready for bed - with your best friend who’s sleeping over. 

In your bathroom, you hand Coriolanus a spare toothbrush, a comb and a towel, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips when your hands brush against his. But then, he draws you closer with one hand, his hand resting on your waist for just a moment too long and you’re blushing again, the thought that you shouldn’t feel so excited and nervous about your best friend sleeping over already forgotten again. 

It takes you quite some time to get ready for bed. Not, as Coriolanus keeps insisting, because of your way too long and time consuming evening routine; but because of him distracting you with his lingering touches and stolen glances - messing your hair up again right after you’ve combed through it; catching your gaze in the mirror over the sink again and again while you’re brushing your teeth; drawing you closer just when you’re about to reach for your night cream. 

It’s way past midnight when you’re finally laying down in bed - right next to Coriolanus, who turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face after you’ve reached for the bedsheets, drawing them over you both. 

He scoots closer to you, before wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to him, your back flush against his chest - the gesture so casual and natural, as if it doesn’t make your heartbeat go haywire. 

„Good night“, he whispers, before resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

Your heart skips a beat then. 

„Good- good night, Coryo“, you manage to get out, your voice wobbly. 

You close your eyes, though you already know that actually falling asleep will be almost impossible - how are you supposed to just fall asleep with Coriolanus right there, your back pressed against his chest, his hand on your waist, his head resting on the crook of your neck? 

No - you probably won’t even catch a single second of sleep this night. 

But somehow, that doesn’t sound too bad. (Not when you get to spend the night like this, with your best friend wrapped around you.) 

The next morning, you’re the first one awake. 

Coriolanus is still soundly asleep, his even breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. You’re in almost the same position as you were when you fell asleep, with Coriolanus’s hand on your stomach, his head resting on your shoulder. 

You were right, you think, yawning, you didn’t get much sleep. It took you ages to fall asleep, your mind still reeling from Coriolanus’s overwhelming closeness. You must have fallen asleep at some point though, because you distinctly remember waking from Coriolanus tightening his hold on you and muttering some unintelligible. 

You yawn again, carefully turning around to face Coriolanus. 

He’s still asleep. 

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him, study his face - as if you haven’t already memorized every single one of his features. He looks so calm and peaceful when he sleeps, his expression soft and open. 

Without thinking, you reach up with one hand and brush a stray blond curl from his forehead. The motion seems to wake Coriolanus though, because his eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking at you - his blue gaze still a bit disoriented, but you feel caught up in his gaze nonetheless. 

„Hey“, he says, his voice still a bit sleepy, „sleep well?“ 

You quickly withdraw your hand, forcing a smile onto your face. „Well, could’ve been better if you hadn’t snored so loudly“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Coriolanus just scoffs. „I do not snore“, he says, indignant. 

No, you think, but you still kept me awake all night long, just by having your hand splayed across my stomach, your head resting on my shoulder. 

Still, you force yourself to shrug. „Easy for you to say.“ 

Coriolanus just scoffs again. But even though he’s annoyed by your comment, shooting you another indignant look, you can’t help but think that you want to spend every single morning just like this. 

You want to wake up right next to Coriolanus every morning - something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, but something that you still desperately crave nonetheless.  

It becomes a habit, then - Coryo sleeping over at your place.

At first, he only does it after one of your study sessions, once or twice a week. But then, it starts happening more and more often - him sleeping over after a movie night (considering that it took you a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to a movie night, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot, cuddling up to you on your living room couch, resting his head on the crook of your neck, sending your heartbeat haywire) or after an evening of cooking together or after a long evening spent together at the Academy’s library, finishing an assignment for Professor Sickle.

At first, you don’t really think anything of it. 

But then, one Sunday morning you’re going through your clothes (for once, Coryo didn’t sleep over at your place, because he and Tigris promised the Grandm’am an early breakfast before helping her out with her roses) and suddenly,  you realize that there’s a whole stack of Coryo’s clothes in your closet. Dress shirts, plain shirts, pants, even one of his favorite shirts - it’s all here, in your closet. 

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you grab a simple long-sleeved grey shirt from the stack with Coryo’s clothes and put it on. (It’s oversized, the sleeves way too long, but you don’t care, the shirt is so soft and comfortable. And besides - it still smells like Coryo, like roses and powder and something else, something that’s entirely him.) 

After throwing on some simple, comfortable pants as well, you walk over to your bathroom - and startle when you see the box with Coryo’s things on one side of the big, marble sink. A toothbrush, a comb, even a small tube of Tigris’s face cream that he secretly uses - you’re the only one who knows and he’d made you swear not to tell a single living soul that fact. 

You smile at the memory, absentmindedly running a hand through your hair and letting your eyes wander through the bathroom. 

But everywhere you look, you see Coriolanus. Everything seems to somehow remind you of him. 

That towel on the sink, which is lying neatly folded right next to the box with Coryo’s stuff. It’s one of your own towels, nothing special in your opinion - you’ve got lot of other towels and really, a towel is just a towel - but Coryo insists that it’s softer than your other towels and feels better on his skin. 

That old butterfly-shaped hairpin of yours, lying abandoned on the windowsill. You only have to look at it to be taken back to Thursday night when you were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair in front of the great mirror over the sink, when suddenly Coryo walked into your bathroom, your old hairpin in hand. 

„That’s the hairpin you got for your tenth birthday, isn’t it?“, he asked, smiling to himself. 

You nodded. „Yes, I thought about giving it away, maybe gifting it to my little cousin, because I don’t really think that it suits me anymore.“ 

Coryo’s smile seemed to freeze at your words. „Really? I still think it looks great, look“, he said, drawing you closer with one hand whilst reaching up with his other hand to place to pin in your hair. 

„See?“, he said, smiling. 

You laughed, shaking your head. „I mean, yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m not ten anymore, Coryo.“ 

You wanted to put the hairpin away, but Coriolanus insisted on you keeping it just a little longer - maybe you’d change your mind about it. 

You reach for that hairpin now, absentmindedly running your fingers over it. Coriolanus is right, the pin is beautiful, even though it looks a bit worn down after years of usage. 

You decide to keep the pin, then. Not because you think that you’ll wear it again, but as another reminder of Coryo. 

It is in this moment that you realize that your feelings towards your best friend have changed - you no longer view him as just your best friend. 

You no longer want him like a best friend. 

You don’t want to be just his best friend anymore - you want so much more than that. You want - no need - his attention, want his lingering eyes on you, want his warm, comforting touch before falling asleep, want to wake up next to him, want to feel his lips on yours. 

You tighten your grip on the hairpin, until you feel it starting to dig uncomfortably in your skin, but the pain still can’t distract you from your thoughts and the heavy, crushing feeling in your chest. 

Because no matter how much you might want to be more than Coryo’s best friend - to him, you’ll never be anything else. He’ll never see you as anything other than his best friend. 

It somehow becomes both easier and harder to be around Coryo after your realization. 

Easier, because it means that you still get to be around him, get to talk with him, fall asleep with him at your side, ly next to on your bed while he’s motivating you to study. 

Harder, because it means that you still get to be around him - all the time. Looking at him, laughing with him, touching him; fantasizing about him in ways that you definitely shouldn’t think about your best friend. 

His presence is almost like a drug to you; addicting and intoxicating, leaving you craving more of it, even though you know that it’s not good for you - in the end it’ll be your heart that’ll be broken. 

„Something on your mind?“, Coryo’s soft voice draws you out of your thoughts, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles on your back. 

It’s already late evening and you’re lying together in your bed - you wearing one of his shirts, which he noticed with a satisfied smirk earlier, over your nightdress. 

You shake your head, thankful that Coriolanus can’t see your face, seeing as he’s spooning you from behind. „Not really, no … just all these papers we’ll have to hand in during the next two weeks …“ 

„Well, if it’s nothing else …“, Coriolanus says, laughing softly, his warm breath tickling against your skin, but something tells you that he doesn’t quite believe your words. 

„Nope“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant, before freeing yourself from Coriolanus’s grip, taking off his shirt, so that you’re left in only your lacy, red nightdress. 

The distraction works - Coriolanus’s swallows, the expression in his eyes darkening. „Won’t you - uhm, freeze? If you’re only sleeping in that, I mean, it doesn’t look very warm …“, he stutters - actually stutters. 

„Freeze?“, you ask, grinning, „with you right next to me?“ 

Coriolanus just scoffs, rolling his eyes. It’s a discussion you’ve had quite often these last few weeks - with you convinced that his body temperature is too high, and him convinced that yours is running too low. 

Though maybe Coryo does have a point and you always feeling so hot when you’re being embraced by him has more to do with your heartbeat quickening and your palms turning sweaty from being so near to him and less with his body temperature. 

Suddenly, Coriolanus sits up, leaning in towards you, before closing both his arms around you, caging you in his embrace. Both of his hands are splayed possessively over your stomach, though one feels dangerously close to your chest. 

Though - maybe that is just your imagination running wild with you again.  

„Warm enough for you?“, Coriolanus asks, resting his head on the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. 

You laugh, trying not to squirm - you’re insanely ticklish, something Coriolanus very much know. „Yes, Coryo, more than enough …“ 

„Hm …“, he laughs softly. „Can’t have you freezing now, can I?“, he adds, reaching for your blanket and draping it around you both. 

„Hm ...“, you hum, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his chest. You feel so warm and content, being so close to Coryo. It’s so easy to get lost in your imagination like that, to pretend that you can actually have this with him, to pretend that this is not just your best friend messing around with you - to pretend that he feels the same way you do. 

You stay like that for a moment - Coryo holding you in his arms, bodies pressed flush together. 

Then, after a while - you can’t tell whether it’s been only a few minutes or a few hours; time always seems to either stop or pass you by in a blur whenever you’re with Coriolanus - he clears his throat, breaking his embrace. 

„It’s late, we should probably try to get some sleep …“, he says, trying to suppress a yawn. 

You nod, forcing a smile onto your face. „Sure … can’t have your mind in a foggy, exhausted state when you want to make a good impression in Sickle’s class tomorrow morning …“ 

Coriolanus scoffs, laying down on your bed. 

The moment you’ve lain down as well, he scoots closer to you, enclosing you in his arms. Something he does every night when he sleeps over, though your heart still skips a beat at the action. 

This is dangerous, you think. You can’t keep thinking about your best friend like that, can’t keep falling and falling for him- 

„Good night“, Coriolanus says - and then he does something he’s never done before: he leans in closer towards you, pressing a gentle, soft kiss to your hairline. 

Your heartbeat quickens and you can only hope that Coryo won’t be able to pick up on it. 

„Good - good night, Coryo“, you say, your voice shaky, barely being able to get the words out. 

Coriolanus laughs, before resting his head on the crook of your neck again. 

You swallow, trying not to shiver. 

This night, it takes you a long time to fall asleep. 

When you wake up, Coriolanus has wrapped himself around you, caging you in between his arms, one of his hands splayed possessively across your stomach, his other hand dangerously close to the hem of your admittedly quite short night dress. (You may have decided on deliberately wearing this particular lacy red night dress, seeing as it has made Coriolanus look at you with a dark expression in his eyes when he’d seen you wearing it once before.)

His strong, muscled chest is pressed flush against your back - though that’s not the only thing pressed against your back. 

You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize what this means. This has only happened two times before, and both times Coriolanus was quick to embarresedly scoot away from you when he woke up, realizing that his erection had been pressed against your back. 

Now, though, Coriolanus seems to be asleep and in no hurry to move away from you. In fact, he suddenly makes a low muffled noise, his grip on you tightening, his hand at the hem of your night dress moving up even higher until you can feel his fingertips brush over the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

You can’t help the surprised noise that escapes you then - even though all of this should feel so wrong; it doesn’t. 

It doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, you want - no, crave even more of this, of you and Coryo pressed so closely together that not even a single leaf could fit between you, Coriolanus’s hands on you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Coriolanus suddenly says your name, his lips brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver. 

„Cory?“, you ask, trying to turn around, but his grip on you is too tight, keeping you in place. 

Then - your name falling from his lips again, followed by a loud, coarse moan. 

„Yes, right there - fuck, so good, so good“, Coriolanus moans, one hand suddenly finding its way under the skirt of your night dress, his fingers moving up higher and higher on your thighs, coming dangerously close to the hem of your panties-

„Fuck!“ Another loud moan, followed by Coriolanus’s hips moving against yours, his erection pressing against you. 

Oh, you think, cheeks impossibly warm, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound. 

Besides your imagination running wild these last few weeks, one dirty fantasy of you and your best friend chasing the other, this has never happened to you. You thought that it never would happen to you - at least not with Coryo. 

Though he’s only caught up in a dream of his own, you try to remind yourself, when his hips move against yours again. 

It’s only a dream. But why is it your name that he’s moaning then, not any other? But maybe it’s just a coincide-

Every single thought is wiped from your head, when Coriolanus’s fingers brush over your panties, teasing your clit though the thin fabric. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you then - not when this feels so good, Coriolanus’s fingers teasing over your clit, his hips moving against yours, his lips pressed to the skin of your neck, his other hand still splayed across your stomach. 

Coriolanus moans your name again then, his fingers cupping your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, and you find yourself moving your hips against his, driven by pure instinct. 

The low, coarse groan that escapes Coriolanus then has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but his fingers are still there, still teasing over your clit. 

Suddenly, his fingers start to move, drawing teasing circles over your clit, and it’s all too much for you. Overwhelmed by all the different emotions coursing through you, you tear yourself away from his grip, getting up on shaky feet and walking over to the bathroom that’s connected to your bedroom. 

Your head is still spinning when you find yourself leaning against the cold, marble walls of the bathroom, your core still aching, yearning for Coriolanus’s touch. 

You shiver, even though you feel too hot, your skin feeling like it’s been set on fire. Coriolanus touched you. Your best friend’s fingers were almost inside you and- 

Fuck. 

Fuck, you’ll never able to look your best friend in the eyes again, even though all you want is to be as close to him as you were moments ago. 

Acting on pure instinct, you shimmy out of your nightdress, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping inside the shower. Maybe a good, cold shower, will help, you think, turning on the shower. 

You step back, letting the cold water hit your body. But even though the cold water feels like needles prickling against your skin, you still feel as if your entire body was set on fire, your core still aching and empty. 

Almost on their own accord, your fingers find their way to your clit. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to blink back the tears in your eyes that are suddenly threatening to spill. 

Still, you can’t help the low moan that escapes you when your fingers find their way between your folds. 

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back - letting pure instinct take over, as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing that it were Coryo’s fingers filling you up instead. 

When you come, it’s with a desperate, breathless cry and images of Coriolanus pressed against you playing over and over again in your mind.

What you don’t know, though, is that Coriolanus has been awake all this time - every single touch was a deliberate, strategic move on his part and you’d reacted even better than he could have imagined. He followed you to the bathroom when you got up from bed, and now he’s watching you come undone from his position behind the door that you forgot to properly lock in your haste.

He feels like he’s going crazy, crawling out of his skin as he watches you screw your eyes shut, throwing your head back. Your breathless whimpers and moans are all that he can hear, echoing through his mind. 

Wracked with shame, guilt and desire coursing through him, he shoves one hand into his pants, his eyes still fixated on you. 

It only takes a few strokes over his already achingly hard length until he comes undone as well. 

And when he unravels, it is with your breathless moans echoing through his mind, his eyes on you, and your name like a bittersweet, deadly poison that he just can’t get enough of on his lips. 

sooo ...? please, please lmk what you think, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!

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[wanderingxiao]

hiii can you write smut with wanderer having a breeding kink after thinking abt whether or not he could have kids (since hes a puppet)? so later that night he lowkey experiments and he ends up putting the reader into a mating press and turns her into a drooling and dazed mess >>>

thank you sm if u do it ur writing is so hearteyes

Baby Time!

Wanderer x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: Breeding Kink, raw/unprotected sex, slight degradation, Wanderer being super horny, 18+ only please!! MDNI!! 💙

A/N: My first request!!! :0 Hopefully I completed your request correctly! I had literally so much fun writing this! He can fuck a baby into me anytime he wants 😳💙 Hope you enjoy!

Wanderer couldn’t seem to get away from it. There were children everywhere in the streets of Sumeru city. Summer seemed to be the time where all the little reckless brats loved to get into trouble, run off, explore, or just be annoying. It bothered Wanderer in a way, constantly having to look out for frail humans that get in his path or help a child find their parent they decided to run away from.

Despite the annoying ones, he found the quieter more behaved children tolerable. Seeing a husband and wife raise a small human was oddly… arousing to him. It flustered him to no end how unbearably horny he would get just seeing a family walk by or a pregnant woman, his thoughts immediately imagining you swollen and pregnant with his child, or how caring and loving you’d be as a parent. One thing bothered him though…

Could he even have kids being a puppet?

By spending lots of time in the… not so work friendly part of the Akademiya, he began to look up ways in which he could potentially get you pregnant. It was there his undying hunger to fill you full of his sticky cum, see your stomach swollen with his offspring, and squeeze your sensitive lactating breasts began. Scholars would give him judgmental looks, but he didn’t care, as long as the book he was reading guarded his painful throbbing erection.

When the time came to see you once more, he took out all his frustrating uncertainties and sexual fantasies on you. You were sprawled out on his bed within the Sanctuary of Surasthana, legs spread wide with his sticky cock battering away at your fluttering cunt. His face was flushed with his eyes reflecting his overwhelming desire to fuck you so full of his cum your belly would be swollen with how much of his seed he would stuff into you.

“W-Wander- Ahh! Wanderer! M-Mngh! I-It’s t-too deep -ngh! Too deep!” Your pitiful cries fell deaf upon his mechanical ears as he smacked his hips aggressively into yours, determined to reach your deepest crevices. A grunt rumbled through his chest, his breath raspy and quickened feeling your walls begin to flutter around his cock so perfectly. It’s like you were made specifically for him, or he was made for you.

“Not yet. Ngh~ need to fuck you full. S-So full of my seed you -hah- bear my offspring.” His hands roughly grabbed the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest before he leaned over your body to tower over you. Your thighs ached in dull pain at the uncomfortable position, and your body jolted with overstimulating pleasure as his sticky cock head covered in his pre-cum bumped against your cervix.

“W-Wanderer!!! Hah-! Ahh! T-Too much! Too- Ahh!! Too good! P-Plea- Hngh!” This was absolutely perfect. Your lips were slicked up with your saliva, drool covering your cheek as you couldn’t help but cry and drool for him. Your hair was beginning to get messy as he fucked you up and down the bed, your body sloppily sliding to match his brutal rhythm.

“Yeah? You f-fucking slut, you like that? Hah, being folded into a mating press by me? Ngh~ Fucking pathetic!” Wanderer groaned above you, his cheeks flushed with his forehead lined with sweat. He was determined to get you pregnant, going so far as to put you into a mating press to drive his seed as deep as he could.

You couldn’t even respond to him, your mind turning to mush the second he began to buck his hips faster, abusing your poor cunt with his throbbing cock. Your eyes were glazed over with overwhelming love and adoration for him, your chin now covered in your drool and maybe even some of his. The tight coil and warmth building in your abdomen alerted you of your quickly approaching orgasm. Wanderer could tell it too, the way your walls would spasm and tighten around him.

“You g-gonna cum? Yeah? Cum from me f-fucking you dumb?” You could only nod in response, throwing your head back into the pillows as the wet sounds of your slick cunt and his oozing cock collided over and over and over again. His forehead pressed against yours, his moans increasing as his cock twitched against your walls, feeling his own climax building up. He used his feet to push himself more above you, forcing you into a deeper mating press with his cock plunging down into your drooly pussy.

You couldn’t take it anymore, your toes curled with your legs trembling in his grasp. Your walls tightened around him, clit pulsating wildly as his pelvis smacked it with each thrust. With a loud and messy cry of his name, you gushed all over him, a creamy white ring beginning to form around the base of his cock. Despite your intense orgasm he didn’t stop, only heightening his pace to chase his own release.

“F-Fuck I’m cumming-! Ngh- shit!” Wanderer smacked his hips down into yours sloppily and spurted his thick cum against your cervix. His cock twitched feverishly, his breathing becoming more uneven and ragged as he rode out his high. His deep raspy moans died down to low whines as he fucked his cum sloppily back into you to, adoring how you practically milked him dry. He loved the way your body twitched with overstimulation, a high-pitched yet quiet moan spewing from your lips as his cum filled your insides. Wanderer only grinned, his cock twitching back to life as a new wave of arousal and lust pooled within his chest.

“Don’t give out on me now, slut… I still need to fill you up more. That way… you’ll surely bear my offspring. Hehe.”

Hope you enjoyed~! ; ) 💙

[jlheon]

𝓕𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ୨୧ 𝐍𝐑𝐊

(𝓹airing) ── nrk x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓮stablished relationship ; fluff (𝔀ordcount) five-hundred 𝓹eng's note. america core for my bf 🦅 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. spending the fourth of july with your boyfriend at the beach

you walk beside your boyfriend from the parking lot to the beach.

clad in his one of his hoodies due to the breeze and coolness being near the ocean gives off. your hair blowing in the wind slightly at riki grabs your hand.

the soft sand touching your feet as you maneuver through the crowds of families in the sand. sprawled out on mats, picnic blankets, towels, and beach chairs.

“i don’t think we’ll find a spot here,” riki squeezed your hand, “we can watch from the car.”

“no! i have a spot for us,” you dismissed him, “just follow me!”

you drag riki along amongst the crowd for a bit when you finally step feet off the sand and onto a grassier area. he quickly hands you your sandals and slides on his before continuing on your path.

walking uphill until you get to the top of the hill where there’s a couple of beach chairs and benches. the only two people there being you and riki as everyone else opted to watch the show from the sand.

you tug on your boyfriend’s hand a little harder as you climb to sit on the ledge of the stone wall looking down on the ocean and the beach. not to high up but enough to make you feel like you and riki were the only people on earth.

“look,” you tap riki’s shoulder, “they’re staring!”

as the noises register in his brain, he looks up at the sky over the ocean. sparking shots of red, white, blue, and other colors illuminating the sky.

though his vision quickly shifts to the girl next to him. the colors from the fireworks shining against your face that is grinning softly mixed with subtle light from the moonlight.

riki thinks he’s never seen anyone prettier.

your eyes brightening not just from the sky but the pure joy your body emits from sharing such an intimate moment with your boyfriend.

your lips curled into a soft smile as you gaze into the chilly summer night.

riki thinks how could there have ever been a time where he wasn’t in love with you.

in love with you.

riki finally feels that it’s the right time to utter the three words he has spent weeks stuck on.

was it too early in your relationship? did your other partners wait or say it immediately? did you love him back?

“ki, you’re not looking at the fireworks,” you interrupt his whirlwind of thoughts, your head tilted to the side in confusion.

“i love you,” riki returns your stare with an expression full of love.

you take a minute before responding, “i love you too,” flustered face turning to look back at the sky, hoping it masks the growing heat on your cheeks.

he smiles to himself at your cute actions and scoots closer. to when your legs are lightly pressed against the other’s and wraps an arm around your shoulders. bringing you closer to him and guiding your head to rest on his shoulder.

“i love you,” riki repeats again with a proud grin on his face as a fireworks goes off simultaneously.