#but I got it done and it turned out so much nicer than I anticipated lmao I was NOT feeling hop's side until I darkened the bg

[b4kuch1n]

and the storm he was driving/washed it away/in the eye there was a silence

[haraways]

Big Bad Wolf

This is for the prompt Wolf from @jonsaprompts its later then I anticipated but I’ve been tired after work. I truly don't think this was what was in mind when the prompt was issued. Also it turned out longer then expected as well.

Pure fluff with some trauma sprinkled in there for spice.

Happy Halloween!

It was ruined.

She'd worked so hard on it too. After school and her homework was done, she'd hid in her room, working away at it, not wanting her family's constant input and teasing. This was going to be her last Samhain, where she could go trick or treating without adults getting all weird about it. (One adult last year made her cry because she was already taller than her peers. Arya took great offence to this and kicked the middle-aged man in the shin before telling them all to run.)

But now her hard work was ruined.

"I'm so sorry, Sansa," Rickon's little voice wobbled as he covered his mouth with both hands and made a beeline for the washroom. An afternoon of eating chocolate non-stop had upset the little boy's stomach and brought it back up all over Sansa's sparkly white princess dress.

Sansa did her best to repress the urge to cry as her bottom lip trembled and tears threatened to fall.

It was ruined, and there was nothing to be done. She didn't have a backup, and none of her old costumes fit anymore. She had the little red riding hood costume from the play last year, but the hood was the only thing that still might fit.

Sansa ignored her mother calling after her as she raced up the stairs to go hide in her room. On the first landing, she collided with another person. 

"Careful." her brother's friend Jon said. She had forgotten Robbs' friends were over playing D&D, of all things. They did it every Saturday, and Samhain was no exception. Most boys their age would have been at one of those awkward teen parties, but according to Robb, Jon, Sam, Theon and Edd, they were "boring, and it's only delinquents who go to those." They were such nerds; when Sansa finally got to high school the following year, she was NOT hanging out with them. 

Jon garbed her arm gently to prevent her from tumbling down the stair. Jon had always been a gentle boy. He roughed it with the best of them most days, but sometimes he would be sullen and quiet, needing to remove himself from others and just sit for a while. Sansa had seen him more than once disappear into the backwood with that great big dog of his only to come back hours later. For this reason, Sansa didn't like Jon all too much growing up but her attitude changed toward him quickly this past year when Ramsey Bolton decided to grab her in a nasty way. It was Jon who defended her; he let out a furious cry as his fist met with Ramsey's face repeatedly. It was how Jon became the Wolf in the school's fairytale play instead of Ramsey, whose face was too messed up to do much performing.

Sansa knew it would have been an even worse fight if they had been adults. And if they were adults, Sansa knew the Ramsey might have tried to do more than cup-a-feel.  

Jon had cried after, along with Sansa. Regretting letting his anger become too hot. It was something he had been working on for years. A trauma response, he explained, using an explanation that sounds a lot like how an adult would explain something. After that, Sansa went out of her way to be nicer to Jon, pleasing both Robb and Arya with her efforts. 

So it was not completely unordinary for Jon's face to shift from bewilderment to alarm at the tear-stricken face of Sansa.  

"What happened?" He asked, eyes wide as he took in the chocolate vomit that covered the front of the dress.

Sansa's chin wobbled again as embarrassment made her face and ears hot. The perpetual fear of being laughed at gnawed at her for only a moment when she remembered that this was Jon.

"It's spoiled." She sniffed.

"Oh." He said a little dumbly. They stood there awkwardly as Sansa sniffled, and Jon didn't know how to comfort a girl. The gross scent of vomit and chocolate became stronger as it dried.

"I'm going to go shower," Sansa muttered, wanting to run away before her night got any worse. Jon nodded and finally let go of her arm. His fingers flexed at his side awkwardly as he seemed to realize just how long he had been holding her, despite the danger of falling having passed.

"Is there anything you need?" Jon asked earnestly.

"Not unless you can pull a costume out of thin air." Her jaw began to ache, and her throat had a lump as she made her way up the stairs, not bothering to hear Jon's answer. She just wanted to be alone now and wallow in a bit of self-pity.

The sparkly makeup washed away, and the smell of vomit was replaced with Fresh Dornish Citrus™️ . Sansa felt better.

She felt better but was still a little sad that her last Trick or Treating opportunity had passed her by. She couldn't bring her siblings out as a chaperone either. Rickon was obviously staying home, and Arya and Bran had left with their friends already.

After changing into one of her comfy nightdresses, the one that reminded her of a grandmother with thick fills around the arms and neck and was meant for cold northern nights. Sansa flopped onto the bed with the intent to wallow.

Sansa must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, there was a knock on her door. 

"Sansa?" the voice called.

She let out a hum of acknowledgement before she felt like drifting back to sleep, but the knocking persisted. 

"Sansa?" the voice called again, it was Jon's voice, and Sansa popped up from the bed quickly, wiping her cheek from the small amount of droll that had gathered on her cheek. She got up from the bed and pulled the door open.

"Here." A piece of fabric was thrust at her, along with fur-cuffed gloves that had little claws at the end. She recognized these. it was the sleeping cap with ears on it and the gloves that matched from the play last year. The ones she made for Jon after he got the Big Bad Wolf role. She'd been so proud because it only took her one try to get it right. 

She hadn't known he kept these. Why would he still have them? 

She looked up at the red-faced Jon, who was huffing and putting from sprinting down the road and back again. 

"What?" she tried to ask, truly confused. 

"You're in your night dress already," he said, a grin growing on his face. "Do you still have the red hood?" he asked.

"Yes?" she answered, sounding like a question. It would have been cute to dress Rickon in the hood and have her be the Wolf, but he was not going out anymore. 

"I'll go with you; there's still plenty of time." He went to step into her room, but his face turned redder before thinking better of it. 

"I'll be downstairs." And with that, Jon abruptly turned and set off. 

Sansa stood in the doorway for only a moment before a warm bobbly sensation began growing in her chest. Jon was going with her! Her Samhain wasn't over yet! Despite her happiness, that nagging self-doubt voice grew as she remembered that he was here to play D&D with his friends, not to take her trick or treating; she would just have to go on her own. She shoved the hat with ears on her head and slid the too-big gloves on. She would give Jon the out when she got downstairs because that sweet boy didn't have to go out of his way for her. She found the hood hanging in her closet where her mother had placed it. She would take it to him just in case, though. Treasure found she headed downstairs. 

There was a lot of chatter coming from the living room as she turned the corner as was surprised to see all of Robb's friends waiting for her; in costumes! All the boys (except Jon) had either cape or chainmail, with swords or staffs as accessories. Edd even had a whole braided, blond wig on with a stuffed dragon. 

Sansa stared in bewilderment.

"Oh good, you found the cape." Jon walked over and took the hanger from her hands. She was too stunned to offer up a way out to Jon. Jon handed the hanger back as he flung the cape over his shoulders like he's been doing it his whole life. 

"I don't understand," Sansa muttered. 

"Of, this is how we always play D&D," Jon said, shrugging. "It's Samhain, so it's a special D&D night." 

"Yeah!" Edd called, "We're to escort a Druid girl who got cursed as a halfway transformed wolf and help her collect the items she needs to break her curse." 

Sam nodded proudly; he obviously came up with this side quest for the adventures. Robb walked over, placed his hand on Jon's shoulder, and smiled too wickedly for a Paladin.

"and Jon here, as the Ranger, is the only one who can understand you fully; lost as you are between animal and person." 

Jon shot Robb a look Sansa didn't have time to understand, and her brain was catching up to the excitement. She wanted to say a million things, thank them, question them, and accuse them of making fun of her, but only one thing came to mind. Sansa turned to Robb, who was now suggestively wigging his bows at Jon? 

"Is this why you had me make the cloak?" she gasped out, "I thought it was because you were getting up to the wired things with your girlfriend." 

The boys roared with laughter as Robbs' face grew to a red as bright as his hair. They started fileing out of the house, happy to be trick or treating and joshing Robb as boys often did. 

Sansa felt a hand take hers, and she looked up at the gently smiling face of Jon, nearly hidden by the red hood.

"Let's go trick or treating." He muttered, pulling her slightly towards the door. She looked down to where their hand were clasped, strong enough to pull her slightly but loose enough that she could pull away if she wished. A big smile broke across her face, her cheeks turned pink to match Jon's own, and she nodded.

"Okay."

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 16*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Let’s give it up for round 2!! Enjoy! >:3c

Author’s Note: Pls do not judge for the corny Legend of Zelda alternatives weunfjksdmcx. SVE continuity, and whatever

Speaking of which, y'all finally get to meet Victor! A wonderful bachelor from the SVE mod, imo.

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

“Nice to finally meet you.” The average-height (big day for short people!), Gotoroan stranger smiles warmly, reaching to shake my hand. 

“Finally?” I take his hand in mine, but rather than looking at him I turn to Seb and grin. A big, goofy, punchable grin.

He rolls his eyes. “I might’ve mentioned you once or twice.”

“All good things,” Victor reassures. 

I look back at him with a playful glare in my eyes. I don’t know him well enough to be an ass yet, but it’s tempting to challenge him. Interrogate him, even.

As we walk back down the hill from the train station, I’m sandwiched between the two men, but keep closer to Seb for comfort. I’d hoped he fucked the nerves out of me, but nope! They’re still there! Still just as bad with strangers as always.

While they catch up with each other, I take in the pretty surroundings, my eyes lingering on Linus. He’s sat by a small campfire outside of his tent, munching on a fish that he must’ve caught and baked over the open flame himself. 

I’ve been meaning to try and talk to him, as he seems nicer than the townsfolk make him out to be, but never have the courage or the time to follow through. Maybe if I can get him alone sometime — the less people around, the better, when it comes to my social abilities — I’ll have the guts to strike up a conversation. That’s an endeavor for another day.

When we arrive back to the basement, I shuffle through my bag for the character sheets I brought along. Thankfully, they didn’t get crumpled when I abandoned them for… a more noble cause.

“What class do you want?” Seb me asks from across the room, unfolding the playing mat.

“Whatever’s available, I ain’t picky. I just can’t DM.” 

“I’ve got that covered,” Victor adds. 

“You usually go warrior, yeah?” Seb asks him. I’m assuming he answered with a nod, because I don’t hear a verbal follow up. “That leaves us with wizard and healer.”

“Fine, dibs on healer then.”

I don’t bother bringing the other sheets to the table, wanting to save as much judgment as possible. I skulk over, holding the paper against me like a fucking gremlin bracing onto its treasure. I’m a little worried about this, and not just because my design is corny — think: magical girl, but with a cloak on — but rather because I’ve never done a campaign in-person before. Usually they’ve been with randos on the internet. No pressure to perform with people I’ll never meet.

Victor had a figure made of his character apparently, which I enviously eyeball while Seb flips through a lined notebook for his own. I know this guy is rich but I can’t help but imagine that lil’ model costing a fortune if he commissioned it. Or maybe he made it himself?

A quiet lil “ah” sounds from across the table as Seb settles on the page he wants. Maybe it was dumb to feel embarrassed about my own OC. He just has a… collage, we’ll call it, of a generic anime guy wearing various wizard-y garments, pointy hat and all. A real Hogwarts!AU Ravenclaw!Sasuke looking motherfucker. It is truly so poorly photoshopped, and appears to be taped into place next to the (surprisingly) neatly-written stats.

I stifle a laugh, which only goes noticed by Seb, who sneers at me beneath his hair. Modern!AU Sasuke looking motherfucker…

“Ready?”

Seb and I look to the source and nod, and Victor dives right into our plot, scattering some small plastic props across the board to set the scene.

The game lasts a short few hours, and goes a lot more smoothly than I’d anticipated. Once I got into the swing of things, and rolled a few lucky 20s, I felt more comfortable with myself and my character. The three of us absolutely crushed it, too. 

Victor and Seb were both downed during our final boss, and because of a pretty mediocre roll, I was only able to resurrect one. I asked them to roll for the opportunity, not really knowing who the better option of the two was – leaving up to fate, if you will. Much to Victor’s chagrin, Seb rolled higher. We won even without Victor, though, and with a good rating. 

It helped that the story was influenced heavily by a mish-mosh of The Legend of Lonk plot lines. Made things easier for me to follow, and helped me know what to expect from the mobs that weren’t canon to Solarian Chronicles. I noticed it during our game, but kept quiet, not wanting to mess with the flow. Victor admitted he took some creative inspiration after we wrapped up. 

“Fucking nerd,” Seb muses. 

“They’re good games!” 

“No, yeah, I agree,” I nod in Victor’s defense. “Lonk is a fucking masterpiece of a series.”

Seb groans while Victor excitedly asks, “Oh, you play too?!” I nod. “Which game is your favorite?” Yeees, ask me more about my hyperfixations! 

“Air of the Wild, for sure.”

“That one’s so good, maybe second or third in my books. I’m personally more into Skyward Spear myself.”

“God damnit,” Seb mumbles to himself. Victor and I both ignore him.

“Did you hear they’re remaking it?” 

Victor beams. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah! It might push Air of the Wild 2 back a year or, like, three , which sucks, but it should be out by Winter Star. At least, that’s what I’ve read.” 

“Are they only improving the graphics, though? Or is it a full, mechanics-based remaster?”

“I dunno, I think they’re just —“ 

“I’m gonna order some food,” Seb quietly declares, opening up a delivery app on his phone. He saunters across the room to his bong and starts, I dunno, setting it up? I’ve never Done The Weed, I have no idea what he’s doing with that thing.

“You’re not going to offer us anything?” Victor pouts.

“Oh, now you want to pay attention to me?”

I laugh, “Are you grumpy that we’re bonding without you?”

He sits back in his stool and glares at me while taking a hit. “‘Course not.”

“Fucking tsundere.”

Victor starts making grabby hands at the bong, and Sebastian reluctantly passes it over. Coughing through his words after a long rip, he asks, “Wanna get that greasy stuff you Ferngillians try to pass off as Gotoroan food?”

Seb shrugs, crinkling his nose slightly. “I was feeling pizza.”

They both turn to me, expecting me to make the decision. “Fuck. Uhh. Gotoroan sounds good.” I give Seb an apologetic shrug. 

_______

Victor fell asleep on the couch promptly after downing a full carton of fried rice, because munchies I guess? I dunno. I was having fun getting to know him, but semi-private time with Seb is nice. Super welcomed, honestly. My social battery was starting to feel drained, and Sebastian knows how to charge that shit right back up somehow.

We’re leaning on each other on his bed, with our backs against the wall, and watching those stupid, quick recipe/craft videos. You know, like on Buzzfeed and whatever. Stuffing the last piece of the communal veggie tempura roll into my mouth, I can’t help but choke on a little giggle, directed at how much Seb has been giggling. This man is delightful when he’s high. 

“It’s funny because it’s stupid!” he strongly defends.

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

“You thought about it.” 

He’s right. “You know you would fully hate this if you were sober,” I point out.

“‘You know you would fully hate this if you were sober.’” So high-pitched… Yoba, do I really sound that annoying to him?

“Mock me all you want, you know it’s true!”

He scoffs, “Fuck yourself.”

“I’d rather you do it for me,” I quip back half-jokingly.

He doesn’t respond for a few long seconds, seemingly zoning out on my screen as he tries to buffer what I said. Seb finally finds my eyes and sweet mother of god he looks like he wants to ravage me. 

“You wanna?” he offers, his voice quiet and husky.  

Tempting, but—

“Bro, Victor’s right there, why the fuck would I wanna?”

“Bro, the bathroom is right there,” he suggests, gesturing towards the door to our left. 

A fair point. I can’t tear my eyes from his stare, god he’s so fucking hot. My horny goblin brain is urging me to accept, but I dunno, it would be a little weird with someone right beside us… only separated by a few-seconds walk to the door… would it?

As if he saw the gears turning in my head, Seb decides for me. He scoops me up over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and carries me into the washroom. 

“Is this necessary?” I grumble into his shoulder blade. I could’ve walked myself in here but I can’t even be mad.

After taking care to shut and lock the door quietly, he settles me down, placing a towel on the counter for cushioning purposes before pushing my back against it. I can feel the slight flush of being upside down for a little bit removing itself from my face. 

Well, that, and I’m probably just rosy from being, like… tossed around.

“Yes,” he softly asserts. “Unless you don’t like being handled like that.” 

“I don’t not like it,” I confess.

The corner of his mouth curls up at my reply, and he takes my cheeks between his hands, kissing my forehead. Aww. 

I get on my tippy toes, and right before I can reach my lips up to his, he flips me around and leans over my form, forcing me to bend over the sink, just inches from my reflection. I shoulda known better than to trust so easily. His hands are firmly on top of mine, as if he’s worried I’ll leave. He probably doesn’t realize I wouldn’t give this up for anything.

With my ass pressed to Seb’s groin, I can feel how stiff he is. I tantalizingly sway my hips a little, eyeing him through the mirror. He sucks in his lower lip and fights back, his grip on my hands tightening as he lightly thrusts onto the back of my skirt, hiking it up a little in the process. Shit. Well played, nerd. I fight back, pressing my booty towards him just a little. 

He puts more weight on me, winding the breath from my lungs a little. But it’s fine, because he’s using the closer contact to nibble my neck, and holy shit this is making me feel tingly. His bluntly pointed canines piercing into my skin, just enough to not draw blood, send goosebumps across my body. 

Hm, I kind of wish there was blood…?

Fuck it, vampire kink. 

“S’that all you’ve got, emo boy?” I heckle.

The reflection of his dark eyes stab mine while I fiendishly grin at him. Without saying a word, he lowers his face back down. 

After gently licking and kissing the area, he bites again, in the same spot, hard. No blood, but I still wince, like, in a good way. A weird half-gasp, half-moan comes out at the feeling. I repeat the noise as he leans back, takes a fistful of my hair, and tugs it towards him like reins. While this is going on he cups his hand over my mouth. 

“Careful, (y/l/n),” he growls into my ear, “Unless you want Vic to hear you…”

I shake my head “no”, knowing damn well I look like a wreck. I love foreplay, but good lord I just want him to fuck me up already.

“If I move my hand, can you stay quiet for me?”

I nod again, pleading with my eyes. 

Seb slowly lifts his palm from my mouth as if he’s diffusing a bomb, claiming his other hand back as well. He begins removing his jeans — a sound I'm now happily familiar with — followed by his boxers. I reach back, desperate to feel him, but he bats my hand away. Lame . 

I turn away from his reflection to look at him directly, glaring as I shimmy my skirt off. Glowering back down at me with somewhat of a carnal look in his bloodshot eyes, he spits into his hand – I’m assuming it’s for lubricative purposes. 

I accidentally let out a blissful hum just because of how lewd that looked, and face forward again, but not before receiving a hard slap to my ass. He shoots me a wink too. Cheeky bastard. I bite my lip to hold back another noise and push my underwear to the side. I’m way too eager for him to be inside me. 

Seb smacks my ass again, catching me off guard and forcing out an airy, almost squeaky moan. I probably have fucking hearts in my eyes at this point, I think to myself, gazing up to his reflection. If this is my punishment, keep it coming, baby. 

“Off completely.” 

Staying bent over the counter, I slink the fabric down my hips, letting them fall once they’re past my mid-thigh. The moment they had gotten beneath my ass, Seb firmly groped my left cheek with his respective hand, stroking himself in preparation with his right.

He teases my entrance — pushing his head in enough for me to shiver with pleasure, but retracting it rather than going deeper.

Seb does this a few times, coating me with enough impatience, frustration, and primal need that I didn’t notice myself digging my nails into my palms. I see Seb lock onto the crescents on my skin, and he directs both of my arms behind my back.

Folding my forearms over one another, he locks his hands into mine. This is almost romantic.

“Just squeeze my hands,” he offers into my ear. “Don’t hurt yourself, darling.”

I tilt my head to face him, sneaking a kiss before mumbling a dreamy “Okay.”

Ok, fuck, it is romantic. 

Lost in thought and not entirely noticing that his cock was still up against my entrance, he takes me by surprise when he slips in. No hands needed, huh? Am I that wet?

“That wet for me?” he grins, more than satisfied with himself. Fucking telepath.

“Shut up,” I whimper, my grip on his hands tightening.

He slams into me, a loud smack filling the room. I gasp, do my fucking best to keep quiet by promptly sucking in my lips.

“Make me.” He punctuates his demand with another smack of his hips against my backside. I never thought it would be so hard to not make sex noises. 

“Oh, whoops,” he evilly chuckles, “Guess you can’t.” He wiggles my hands around behind me in the same way people make small animals “dance” by moving their lil’ baby paws around.

I defiantly shove myself back, knowing it won’t shut him up, but that it’ll definitely convey the message I’m trying to send: You’re a dick.

Seb lets go of one of my hands, takes both of my wrists in one of his fists, and he pulls, arching my back to meet his chest again. He firmly wraps his fingers around my throat — as he puts pressure onto those convenient arteries that’ll make me see stars, he tugs my face back far enough for me to see his.

A strangled moan escapes me as he starts moving again, still slowly, but with more precision and depth this time around. I try to kiss him, but the hand on my neck is firmly keeping me in place. His eyes are boring into mine like moths drawn to a flame, and he’s smiling madly. For fuck’s sake, the control he has over me is turning me on so much.

“Seb, please, I need more,” I struggle to plead out, blatantly due to his grip on me. “Fuck me.”  

“Hmm, should I?” he sadistically wonders aloud. He speeds up just a little, and I can’t help the noises that escape me. “You might have to try harder than that.”

“Mmn, please, dude.”

He takes his hand off of my throat to brush away tears that I didn’t realize were rolling out of my eyes.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he notes, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. There isn’t even a tiny smidge of real pity in his voice. It’s purely for his entertainment. Curling his fingers around my chin, he keeps torturing me. “But… ‘please’? That’s all you’ve got?”

Yearning for comfort, I bury my face into his neck to absorb the sound of my fucking agony while I let out a groan and hope he gives me what I want. Preferably soon.

“Sebastian, please,” I beg. “Just blow my back out, fucker,” I add on, the words coming out as a stupid, whiney, frustrated moan more than a command. 

Seb looks satisfied – proud of me, even – as he stops thrusting. 

He grins and tugs me by the chin to finally give the sloppy, passionate kiss I was yearning for when I was first pulled back like this, and then pushes my face down towards the towel. Before I know it, he’s annihilating my cunt. His hand’s on the back of my neck and holding me firmly in place. I’m totally at his will. There’s no way on god’s green earth that I’m going to be able to keep my mouth shut. 

I yoink one of my hands free so I can ball up some of the towel in front of me. I need to use it to muffle the yelps that are escaping my throat.

“Holy fucking shit, Sebastian~,” I yell into the towel.

“You want me to be this rough, babe?” I can’t tell if he’s talking dirty, or if the question is genuine. I can’t see enough of his face to determine it, either — the tears that were once trickling down from desperation are now replaced by those of pleasure. 

I lean up enough so he can hear me clearly, and lay my cheek on the towel that’s now damp from my saliva. Gross.

“ Yes, oh my god yes.”

“You want more?” 

I nod, desperately. “Please~”

Seb laughs sadistically, “‘Course you do… such a perfect little slut.” The insult, or term of endearment, or whatever the fuck that was supposed to be sends a chill across my skin. My boyfriend speeds up in the meantime, not sacrificing force by any means. “Shit, you feel incredible.”

Oh my god. With a death-grip on the towel, I break the other hand free from Seb’s clutch. Urgently needing to feel more, I snake my hand down to my clit. It’s not that Sebastian isn’t enough, but more that I’m feeling so much at once. This feels like the final piece to the puzzle, or whatever .

“Seb, harder.”

Moaning lowly, he firmly digs his hands into my sides, his hips moving more erratically with time. My head feels foggy with bliss, but I match my hand and my own hips to his pace the best I can. 

Completely overwhelmed, my body doesn’t even give me a fair warning before I cum. 

“Oh shit,” I laugh, sounding absolutely insane from the overstimulation. High off of it, even. “Holy fucking shit, I’m cumming Sebby~” I didn’t mean to call him that. But I think it flew right over his head anyway. 

Seb leans over, his tall frame towering over mine, leaning his face into my hair. He mutters onto my scalp, peppering it with kisses here and there. “So good, love, you’re doing so fucking good .”

I use both hands to lean up from my folded position, to help give him some more leverage, and our eyes meet through the mirror as we moan together. My arms and legs are shaking. It’s taking every muscle in my body to stay on my feet.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” I whisper with each swift thrust. I don’t even know what the fuck it is I’m begging for, but Seb seems to.

He wraps around my torso, sneaks under my shirt, and grips the everliving shit out of my boob. A stress ball, of sorts. Seb then reaches his other hand around, effectively locking me in place, and strums my clit for me. I welcome the overstimulation with a heady mewl, making my partner smile down at my reflection.

Placing one small hand atop the larger one covering my tit, I wrap my other arm behind myself to pull him down, mumbling frantic curses into his mouth while I attempt to kiss his stupid perfect lips. Our sweaty foreheads are plastered to each other as he wrings another orgasm out of me in record time. 

“Fuck,” I practically weep, “You’re so goddamn good oh my fucking god!” 

He laughs, his voice lilting with pleasure. “Thaaat’s it baby, cum all over my cock.” Holy shit . “You feel so perfect, cumming around me with that tight little pussy of yours.” Holy shit holy fucking shit he is so hot.

Just when I’m starting to feel weak and eased from my comedown, Seb asks, “Fuck, where do you want me?”

What a gentleman, waiting for me to cum for the upteenth time today before doing so only his second. I owe him.

“Inside me,” I basically plead, hazy stars coating my vision while he continues stuffing me. “Please, I’m on the pill, please just don’t fucking stop.” I might snap again holy shit, is this guy actually a fucking wizard? I’ve never even managed to get myself off this many times in one session.

His dazed eyes scan mine, “You sure?” 

I nod, “Please, I need your cum Seb.” A bit dramatic, but it feels like the truth at this moment. 

He dips down to kiss me but winds up moaning, loudly , right into my mouth instead. He lets out a delicious, breathy laugh, and groans, “Fuck, I love you so much holy shit.” WHAT? “Mmmfuck~”

Shocked and full of butterflies, an unfortunate squeak makes its way past my lips — and we were doing so well today! A fog seizes my vision, while the combination of his confession and his throbbing length in me send me to the moon and back. This is some sort of fairytale shit. 

Our heavy breaths echo throughout the room as he pulses through both our orgasms. I fumble my back onto the sink for support afterwards, quickly wiping myself down before shakily pulling my skirt and panties back up. 

My eyes are glued to Sebastian’s, mesmerized. Inspecting him, I’m trying to decipher if he meant what he’d said, or if it was just his horny gremlin brain talking. 

He’s normally so… cool. Sweetest guy ever, but still your typical edgelord bad boy. Definitely doesn’t read as the type who would spill his deepest feelings while fucking someone’s brains out. 

He stares back, not much of an expression other than wide eyes on his face. “Fuck.”

“Sebastian,” I sing, raising a brow. Yoba, I can’t stop smiling.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like that, I just got lost in the moment, it just like—,” he grunts, leaning his arms over the counter, placing his head atop mine. Locking me in yet again. He shouts “Fuck!” into my hair.

“Seb…” 

He backs up, hands on his face as he paces in what little space we have here. Before turning towards me again, he pulls his pants up. Thank god . It was getting hard not to let out an inappropriate giggle at a man free-balling a nervous breakdown. 

“I’m so sorry (y/n) that was so stupid. That is not how I wanted to—“ 

“Sebastian.” I walk up to him and take his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look down at me. “Did you mean it?”

He takes a minute, scanning my face, and eventually nods apprehensively. “Yeah,” he whispers.

[min-yumniverse]

Stroke My Whiskers One Last Time (2)

This story contains: fluff, food, nudity, death.

“This is the Theatre, where shows are performed. Plays and such, you know,” the girl explained to the prince. She pointed to the big wooden and straw theatre. The maroon curtains sway to the light breeze. She had been walking around with him for hours. They were stopped a few times by citizens noticing the prince, giving him formal invitations for events.

The Prince, never before seen outside of The Castle or large formal events. Most people had only seen portraits of him, which in no way did his looks justice. But they were enough to be able to identify him. He was way nicer than anyone would have anticipated. He was always described as quiet and cold. But it wasn’t even slightly true. He was very friendly, especially to (Y/N).

They stopped their journey around the kingdom to eat lunch in a deli near the theatre. “I can pay,” the prince insisted.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll pay,” the girl cut in front of the prince with her coin purse. “Here you are~!” She pulled out her money and handed it to the lady. They went to one of the polished oak wood tables outside the deli. There was a mustard sun umbrella providing shade to the table.

“I could have paid… it’s the least I could have done,” the prince said in a pout to the girl. He felt bad for letting her pay, especially since he was the more wealthy of the two… And the man.

“No, I should be the one to treat you, Your Highness.” (Y/n) flashed a smile at him, he avoided her eye contact and looked away.

“Just call me Yoongi,” he whispered, inaudibly. His face was still turned away from the girl, and she couldn’t hear him.

“Pardon me, Your Highness; I didn’t hear you.” She leaned closer to The Prince.

“It was nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck while turning back to face the girl. Her lips formed an ‘oh’ shape as she backed away. The Prince looked down, realising he may have just turned her off. “I never got your name,” The Prince said to (Y/n). Her face lit up from its previously gloomy state.

“Ah- I- Um… It’s (Y/n),” She replied, looking around the scenery. Before he could say more, a lady came to their table with their lunch. (Y/N) was given her mutton, broccoli and mashed potatoes, steaming with graving oozing off of everything. The Prince had his lamb chops with the same sides as (Y/n). "Wow, it looks delicious!" She grabbed her fork and knife and started cutting open the juicy meat, letting it cool off before eating.

After a while, she noticed how The Prince didn't touch his food. He was sitting there, staring at her. "Do you not like it, Your Highness?" She asked him. He blinked a few times as if he was snapped out of a spell.

"Oh, I got distracted. It's just fine," he replied, shaking his head. He lifted his utensils off of the napkins placed on the table. His hands shook as if he were in the middle of a blizzard with no coat on. His clammy hands caused the fork to drop out of his hands and fall onto the floor.

"I wouldn’t have expected you to be so clumsy, Your Highness." She chuckled to the man, covering her mouth with her napkin, "here." She grabbed his plate and began cutting the lamb for him, feeding him with her own fork. His cheeks displayed a rose hue, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on the hands that fed him. She was like a mother. Like his mother. He missed her terribly after her death a few years back. She was the only one who could convince his father to do anything. She was the one who took him into consideration; who chose family before anything else in his life.

The Prince hushed out a “thank you” as he took another bite of the lamb from her fork. She shook her head as if to say he didn’t need to worry about it. He was a member of the royal family after all. Of course, she would do something as small as this for him.

~~~

Upon finishing eating, The Prince had to go back to The Castle. The place he resented so much. “Can we meet up again tomorrow (Y/n)?” The Prince looked back at her.

“I would love to. We can watch the 6 o’clock play together. I hear this time they’re performing a Shakespear play,” She suggested.

“That sounds perfect!” The Prince shined a bright gummy smile at the girl. He got closer to her to pick up her hands, “I’ll see you then,” he said to her happily. He walked off towards The Castle. (Y/n) watched until he was too small to see anymore.

~~~

The pitter-patters of the rainfall on the window usually brought comfort to (Y/n). But not this morning. The girl paces around her cramped living room. Last night, her little kitten never showed up, causing her to stress about him, and the fact that it was raining meant the play would likely be cancelled.

“Have I really been done like this?” she fell onto her bed purposefully, resting her arm on her forehead. Her long eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she closed her stress-filled eyes. How could one be so unlucky?

Dreading to get up, (Y/n) dragged herself out of the house to open the bakery. Her brolly was old, it was her mother’s. There was a gash on the edge of the maroon fabric allowing water to sprinkle through.

It was an understatement. She was completely drenched by the time she arrived at the bakery. Her shoes squished and her hair dripped. She left puddles on the barely polished oak wood floors with every step she took. She could only hope that the towel that was usually placed in the staffroom was still there today. She sluggishly walked herself to the room and peered at the desk where the towel was usually placed. “Thank God,” she sighed, skipping up to the desk and grabbing the towel. Starting with drying her hair as best she could, then the rest of her.

~~~

His arms were thrown in the air for a mighty stretch. Groans escaped his lips. His puffy eyes were clamped shut for a few seconds. The Prince bounced off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

The kingdom was the only building with running water. Other, lower class, citizens had to labour over bringing water into their houses daily, for cleansing and food.

The prince splashed his face with the cold running water. He started the bathwater and walked out of the bathroom with a towel to dry his face. The Prince’s room was huge with many unnecessary decorations. And a single, but large, painting of a family portrait with his father, mother and himself. His mother wore a black and golden gown, complemented with a peacock feather brooch. The prince was nothing more than a lad at the time, wearing his blue and gold dress. Funny, he still kept that dress, due to his mother’s request.

The prince looked out through his window as the droplets of rain splattered and raced down the glass. “It’s raining today… what am I going to do about this?” The prince looked down to his feet. He never liked the rain, it made his skin itch and he always got sick after being outside. He walked back to the bathroom and hopped in the bath. The hot water put him more at ease.

~~~

The bell attached to the bakery’s door rang loudly. The prince walked in through the door, closed his brolly and shook off some of the water before hanging it on the racks. “Welcome in Your Highness,” (Y/N) bowed to the prince. The two made eye contact for a minute, before (Y/n) broke it and bowed down hastily. “Would you like something to drink while I get ready?” She offered.

“Just tea will be fine,” The Prince replied. He played with the cuffs on his coat and sat down at one of the tables. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were dusted with a light pink shade in contrast to his milky white skin. The Prince never fidgeted, it was ill-mannered, but he couldn’t control himself today. The back of his hands felt dry like a rash was forming on them. From experience, he knew not to scratch them. The Prince sighed, “I hate the rain…”

“Did you say something You’re Highness?” The girl startled the Prince. She placed his cup and plate on the rustic mahogany tables. He pulled the plate closer to him and began to fidget with the edge of the teacup plate.

“No, nothing,” he replied to the girl. “We should make new plans because of the rain… How about this? Would you like to go to The Castle with me?” The girl’s arms went stiff. She looked up into the Prince’s eyes to check for any sarcasm or a crooked grin. But none was seen. She slid into the seat across from him and gripped the edge of the table tightly.

“Are you sure your highness? I’m merely a peasant, I do not belong in the—” she was cut off by the prince’s finger touching her lips. The customers in the bakery all gasped, watching The prince’s actions.

“I’m sure. I know your promise was to show me around the kingdom, but this once let me show you around The Castle. Is that alright?” He asked her, taking his finger off of her lips. She didn’t know how to feel, what would become of her image in the public eye if she said yes. What about if she said no, she’d be known as the ‘girl who turned down the prince’ which would be degrading towards The prince. But what if she was addressed as ‘the prince’s mistress’ or something to indicate a sexual relationship? Either option was bad, but she would rather ruin her own reputation than his.

“I- I’ll go then,” she muttered out, looking at the table.

“Look at me,” he commanded gently. This was the first time he had ever given her a command. Even though the tone in his voice was sweet and gooey, (y/n) was still startled. She immediately looked back into his deep eyes. They were soft but filled with loneliness. How did she not realize this before? He didn’t care about the kingdom, he likely knew it like the back of his hand. What he really wanted was someone he could talk to and someone to keep him company… yet he has hundreds of servants within The Castle, why couldn’t he just talk to one of them?

The patrons in the bakery were all watching her, some with looks of sympathy and others with looks of disgust. Her cheeks flushed, and she suddenly felt shy. This was the first time she had ever been in the spotlight, and now she was caught in it. She wanted to run, to hide. She couldn’t bear the thought of the look of pity and disgust that the people were giving her. She could practically hear them calling her a “whore,” and a “slut”. “I bet she whines and begs for him to warm her side of the bed at night,” she imagined them saying. She felt the prickling sensation in her head, as her thoughts were becoming clouded. She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head to rid the thoughts.

In reality, the patrons were in disbelief. Jealousy clouded a few of them, they wanted to be next to the prince in (Y/n)’s stead. But the rest of them knew just how kind-hearted and deserving of this (Y/n) was.

“(Y/N) look at me,” the prince repeated, sterner this time. She hesitantly looked up at the beautiful, black-haired prince in front of her. Her movements were too slow for him, however. He grabbed her cheeks and turned her to face him. “You’ll be fine,” his forehead moved to touch hers, “I promise.” Her head began to spin in circles, and her legs became weak. You wicked man Prince Min Yoongi. How could you be so deadly attractive and cute at the same time your highness? The warmth of his hands left her cheeks, it moved down her arms instead. He pulled her by her wrists, “Come on (Y/N), let us go.” His childish grin stole the hearts of every customer in that bakery.

“Wait, Your Highness! What about my things? I can’t waltz into The Castle in torn clothing!” Her legs moved on their own to keep her off the ground. The jingle of the door felt more like a “So long” rather than the usual greeting it had before.

“There’s clothing at The Castle!” He didn’t even turn back.

9.24.22

(Next chapter at 50 notes)

[wetbloodworm]

time for a post about niamh! just some general thoughts about my girl, a bit all over the place

she's turning out much nicer than anticipated when i first planned her out, which i think is partly a fault of mine and struggling to be rude even in roleplay lmao. y’know, like how it’s hard to pick the mean options in video games. i don't mind, though, i think she's interesting and i like that she views the rest of the Bullies/Dolphins as her friends that she cares very much about

she's also a thief that hasn't done any stealing in the campaign so far (despite her absurd sleight of hand), which is one part me being very conscious of Consequences and one part character choice. i think niamh chooses not to steal from those who aren't very well off, and is largely careful about stealing from shops as well. i think she also like... primarily steals for jobs, not just for funsies or on impulse or anything like that? if she's stealing something, it's on purpose and for a reason

when they were at the ruby’s house she was absolutely tempted to take SOMETHING because Rich Person, but that’s an ally.

she was less careful/choosy about her targets early on, for a number of reasons.

she started off stealing because she was felt frustrated and resentful and trapped, and she was lashing out. stealing was an outlet for feeling powerless and betrayed by her family. now that she's left home she feels a little bit more in control of her situation, and she has other things to focus on, and while the stress of being hunted by her hag is there she's generally happier overall, and busier, and needs that outlet less. she doesn’t steal out of spite or because she’s upset now, she steals because she’s good at it

another factor is she grew up a rich kid, and then she only had the money she took before leaving, which went fast. so she had to scramble to take care of herself for the first time, and she cared less about who she stole from.

ALSO as a rich kid, tbh her empathy for the poor and her awareness took time to develop. she didn't look down on people, necessarily, but it didn't quite occur to her how stealing something that seemed small to her could ruin people who don't have much to begin with. niamh had to see how poverty actually affected people, how her actions actually affected people. THEN she only started stealing from those who could afford it. or assholes.

niamh leaving home was one part needing to get away from her family and one part fear of her hag finding her if she stayed still for too long.

her relationship with her parents before the hexblood reveal was... fine. it was alright. they weren’t GREAT parents but they weren’t the worst. they were just kind of there, and sometimes they were bossy, and really the nanny and the cook had more of a positive effect on her emotionally growing up, but they were fine. sometimes they’d give her things, and sometimes they were kind without strings attached. and especially when niamh was young enough to not really know better, they seemed perfectly fine to her! the Reveal was the start of things getting less pleasant. first niamh was upset that her mother kept this from her alongside being upset about not being human very suddenly from her perception, and eventually niamh had to find out on her own about the hag hunting her thing, so she was upset about THAT burden being placed on her against her will. there was tension between her parents, too, since her father hadn’t known about this either, and niamh got the vibe that her parents managed to blame HER for this tension. her relationship with both parents soured, and as niamh got older and examined the situation more and stayed upset she decided this was all real fucked up and hey, fuck her parents actually? fuck her mom for burdening her with the hag situation so she could marry a nobleman, fuck her dad for getting weird when he learned she wasn’t technically his (or only his? how do the genetics work here), fuck them both for acting like this is such an annoyance for THEM that SHE caused by turning blue one day. also generally fuck them for being shitty parents because she was a teenager who could recognize that more and was developing strong opinions about how she should be treated and what she should be able to do.

then, y’know. the hag thing. i imagine she didn’t figure that part out immediately, that she was going to be hunted so that she could also be a hag one day. hexbloods are relatively new to ariknott iirc so that would’ve had to be research that she did on her own trying to find answers to what this meant for her. and that was a horrifying thing to learn, but at first she didn’t. know what to DO about that, y’know? no one really had answers for that. she just was going to be a hag one day. which definitely sent her spiraling for a bit, that feeling that it was inevitable that one day she’d lose all sense of herself and become a monster. she mostly comforted herself by convincing herself that she was safe at home, there were guards and it was Home so it was Safe, and like, no hag had shown up YET, right? so maybe she was special. maybe no one was looking for her. she was never FULLY convinced of that but niamh is good at denial. for a while, anyway, because eventually she became more and more nervous over the idea of being a sitting duck here. like, obviously her home at the estate would be the first place a hag would look, right? the home where the woman who made the deal lived? she’d come here first, right? she’d absolutely come here first. bringing that idea up with her parents didn’t go over too well because as complicated as their relationship had become, niamh was their only heir and they couldn’t just send her away. besides, where would she go? be realistic, niamh.

so yeah, combo “I Hate My Parents I’m Going To Run Away And Become A Thief Out Of Spite” and “If I Stay Here My Hag Will Find Me”

i need a full name for her, both just to have one and because she’s nobility and her Family Name is probably a thing i should figure out

Niamh Clodagh Garrahan

there we go

i don’t know why i’ve just decided to go full irish with her name. i have to get my inspiration somewhere

it’s funny to me that i gave her heroforge figure a rapier thinking she’d be more into that and she’s turned out to be a shortbow kinda girl

thinking about it and if the hexblood thing didn’t happen niamh would’ve still ended up resentful of her parents because of who she is and who they are. it was really just a catalyst

i’ve mentioned this... god, somewhere? probably my dreamwidth dnd PC analysis post and maybe also twitter. anyway niamh is aroace. i think maybe sex/romance-neutral leaning towards repulsed. just not her thing, she doesn’t want anything to do with it, y’all do what makes you happy but leave me out of it pls

sometimes niamh cuts her hair short right before going on a job so she doesn’t have to deal with it being in the way. it’ll all grow back like within a day or something but at least she’s free for that brief period of time.

the ‘eerie token’ thing hexbloods can do... she can remove her teeth and nails ‘harmlessly’, apparently, but does that mean ‘painlessly’? idk, if it’s painless she’s tried before but if not she’ll just stick with making tokens from her hair, thank you

i’m losing steam here, any more niamh thoughts will have to be a separate post

bye friends xoxo

[stella-ephemeral]

always - sakusa fluff

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“no.” he mumbled against his pillow, not even opening his eyes. you frowned, he had to at least look at you to deny your request. “pleeaasee?” you drawled, crouching near the bed and giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could manage.

he opened one eye, only to narrow it at you. “no, it’s late, i’m tired, and plus, we ate dinner like--" he glanced lazily at the clock on the bedside table, "--four hours ago.” you huffed impatiently. “yes, and now i want french toast.”

he rolled over purposefully, promptly ignoring you. “fine,” you said, standing and slipping on some shoes. “i’ll be back.” you didn’t really need him to go with you, it was just nicer when he did. you left the bedroom, snickering to yourself when you heard him grumble and the floorboards creak behind you.

you grabbed your keys, knowingly leaving the front door open when you stepped out. you bounded happily to the car, hearing the door shut behind you. you climbed into the driver's seat, arranging the music on your phone.

you didn’t bother looking up when the passenger side door opened and closed again. “i thought you were tired?” you said with a cheeky grin, turning to look over at a pouty sakusa. he glared at you, folding his arms over his chest.

“i am, but you’ll probably get kidnapped or something if i let you go alone, considering it’s 11 pm.” he said exasperatedly. you rolled your eyes, “it’s not that late, stop being so grumpy.” he gave you a pointed look before turning to look out the window. “i don’t like you.” he lied in a stern voice.

“you’re right,” you hummed, leaning over the center console to kiss his cheek. “you love me.” you giggled at the pink dust settling over his nose and cheeks, it was cute he still got flustered over little things like that.

and with that, you began to drive. after a few short minutes, he looked over at you, and he felt his heart glow. it was times like these he got to revel in his love for you. night drives were always like this, and he knew how much you loved them.

you played your favorite music just a little louder, and you drove just a little faster than you did during the day. he would’ve chastised you for being dangerous, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.

he simply watched in awe as the wind from the open window blew your hair back, and the way your hand gently tapped the air as it hung out of the window. you always had a little smirk on your lips at times like these, and it was something he would forever keep in his mind.

“you’re staring, omi.” you commented, glancing over at him. he felt his face heat as he fixed his gaze toward the road. “no i’m not,” he replied firmly. you laughed, the sound filling the space, reverberating within him and warming every inch of his being.

you wandered down the aisles, tugging on his sleeve to steer him where you needed to go. in the middle of the bread aisle, you stopped suddenly, turning around to face him. he was about to question before you stepped closer, reaching up to tug his mask down.

as many times as you had done that before, it still made his breath catch in his throat; the dizzying anticipation the action incited. you placed a kiss on his cheek, settling the mask back over his nose. "thank you for indulging my silly spontaneity." you said, giving him a warm smile.

he was thankful for the mask now, since he could feel the way his face burned at the affection. he sighed, gently pulling you by your wrist close to him and pulling his mask down once more, this time pressing a loving kiss to your lips.

he pulled away, fond eyes looking down at yours. "always." he said, his voice filled with a vulnerable adoration. the softness was short-lived, after all, you were in public. he stepped around you, dragging you behind him so you could quickly get what you needed and head home.

he wanted to kiss you again, and in a way that definitely should never be done in the bread aisle of a grocery store.

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back home

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

[thesevro]

be the boss / toji f.

𝖙𝖔𝖏𝖎 𝖋𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖔 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2.1K words

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: who you gonna call when you be feeling horny? TOJI FUSHIGURO!

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: calling toji daddy, phone sex, face-fucking

TOJI STARES AT his phone screen with a laughing gleam in his eyes.

"You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" he breathes out as you angle your phone to give him a better view of the special, personal show.

"If it can get you over here," you murmur, "Then I'll just keep doing it."

Your hand plays at the gleaming hem of red silk that hugs your figure. It's loose around your legs. The darkness of your room leaves much to Toji's... wild imagination. His eyes stray from the hand that slides between your open legs to focus on your face. He grunts as your brows furrow and your mouth falls open in a soft moan.

"You thinking of my hand between your thighs?" He chuckles, in a slight daze as you whine, pulling the edge of your dress up further to finger your own pussy. "Thinking of my fingers in your cunt, baby?"

You sigh, parting your legs wider to bare yourself to the camera. Toji aches in his pants as you pull your panties to the side to put your wet slit on display.

Caught in four fucking k.

He giddily takes a screen-shot of your fingers inside your hole. His hand slips beneath his pants to palm himself from his boxers. Horny has never felt this hot. And he's never been this hard.

On your back, you look like a fallen angel. Like Lucifer's bad, naughty sister. The phone seems to sit right between your feet, giving him a good view of the wet, swollen folds of pussy. But the room you touch yourself in is dark, and he can just barely see the way your hole convulses around your fingers.

Your back arches from the mattress you lie on as your fingers find your clit. Toji tenses, breathing labored, hunched over his phone with the screen only inches from his face. You have him mesmerized. He swallows. Imagines your cum sliding down his throat.

When you stammer his name, crying softly in pleasure as you near your high, Toji grins with jaded confidence. He can see you losing your mind to pleasure. To need. To the thought of his fingers inside you, and not yours.

"You gonna cum like that? Just thinking of my cock in your pretty little cunny? Dirty slut. Even the thought of it makes you feel so good, yeah?"

You gasp out a yes, yes daddy, panting in the empty room. He sees your shoulders tense, your head fall back further into the pillow, and decides to be a little evil. A little bit of a devil.

Because why should he let you enjoy that beautiful body of yours on your own?

"Don't cum." You don't seem to hear him. His tone lowers to a rough, commanding growl. "Don't fucking cum, (Y/N)."

You immediately slip your fingers out of your hole. You gaze down at your phone with blown pupils and a red face.

"What's wrong?" you ask in a shaky voice. "Did I do something wrong, daddy?"

Ah, you know him too well. That thing you call him... always makes him think of fucking you 'till you scream words dirty as sin.

"Wait for me. If you cum before I get there, you won't get daddy's cock." He blinks at you with the eyes of a watchful predator. Fuck, is he ready to fuck you up. "You know that I'll know if you do, don't you baby?"

"Yes daddy. B-but please, please hurry." You swipe at your slit again. He huffs, swinging a thick coat over his shoulder on his way to the door, still on the phone with you. "I want daddy to taste this."

He takes off at a brisk walk. He ends the call now, whispers that you be a good girl and wait for your daddy. He knows that you will be. He knows that it was pointless telling you, if not completely inimical, because if anything he'd only made your pussy ache more.

He knocks at your door. Chuckles to himself for a second. He's never knocked on anyone's door before. He supposes something about you has changed him. With a pussy as good as yours he guesses such changes were inevitable.

You swing the door open, hair a pretty mess, bust nearly bursting from your dress. It's a tight one on you. He shares one look with you, then gets straight to giving his good girl her reward. Desperation comes over your features. From that he knows you had obeyed him.

"Were you good for daddy?" he asks, cupping your cheek with atypical fondness as he pushes you through the door.

"Yes daddy," you answer. "I was a good girl for you."

The only affirmation he offers you is a pleased hum he lets vibrate against your mouth as he slams the door shut and shoves you up against the wall. You moan into his lips. Wrap your legs around his thick waist. He can taste your sweet lipstick.

"What do you want me to reward you with, baby?" he questions, tonguing the shell of your ear and purpling your neck with bruises for love bites. "Want me to make you cum three times? Seven? I can make it good for you."

"Anything. Anything from you daddy."

In spite of the chuffed delight he feels at your easy subservience, he really wants to make this good for you.

"You have to let daddy know what his good girl wants," he says. "Come on, tell me."

Toji pulls back to smirk down at you. You seem dazed and far out of your head. If he can fuck you up like this, he wonders how many times you've done him over with your own coquettish teases. Though he doubts he's ever shown it the way you do.

"I want to suck on daddy's cock," you tell him.

Of course you do. You have always sought his satisfaction instead of your own.

He can't say no to you this time.

You throw your gaze to the couch. It's such a filthy look Toji wonders how you can focus on a literal couch with that much indecency.

Toji slides his tongue against yours as he maneuvers you and him to the couch. His cock twitches in his pants. Anticipation boiling at an all-time high at the decadent sucking you'll give him.

Yeah. A lot of the time your mouth around his cock is all he can think of.

You press one kiss to the scar on his mouth. It's tender and sweet and everything he's ever closed himself off to. But you open him up like ripe fruit.

His coat hangs on the stand by the door. His focus diverts to the shadow of it for a second, body and mind calm. Red and white taillights brighten the glass of your door and window. A pacific serenity settles over him. Being here with you—even as you're about to deep-throat his cock in the skilled way you do with that pretty mouth of yours—lets him feel a very tiny degree of domesticity. A very tiny degree of peace.

Does he like it? Well.

"Daddy's got such a pretty girl," he compliments, sliding his thumb across your lips as you tie your hair up behind your head. "Let me do that for you."

You pull back from him in surprise. The offer is so abnormal and unexpected your instincts bring you away from him.

"What," he deadpans.

"Do you—do you even know how to—?"

"Who do you think has been keeping your hair up every time you do this?"

"Oh." A smile graces your mouth. Toji glares down at you but you only lighten up with bubbly laughter. "Sorry. Sorry, daddy. Here you go."

You hand him the hair tie. He puts your hair up with diligence, turning his nose up smugly as you touch the perfectly messy bun at the back of your head, nodding in approval.

"Daddy did a surprisingly good job," you tease.

"Keep talking like that and I'll have to shut you up with my cock, sweetheart."

"Mhm. Now let me do that myself."

It takes only seconds for you to undo his belt and unzip his fly. His breathing gets all worked up again. You blink up at him with doe-eyed innocence as you rub your face into his cock, indulging in the warmth of his length. Cheek receiving each throb of his dick.

"Something wrong, daddy?"

"Hurry. Up."

Uh oh. A little misstep on your part. Too much teasing.

You tilt your head, eyes still on him as you swallow his cock up. Your hands wrap around the fat length. You have to balance yourself on his thigh as the head of his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around your gag reflex. Toji breathes in sharply. Grasps your hair in a hand and patiently waits for you to finish taking him in. It is... very unlike him.

He's acting nicer than usual.

The muscles in your throat contract. Convulse. It's always been hard to suck this man's cock. It's bigger than your monthly salary.

You choke as his dick twitches in your mouth, eyes squeezing shut at the sheer girth and length of it. You struggle to breathe in through your nose. Toji notices.

"Want me to do the work for you, sweetheart?"

His question comes out as a heavy grunt as you hollow your cheeks and wrap your mouth around him tighter. You open your closed eyes, tempted to let him have his way with you.

The air pops with the sound of you pulling off his cock. You swallow through the ache in your throat and cheeks. Only three minutes in and your mouth is already exhausted.

"Fuck my face, daddy."

Toji stands and hastily adjusts your position so that your head rests against the couch. You relax your jaw and hold your smiling mouth open for him. He grips the bottom of your chin with his fingers and palm and gently taps your mouth with his cock. You widen your mouth.

The shirt wrapped around his musculature strains as he slides his cock into your mouth. His chest heaves, brows curling together as he watches himself fuck your face.  

"Yeah, good girl," he praises in a hungry voice. He fucks his cock into your mouth slowly, keen to feel every struggling gasp and gurgled swallow of your mouth. He wants to cum in your mouth then slip the white mess off your tongue to paint your face filthy with it.

Soon his thrusts go wild. He grips the back of your head with both hands, tugging at your hair with his fingers and holding your head the way he holds your ass in doggy-style.

Toji smirks through his sex-drunk haze as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Drool spills from the side of your mouth. He can't wait to see his cum mix with it. Toji angles his body so that he can hump your mouth harder. So that he doesn't fall over when you suddenly reach upward to finger his balls with skill.

"Gonna take my cum? Does my good girl wanna take it?"

You lean upward to tilt your head back, loosening your throat further so that his cock goes nearly all the way down. He moans quietly. Throws his head back as you grab the backs of his thighs and part of his ass to push his cock in deeper. Your nose brushes the hair on his pelvis, lips almost kissing the same sprouts of hair. You're taking him in so far he can't help but groan and rut into your throat with hotter fervor.

You gulp through a clogged throat as he plugs your mouth up and full of cum. Toji's own mouth falls open and he breathes out hard from around a moan as he cums. You watch as he does. He gets so vulnerable when he releases. His face contorts and he hunches over to get his dick far down your throat. You wonder if there'll be any left on your tongue. You don't want to disappoint your daddy by having no proof to show.

His cock slips out of your mouth with a delicious slide. You suck your cheeks in as he does, lips savoring the sensation of the head of his dick catching at your mouth.

"Daddy knows his girl swallowed it all up," he says, holding your cheek in one hand. "So let him give her another reward for being so good."

———

END NOTE: Please do not take lewd photos of your partner without their consent. Such an act shows how little respect you have for their body and their wishes. Please ask for clear consent from them before taking such photos.

[navegandoaciegas]

Crybaby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (College AU)

Warnings: smut, ass fingering, orgasm denial, humiliation, lots of talks about panties.

Summary: You catch Bucky trying to steal your panties on laundry day.

A/N: this is partly @buckycuddlebuddy​ ‘s fault tbh. Enjoy some desperate, horny Bucky. Minors DNI.

The timer on the dryer unit you’d occupied went off, signaling that your weekly load of laundry was dry and ready. Bucky cast a nervous glance around the eerily empty room, fingers twitching in the front pocket of his hoodie.

He knew it was wrong, but his laundry was done too (just a coincidence, really, not like he’d wake up at 3 am on a Monday because he knew you did your washing around that time), and you weren’t there yet. You usually retrieved your load in the morning anyways.

Just a peek, he reasoned. Out of curiosity. You wouldn’t even realize they were missing, and if you did you’d chalk it up to the washing machine eating your clothes.

You’d show up to class on Tuesday and sit next to him while he’d be wearing your pretty lace panties and you’d be none the wiser.

Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it.

He dug in your laundry, sifting through mascara stained washcloths and an endless amount of oversized t-shirts, until he found what he’d been looking for.

Small, so tiny in fact that he wondered how your lips could fit in them. He groaned -the idea of your pussy hanging out of the material made his cock twitch, and brought the panties to his face, rubbing his nose all over the lace. He’d fantasized of burying his face between your legs all semester long, and this seemed close enough, the closest he could get to you anyways.

They seemed stretchy, and he hoped he could manage to stuff himself inside them.

“Didn’t peg you for a panty sniffer, Barnes.”

The world stilled around him, the ring in his ears so loud that he wondered if you could hear it too.

He was so engrossed in his creeping, that he hadn’t heard the door open and click shut, nor your steps as you walked behind him, or the slight groan that the washing machine behind him emitted when you settled on it, swinging your legs.

Slowly, he turned around, your lace panties still tightly clutched to his chest.

You almost chuckled at the sight of his bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Almost.

“That- it’s not- not how it looks like- I-”

“What, you were gonna fold my laundry for me? How considerate,” you sneered, but the look on your face was far from disgust.

Derision, sure, but not disgust. The mischievous interest in your eyes sent chills down his spine, not necessarily the good kind.

He felt dread settle in his stomach, anticipating whatever consequence his actions would have.

“You do this often?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, naked legs still swinging over the washing machine.

Bucky couldn’t find the words, and honestly the gall, to speak, so he just shook his head vehemently, shuffling on his feet.

“Hm, you like sniffing ‘em?”

He remained unmoving, too humiliated to do anything.

“Oh, I got it,” you beamed, pointing a finger at him and squinting your eyes, “You like touching yourself with pretty panties, hm? Like using them to fuck your dick, and cum all over ‘em?”

He wanted to answer, tell you to fuck off and sprint away to hide in his dorm for the rest of his life, but honestly he deserved this and so much worse. He almost considered dropping out of college entirely, but that glint in your eyes kept him anchored to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on his white sneakers, “I-, I promise, I never done it before, I don’t know why-, look I won’t do it again, I swear,” he pleaded, tears pooling in his crystal eyes and threatening to stream down his face.

You cooed, honest to God coeed, a mocking pout on your lips.

You should have left, and reported him, but those pretty tears of his, the tremble in his voice, the stuttered pleas, only served to spur you on, a familiar warmth building up in your core.

“I bet if word got out of this, no one would want to hang around the resident creep anymore. Good luck getting girls then. Although, well, I don’t think you get too many under normal circumstances, do you?” you snorted, “That would be embarrassing, hm? Wouldn’t want that, would you?”

He found himself shaking his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat to avoid giving you any more reason to mock him.

“It’s your lucky day then, because I have no intention to tell anyone,” you announced, stepping down to lean against the machine, arms crossed over your stomach.

“You- you don’t?” he wondered.

The notion should have elated him, but he felt himself growing more uneasy and confused with the smirk on your face.

“Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Cross my heart,” you laughed, making a show of placing a hand on your chest.

He eyed you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Barnes? I wouldn’t enjoy bullying you if I’m not the only one doing it,” you chirped, “That doesn’t mean that my forgiveness should come for free, tho.”

His breath hitched, and you followed his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down his throat.

You could feel the control in your grasp, panties getting wetter with each one of his tears.

“I’ll do anything,” he swore, and you almost wished he’d fall on his knees and beg.

“Anything you say, huh?” you paused, “Strip,” you commanded, leaning back against the washing machine.

Bucky furrowed his brows and looked up in confusion, then disbelief, finally embarrassment. “Wh- what? But, but what if someone sees, I-”

“Then you better hurry.”

“But I-”

“You fuckin’ heard me the first time.”

He was startled into action, hands hastily pulling at his hoodie and jeans until he was standing in nothing but socks and underwear.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself again.”

He gulped visibly, and hesitated before hooking his fingers around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

He blushed harder, ducking his head.

His cock sprung out of his boxers, and the mouthwatering sight of it had you reconsidering Bucky Barnes and all your life choices during this semester.

He was glistening in pre cum, painfully hard and veiny, and definitely thick enough that fitting it inside your cunt would be hard work on both parts. You imagined taking him in your mouth, how you would definitely choke around his girth, and your jaw would be sore for days.

Not today, though. Bad boys did not get that kind of privilege.

You bit your lips, and Bucky fought the impulse to squirm under your intense gaze.

“Something wrong?” he rasped out, praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole in case you found him too small, too crooked, too hairy.

You snorted, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Yeah, babe, the fact that I haven’t seen you naked before. You been hiding all this,” you eyed his crotch suggestively, “from me all this time?”

“T- thanks,” he stuttered, offering you a small smile, eyes trained on the ground. He tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when you called him an endearing term, reminding himself that this was all a game to you, a game that he was more than willing to play if it ended up with his cock buried deep inside you.

You sighed then, pondering your thoughts. He was not your usual type, but he was cute in a nerdy way, shy and quiet, and he was packing more than any other man you’d had before.

Plus, this was way too entertaining for you to pass up.

“Wear ‘em.”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the command, but this time he did not hesitate to follow your instructions, a bit too eager as he slid the panties up his thighs.

The shutter of your phone’s camera brought him out of his thoughts, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw you take pictures of him. He trusted you wouldn’t spread them around, but the thrill of danger had him leak more pre cum, wetting a patch on the lace.

“So that’s your deal? You like wearing panties? Didn’t even try to act like you didn’t want to,” you snickered, “What a whore.”

The situation couldn’t get more humiliating, and he couldn’t get more desperate for you.

“Be a good boy, Bucky. Fold the laundry for me, since that’s clearly what you meant to do,” you laughed scornfully, nodding to the basket at your feet.

He walked to you slowly, bending over to pick it up, and yelped when you slapped his ass harshly, the sound bouncing off the walls and shooting straight to his aching cock.

“Cute. Now go, you got something to do and I don’t have all night.”

He sighed, and got to work, unloading each item from the dryer, and folding it neatly.

You eyed the lines of his back, the round globes of his ass, the string of your thong dipping between his cheeks. You almost lost yourself imagining how pretty he would look all scratched and marked before you furrowed your brows, observing the way he folded on of your nicer shirts that you wore on interviews and internships.

“Can’t even fold laundry, look at you,” you tsked, shaking your head, “Try that again, I don’t want to spend more than necessary ironing it.”

He obeyed, without any protest, smoothing the creases he’d created, and continuing with your load, until the dryer was empty and you were satisfied.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praised, beckoning him over.

He got closer, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He looked so pretty like that, all teary and obedient.

You wanted to make him yours and ruin him for everybody else.

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert, you know that? A creep and a pervert.”

You saw the way his cock twitched behind your lace at the words, and almost doubled over in laughter.

The night couldn’t get any better.

“Fuck, you really are a pervert. This what you get off to? You imagine me calling you names, degrading you like the bitch you are? You want to be humiliated, don’t you?”

A desperate, pathetic whine escaped his throat, and he felt his knees growing weak with need. He was naked in a public space where everyone could see him, being belittled and humiliated by the girl he’d been pining over, and he was hard as a rock, getting off every word that spilled out of your mouth.

“Well,” you purred, fisting the hair at the back of his neck and tugging harshly, “I think we can arrange that.”

“Yes, yes, please, I want it,” he whimpered, chest heaving, “I want you, I’m your slut, I-, you can do whatever you want to me.”

You almost moaned then, intoxicated by his burning desire.

“Good boy,” you hummed, releasing his hair to stroke his cheekbone, smiling at the way he leaned his head against your palm, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Remember you can tell me to stop or slow down whenever you want, and I will. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” you added more serious, observing his face for any trace of anything but enthusiasm.

When you found none, and he nodded feverishly, you let your hand fall from his cheek to his shoulder, tracing the outlines of his lean muscle.

“Can- can you kiss me, please?” he asked, and he begged so prettily that you could do nothing but humor him, crashing your lips against his.

It was messy, rough. He was sloppy, and from the way he moved against you, you guessed he didn’t have too much experience.

Better, you reasoned. You’d teach him all he needed to know to please you, and you only.

You bit on his bottom lip, and Bucky yelped in surprise, parting his lips.

He tasted like mint on your tongue, and you sighed in content, letting your hands travel down his sides, barely grazing his skin, scratching the hair on his belly.

He shuddered under your touch, goosebumps erupting in your wake.

When you reached his lower stomach, you felt him tense, his breathing getting harder, his tongue more insistent.

He was drooling and crying, you realized, as he snapped his hips against your leg, humping you like a dog.

You broke away from the kiss, catching your breath.

“Look at you, you gettin’ real worked up and I barely even touched you. What are you, a fuckin’ virgin?” you chuckled, playing with the little bow on the front of your panties.

You’d expected him to laugh, or deny, but he just stood there awkwardly, avoiding your gaze,

“I’m not,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Then why are you acting like one?” you prodded, but didn’t wait for him to answer, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

His hesitant hands groped your breasts, finally gaining the confidence to do more than linger awkwardly on your hips. He twirled your stiff nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them, movements getting more frenzied the closer he got to his release.

He crouched awkwardly to be at your chest level while still pressing his hips onto you, and tugged your loose tank top down, moaning at the sight of your tits.

“Go on baby, suck on my tits.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement to assault your nipples, latching his mouth onto one of them, and suckling. You wondered if he’d ever even touched a pair of boobs before, but his ministrations were working either way, making your walls clamp down on nothing.

You finally grasped him in your hand, his cock heavy and throbbing in your palm as you stroked him lazily, spurred on by his little whimpers.

His whole body quivered when you ran your thumb over his slit, and you marvelled at his sensitivity.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?” you moaned in his ear, “I bet you do, I bet you could cum already just from this. Just a handjob, like the pathetic little boy you are, hm?”

He released your tits with a wet pop, and rose to full height again, resting his forehead on yours.

“Yes, yes, please,” he sobbed, “please, princess, more.”

You complied, doubling your efforts. He inhaled sharply when you added your other hand and began twisting both your wrists in opposite directions.

“You want your princess to suck your dick, baby? Want me to get on my knees and take you in my mouth?”

He nodded against you, grinding his hard cock against your hand, desperate to chase his release.

“Or maybe you want your princess’ pretty pussy? You want to fill me with your fat cock and stuff me full of your filthy cum, don’t you?”

He began blabbering, breathing harder, sloppily snapping his hips. He had a look of pure bliss on his face, his eyes shut tightly, mouth hung open and a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

You could feel him grow and throb in your hand, and just before he was about to reach his high, you stopped your hands.

His eyes shot open and he opened and closed his mouth to protest, but you gave him no time, fisting his hair and slamming him against the washer, bending him over the cold surface.

“What, you thought I’d catch you stealing my panties and I’d let that go?” you tutted, bending over him, pressing your front to his back, whispering in his ear “Bad boys need to be punished, don’t you agree?”

A choking sound escaped his parted lips, and you giggled against his skin, licking a strip behind his neck.

You let your hands wander down the expanse of his back, settling on the waistband of your panties. You indulged yourself again, slapping his ass because you liked how it jiggled and how Bucky whined.

“You have a nice ass, you know,” you mused, slouching back to get a good vision of it, “You ever had anyone stick anything up there?”

“W-what?” he sputtered, crooning his head to look at you, “N-no, never.”

“Cute.”

He squirmed in embarrassment when you spread his cheeks, groaning when he felt your spit drip down on him. You massaged a finger around his rim, your hand coated in your spit and his pre cum.

“Relax, I’ll make you feel really good, promise.”

You gradually felt his muscles relax under your touch as you soothingly ran a hand down his back and kept whispering calming, sweet nothings in his ear.

Then, you dipped a finger past the rim.

“See, not that bad, huh?” you smiled, working your finger inside him, caressing his walls.

You nipped the skin of his back, peppering his muscles with fluttering kisses, grazing your teeth over his column.

You dipped another in, and Bucky hissed, wiggling his legs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you shushed him, “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

He preened under your praise, and you began scissoring your fingers inside his ass, working him open and looking for the spot you knew would make him beg for more.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your pussy desperate to be stuffed full of his cock.

You loved how pliant Bucky was being, obedient and submissive in your grasp. You noticed the tears that hadn’t stopped streaming down his face, and huffed a laugh.

“A pervert, a slut, and a fuckin’ crybaby, aren’t you?” you mumbled, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, holding onto the washing machine for dear life, tongue lolling out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin, making it known that you’d found what you’d been looking for.

“Yes, fuck, please princess, gimme more,” he begged, overwhelmed with a pleasure like he’d never experienced before.

He felt like a fire had been lit in his lower belly, and it was spreading to every limb, encompassing him whole.

You grasped his cock in one of your hands while your fingers kept pummeling into his ass, feeling the rim clench around you and his cock pulsate.

You thought you could cum from his beautiful sounds alone, and you kept going until you were sure he was on the verge of a mind shattering orgasm.

Then, you stopped again, and this time Bucky sobbed, blabbering and wailing, begging you.

“Please princess, I’ll do anything, just please let me cum, please, please,” he continued, shamelessly bucking his hips against nothing.

You released his cock and pulled your fingers out of his ass, cleaning the fluids against his panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ pathetic, begging like that,” you mocked him, retrieving your phone from the pocket of your shorts.

You snapped a couple of photos of him bent over the washing machine, pent up and debauched. His balls hung from the lace of your panties, and you made sure to zero on his tear stained face.

“So pretty, my pretty crybaby,” you cooed, helping him stand up again.

He fell on his knees, clutching the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please, you can’t leave me like this, I-, please,” he blabbered.

You committed the image to memory, knowing you’d see it again soon.

You could see it in his eyes how hooked he was to you.

“Baby, bad boys don’t get to cum, do they? You can’t go around stealing people’s laundry,” you tutted, lightly slapping his cheek, “You deserve some punishment, don’t you agree?”

He hesitantly nodded, slumping down on his shins. You grasped his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze.

“You got to bed now, no touching, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll know if you disobeyed, and trust me, you don’t want to know what’s gonna happen if you did.”

You smiled, and took a few steps back to retrieve your basket, leaving him to catch his breath on the floor.

“See you tomorrow at 4 pm, you know where my dorm is,” you chirped despite your own neglected arousal, sauntering to the door, “Get dressed before someone comes in, you wouldn’t want to see how much of a pervert you are, right?”

He shook his head, agreeing with you despite the sobs that silently shook through his body.

“Good boy,” you purred, hand twisting the knob. You paused, and threw him a look over yourself, “Oh, and thank you for the laundry.”

-

I hope you liked this! Please leave some feedback if you can! ❤️

[hopespeak-hs-hostclub]

may i request hajime destroying readers insides for flirting with other guys afab reader with she/her pronouns?

I LOVE JEALOUS HAJIME. Ofc, let’s go! I hope you like it 🙈I had fun writing it! Sorry it took me a little longer than I’d have liked!!!

Hajime Jealous Afab Reader

18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18!!!!! NSFW: story under cut

TW:// NSFW, jealousy, over stimulation, mentions of drinking

Word Count:// 2,262

You were so excited for Hajime to come home so you could show him your outfit. You’d finally gotten the new clothes you ordered in the mail, and one outfit in particular made you feel so hot. You’d done your makeup all dramatic to match, and even did your hair all nice, knowing your boyfriend should be on his way home from work by now. You planned on showing him the new outfit and taking him out to a bar to dance, drink, and have a good time.

So when Hajime walked through the door and barely even looked at you, you were obviously upset. “Hajime..” you whispered as you stood behind him, while he was walking into the kitchen.

He sighed heavily and turned around to face you. “Yes?” He asked plainly. He didn’t seem to be very interested, almost like he didn’t even care.

“I … I was just asking if you liked my new outfit… I was hoping maybe we could go to the bar and have a fun night…” you said, feeling and sounding let down.

“Oh yea, you look fine.” Hajime said only answering the first part of your statement, and not really seeming as excited about your outfit as you’d hoped.

“Just… fine?” You asked suddenly getting a little angry. Hajime just nodded and turned back around, opening the fridge. “Wow..” you said in disbelief. “So I get all dressed up and sexy for you so we could have a nice night out, and all you do is say I look ‘fine’?” You started going off not even giving him a chance to respond. “Well fuck it Hajime. I’m going to the bar without you. I’ll have a good night by myself.” You said as you quickly grabbed your purse and keys, heading outside, leaving Hajime standing in the kitchen dumbfounded.

‘What the fuck did I do?’ Hajime thought to himself. He’d had a really stressful day at work, and now he gets home and all you want to do is argue with him? Hajime sighs heavily and slams the fridge door shut, not even grabbing the drink he wanted and storms upstairs, immediately taking off all his clothes, showering up, and changing into a nicer outfit. He then hopped into his car, and started to drive to the nearest bar which was about 15 minutes from your shared apartment.

At the bar, you ordered 3 shots for yourself. And once you downed those you were feeling confident as ever. ‘Fuck Hajime. He doesn’t appreciate me. I look fantastic tonight and he didn’t even care. But somebody will.’ You thought to yourself while scanning the room. You immediately saw an incredibly attractive man sitting by himself. ‘Not nearly attractive as Hajime, but who is?’ You thought in your head. You took a deep breathe, stood up from your seat, and smoothly glided across the bar to the seat across from the man who currently had all your attention.

“Hi- I’m Y/N.” You said in a flirty tone while smiling at him.

“Well, hello there Y/N.” He said while smirking back at you. “You look absolutely fucking stunning tonight you know?” The stranger went on. “Like god damn, that shirt? You look phenomenal!” He made your whole face blush bright red.

You decided to slide a little closer to him and asked him, “So what’s a big handsome guy like yourself doing out here all alone tonight?” You asked, twirling your hair.

As you continued to flirt with your mystery bar toy, Hajime snuck in without you noticing. He began scanning the room to find you, and almost immediately spotted you. And a guy staring down your shirt? ‘Oh fuck no’ Hajime stopped thinking completely. He took a few big strides over towards your direction and forcefully grabbed your hand. “Hey, babe,” he said while staring daggers at the other guy.

“H-Hajime..” you said staring at him.

“Who’s your friend?” Hajime asked still not taking his eyes off the guy.

“I- .. don’t know,” you confessed. “It wasn’t anything serious. He was just being friendly Hajime-“ you started to explain. The guy across from you just sat there mouth slightly agape staring at the awkward situation unfold in front of him.

Hajime tugged your arm up, and you stood up with it, staring at him. “Let’s go home, Y/N,” Hajime said holding you close by his side.

Hajime drove you home even though your car was still at the bar. He knew you’d been drinking and even if he was currently upset, he’s be devastated if you got hurt, or if you hurt somebody else. The drive home was only 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Hajime didn’t say a single word to you the entire drive, and had the radio off. It was a deafening silence. One you’d pulled up to your building, Hajime wasted no time turning the car off and storming into the building, and once in your apartment, you followed him into the bedroom.

“Sit.” Hajime demanded, pointing at the edge of your bed, while standing across from it.

You sat down where he pointed and looked up at him.

“Explain.” Hajime said sharply.

“Hajime- I dressed up so cute, and so happy and confident and I was so excited for you to come home and tell me how sexy I was and I was hoping you’d be excited to take me out and show me off, but you didn’t care. But that guy said I looked pretty. He actually noticed that I put in effort….” You blurted out all at once.

“So you think I didn’t care?” Hajime snapped back. “I couldn’t have had a bad day at work, or needed 5 minutes to myself? And then you went and snuck around my back flirting with the first man who gives you any attention?” Hajime sounded angry. He didn’t even give you a second to answer him when he started speaking again. “No. Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You’re mine.” He smirked suddenly and took a few steps towards you, pushing you backwards onto the bed. “All. Mine.” He said seductively as he took his shirt off. “And I’m going to prove that to you right now, okay?” You nodded slightly staring into the eyes that are now directly above yours. “Use your words, y/n.”

“Y-yes Hajime,” you stammered out shocked. Hajime almost never takes charge like this- but god were you excited.

Hajime began kissing your neck, up and down, and all over until he heard you gasp softly. When he heard that gasp he started kissing, and sucking, and biting on that spot trying to get you to be more vocal. You moaned very softly, trying not to make any noise, which was good enough for your boyfriend, who moved his lips up to yours. He continued on to kiss you oh so softly, making you practically melt into the mattress you were laying in the middle of, until he suddenly bit your lip, causing you to open it just enough for him to slip his tongue into your open mouth. You moaned out softly into his mouth, much louder than you’d anticipated. Hajime then pulled away from you, so he hovered above you. “Shirt,” he only said that one word and you immediately sat up and threw your new top onto the floor. Noticing that you weren’t in a bra immediately, Hajime’s hands instantly started grabbing and playing with your breasts. And then his mouth.

“Hajime-“ you breathed out softly, followed by a few soft moans. “Mm… I love you…”

Hajime stopped playing with you and look at you. “Is that why you flirt with strangers?” He asked, not waiting for an answering before moving his hand down to your thighs, slowly moving his fingers up your little skirt. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tight.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen, y/n,” Hajime whispered against your ear in a low sultry voice. “I’m going to destroy your insides, and prove that you’re all mine. Got it?” Hajime pulled his face away from yours and looked at you, awaiting an answer from you this time.

“Yes Hajime,” you whimpered back. And at that, he wasted zero time. Slowly, he moved his long slender fingers to push your panties to the side, and sliding another up and down your already soaking wet slit. Your breathing quickly sped up, and got much heavier. He continued to tease you for a few moments until you moaned out loud. “F-fuck..” you threw your head back and pushed your hips up towards his fingers, begging for more contact. Hajime happily obliged, and slowly put his long index finger inside of you, curling it once it was all the way in. “Holy shit…” you gasped excitedly.

“What, do you like that?” Hajime inquired with a smug look across his face, as he continued to fuck you slowly with his index finger. You nodded frantically, but to your dismay, he stopped moving his finger completely and pulled it out, looking at you. “Use your words, Princess,” Hajime ordered you.

“Y-yes Hajime, I love it so much, please keep going..” you were practically crying waiting for him to fuck you with his finger again. But when he reentered you, this time he used two fingers. “Mm, fuck..” you moaned out as you grabbed the back of hajime’s hair, pulling him in to kiss him. He kissed back, as he continued to finger fuck you for a little while longer. Then he curled his fingers again and you couldn’t contain yourself. “FUCK!” You screamed thrusting your hips up trying to get him to go deeper. “Hajime please, I- hhhhhng- I need you. I need more of - ahh- you. Please Hajime please,” you rambled on in between moans and groans.

“Are you sure you want more?” Hajime teased you, while slowly taking fingers out and slamming them back into you.

“Holy fuck- ahhh- yes please Hajime please please I’m begging you.”

Hajime instantly pulled his fingers out and threw his jeans and boxers off in the blink of an eye. He was already rock hard despite you not having touched him at all tonight. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, just staring at him glistening above you.

“H-Hajime please…” you begged, spreading your legs open for him. “Please…” you started to continue to beg for him, until without warning, he shoved himself inside you. “FUCK!” You screamed out loudly.

Hajime didn’t start slowly- he immediately picked up his pace and he quickly began bottoming you out.

“H- oh. Ahh…haaa…” you moaned through deep breathes. You grabbed onto Hajime’s back and dug your nails into it, receiving a loud hiss from his mouth, resulting in you getting fucked with even more force behind each thrust. You started to move your hips in the same rhythm as Hajime’s, while moving your head up ever so slightly so you could sloppily kiss him. He didn’t notice your head come up to meet his though, so you started to kiss his neck to gain his attention. For just a moment, Hajime’s pace slowed down and got a little bit sloppier while you sucked and bit on his neck, leaving several bright purple marks on him. Hajime pulled his neck away from yours, and pinned your arms above your head, and stared to makeup out with you. He had significantly slowed down his pace, but continued to bottom out the entire time, making you cry out in pleasure with each and every thrust.

“Hajime- ahhh.. I love you..” you cried out in pure bliss. You could feel his huge dick hitting you deep inside. It felt like he was completely moving around all your insides, and just wrecking you. At this point you try to cry out to him, but you can’t even form words. You start drooling and whimpering incoherently with each and every deep hard thrust. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you quickly, and you try to warn Hajime, but you unfortunately can’t make any words come out. Instead, you wrap your legs around his waist as tightly as you can, as you feel yourself tighten around Hajime. Your eyes shut so tight, that all you could see were swirls of light in your eyes. The tip of his dick hits your g-spot one last time, and you felt the pure ecstasy rush from the tips of your toes, all the way through your body as you came hard around Hajime. You were an incoherent mess of moans, screams, and cries.

“Oh, fuck-!” Hajime stuttered out as he messily slammed himself into you a few more times, before losing control of himself and finishing deep inside of you. As his thick warm cum filled you up, he continued to make slow deep thrusts until he was finished, proceeding to collapse onto the bed right next to you. He rolled over and looked you in the eyes as he caressed your cheek in the palm of his hand, and whispered, “I love you, y/n. I always have and will. And I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you wanted. But don’t you dare flirt with another man, ever again.” Hajime teased, before kissing the tip of your nose and pulling you close.

“I… I l-love you t..too,” you stammered, still out of breath and searching for words. “Sorry..” you mumbled as you curled up onto his chest, holding him close to you, until you fell asleep in his arms.

[aminiatureworld]

Wings

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,523

Warnings: Slight depictions of violence

Premise: In which the reader has wings

Author’s Note: It’s been a while! Hopefully I’m not too rusty, although I can’t account for how late(/early) this is being posted. I’m going to bed.

Xiao

Even from the beginning Xiao had been enthralled with your wings.

They were larger than that of any bird or creature that Xiao had ever seen before, stretching far beyond your arms when they were unfolded, before bending to cover you in a cloak of downy feathers the color of warm soil, shot through with the occasional birch colored feather.

He’d decided to appear in front of you almost the moment he saw you in the distance, at first wondering if you might be an adepti or a god from one of the other lands in Teyvat. Although the look of surprise that crossed your face when he shed his invisibility before you quickly robbed him of that conviction. It was too late to go back at that point though, so Xiao begrudgingly let out his question.

“Who are you?”

Your smile was an odd one; it seemed to convey to Xiao that you didn’t have the answer to his question at all. Nevertheless you answered. You were a half-adepti, and as of such you had been born with wings. When pressed upon your adeptus side you merely shook your head. Both of your parents hadn’t stuck around that much, and you knew little of your heritage, or of the beings who walked the land who weren’t Morax.

Xiao had stared at you then, disbelief mixing with a vague sense of pity. What must it be like to be unable to recognize an adeptus despite being one yourself. It seemed ludicrous, but Xiao couldn’t find it in himself to disdain your state. Pausing then he decided upon what immediately after seemed a very foolish decision.

“Call for me if you are in need. I’m called Xiao.”

He didn’t bother waiting for your response before disappearing, unwilling to let his emotions be known.

 The next time he saw you was in the sky. The yaksha certainly hadn’t expected such a thing, and while the initial shock was certainly something, it was almost immediately replaced with a strange appreciation. Though Xiao had seen that the vision you wielded was a Geo one, he almost immediately began to associate you with his own element, with the winds that carried you where you wished to go. Any clumsiness or human fault in your step was almost immediately shed, for how could one be anything but graceful in the air, no matter how they dipped or shook or stopped suddenly. If Xiao was honest with himself, he was utterly enthralled.

Eventually you seemed to grow tired and soon you grew closer. Shifting slightly Xiao backed up as you landed on a branch next to the roof, face flushed with exercise and happiness. Spotting Xiao you smiled brightly.

“It’s a beautiful place to fly here.”

Seemingly unfazed by the lack of conversation on Xiao’s part you sighed, leaning against the branch and staring into the sky. Murmuring something to yourself you seemed so utterly content. A begrudging curiosity swept over Xiao as he found himself responding to your words.

“Really?”

“Oh yes!” You immediately replied, face brightening. “It’s much nicer here than where I came from.”

“Where?” Xiao found himself once more asking.

“Oh this small village on the outskirts of Liyue, near the Chasm a bit. It’s a poor mining town, always covered in soot and coal dust. It’s very difficult to keep things clean there let me tell you; and the people don’t really like things that stand out. I haven’t flown in a while actually, since everyone was so hostile when I did. Now that I’m here I think, I hope, that I can do what they want.”

“You can.”

“I’m so glad to hear,” you smiled once more. “I wasn’t really sure what it would be like here. I’ve mostly stayed in the village, but people seemed more hostile than usual so I figured it’d be better to leave now before I ended up on the wrong side of a pitchfork or a shovel.”

“Humans are so foolish.”

“Maybe you’re right. Still, I’m here now and who knows! Maybe things will turn out well.”

With that you clambered off the roof and walked into the Inn proper, leaving Xiao a swirl of questions and surprisingly burning emotions.

 After this you seemed to have gotten it into your head that Xiao was now primed to be your general confidante. Though this initially ruffled the adeptus, he didn’t truly feel like dissuading you, and by the time he’d gotten over the initial shock of your conversation he decided that your voice was surprisingly nice to listen to, and thus settled quietly enough into his new and strange roll of sympathetic ear.

“I registered for the Guild today,” you were saying today, voice bright with excitement. “It’s funny the lady at the stand, Ms. Katheryne? She didn’t even bat an eye at me! I was sure that I was going to get some questions, but besides the stares nothing happened. I’m supposed to start tomorrow. I have to make sure some supplies get to the quarry. Hopefully I won’t run into anyone there.”

“They will leave you alone. The Guild I’ve heard is a powerful force in Liyue.”

“I hope so! I don’t want my first commission to go wrong. I never thought about what I’d do in my life, beyond the usual village work. It’s exciting to have something new out in front of me.”

Xiao thought that was unbearably peppy of you, but he said nothing. Surprisingly he found himself also wishing that you’d do well.

 Xiao wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, following your commission on wind currents. It was none of his business how things went today, after all what did he care about the affairs of humans, even those who were half adeptus? Still he found himself following you, cursing himself all the while for doing something so stupid.

The usual unshakeable happiness that you seemed to exude seemed to disappear almost the moment you left the Inn, instead replaced with a face grim and jumpy with anticipation. A few times you even turned back, studying the Inn or the sky around it. Sometimes your gaze even seemed to pierce through Xiao, something the adeptus found slightly unnerving. Nevertheless he followed as you continued on your journey, all the while wondering what could cause such a massive shift in your demeanor.

If Xiao had any questions about the extent of the reality of your words they were quickly answered. The atmosphere of the quarry was absolutely suffocating, and you could’ve cut the tension with a blade as you slowly approached the drop off.

The foreman said nothing to you, merely glaring as he approached the balloon that you were accompanying. Scouring the barrels and boxes his scowl deepened and deepened. Turning around abruptly he disappeared into his hut for a moment before coming back out. Gesturing towards to open quarry he glared at you.

“There.”

“Thank you,” you replied, voice suddenly small. “Uhm, where exactly should I put this?”

“You lived with us for how many years and couldn’t be bother to retain a shred of information?” The foreman swore under his breath. “Damned half-creatures like you. Put it in Section 4. Tell the Guild master that I never want to see your face here again.”

You said nothing to that in response, merely continuing on your way. Though Xiao couldn’t help but notice how white the knuckles were on the rope you were using to lead the balloon with.

The hostility didn’t ease up when you walked in. Instead things seemed to grow worse, as men and women stared at you with open disdain. The occasional insult could be heard, but for the most part it was deadly quiet, and your steps seemed shorter and shorter as you approached your given destination. At first Xiao was trying to convince himself that such a spectacle didn’t affect him. After all, what did he care for the strange whims and fears of humans. None of this had anything to do with his contract, and he was under no obligation to help you in such an instance. These thoughts were chipping away however, and before Xiao was entirely aware of what he was doing he found himself lowering himself on the ground.

A chorus of gasps rose up as he emerged from the invisible winds that cloaked him. Standing in front of you Xiao nevertheless didn’t catch your eye, instead focusing his glare on the people around him. At first you stopped, taken aback as well it seemed by his sudden appearance. Almost immediately however your posture seemed to relax slightly, and your pace seemed to go back to normal as you walked towards him, continuing on as he followed you to your destination.

Everything else was done in deadly silence, as you got the paperwork you needed and headed out of the quarry. Xiao said nothing the whole time, merely following a few steps behind you. He half expected you to start chattering again the moment the foreman’s hut exited the field of view, but instead you remained quiet. Still you seemed much less grave than in the morning and though Xiao couldn’t explain why this somehow reassured him. Walking next to you now he found his hand drifting towards you, as if the two were being drawn together by magnets. When your hands finally connected Xiao couldn’t help but think how warm yours were.

 After that a ritual of commission sharing seemed to inexplicably pop up, though how exactly Xiao wasn’t really sure of. At first it had been to make sure there was no repeat performance of the first day, but then it quickly developed into something else, although what that something was Xiao didn’t really know. All he knew was that every morning when you went to leave he’d find himself next to you, frowning grumpily, muttering about how this wasn’t his duty. You were usually groggy in the mornings, but always managed to give his hand a squeeze before embarking.

If Xiao had subconsciously assumed that the mining incident was a standalone thing he was quickly robbed of that conviction. At first it seemed as if everyone was out for you, though in general the reason seemed to be less your status as half illuminated beast and more due to the figure you cut soaring against the sky, wings obviously too big to be a glider. Everyone seemed to be after you. Treasure Hoarders and Fatui Agents would try to shoot at you, though often you were much too high for their weapons; bandits would ambush you, aiming for your feathers as they attacked; even geovishaps and other such creatures seemed weirdly obsessed with going after you.

Though Xiao had told you more than once that it would be faster if you let him dispatch the monsters and knock out the hunters you always forbid him from doing so. It was your work after all, and if you couldn’t do it yourself then you might as well resign. Xiao usually responded to this with grumblings, but he had to admit that a part of him admired your tenacity.

Still it was difficult to sit back and do nothing. It wasn’t your presence that irritated Xiao, it was more everything else. Besides, he felt as if he was neglecting his duties sometimes. Thus when you told him one day that your commission tomorrow was going to see if a citizen had found a ruin network Xiao excused himself. You didn’t seem to mind too much, though you joked that you would miss your adventuring companion. Still the idea of suddenly not going with you seemed strange after weeks of this new routine.

“If you find yourself in trouble, do not forget to call my name. No matter where you are I will hear it.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” you replied, smiling softly. “But it’ll be fine. I probably won’t even need to fight anything, besides maybe some slimes. I might even get back before you.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. I’ll come back as soon as possible, and then maybe we can fly a little together?” For some reason you seemed to like the idea of flying alongside Xiao, who found himself more and more often indulging you, though he wouldn’t really call his use of currents flying.

“Maybe.”

“Good! Then I’ll try to wrap things up quickly. Can’t miss something like that, can I?”

Xiao didn’t say anything in response. Later that evening, after you went to bed, he stared up at the night sky, trying to grasp onto his thoughts. He seemed to be awfully worried about you, or rather you seemed to be invading most of his thoughts. Why Xiao couldn’t tell. At first it had simply been that your strange situation somewhat interested him. He couldn’t imagine the idea of a half-adeptus who had lived as you had. Then it had been the mining, then the commissions, then the gliding. Now he couldn’t even think of the next day without a strange sense of worry.

What did all this mean? Xiao never thought he would find himself infatuated with anyone. His only loyalty was to Morax, his only connections had been with the yakshas who were now lost to him. His only remaining duty was to guard Liyue, to clear the land of the curses that remained. Nevertheless he found himself thinking about you, worrying about you even. What did this mean?

Staring out into the sky Xiao asked himself what he wanted. An image of you seemed to materialize in his brain. You were flying high in the sky, arms stretched out wide, smile as wide and clear as the sky above you. He wanted you to feel that way, and, more than that, in that moment Xiao wanted nothing so more as to share that feeling with you, to be some piece in that vision of happiness. Shaking his head the yaksha let out a snort. What a stupid idea.

 The next day started in a way much more similar to the days that had passed before you arrival. Xiao left early, finding it easier to deal with the lingering evils of the world when there were less people going about to get in the way. He thought of waiting for you to wake up, but for some reason the action seemed foolish. Or maybe it seemed somehow unlucky. After all, Xiao was embarking on a day that would surely have to end with some sort of cleansing ritual.

The monsters weren’t excessive, and the going was fast enough, though the sun had risen high in the sky by the time Xiao stopped to rest. Traveling towards Jueyun Karst Xiao thought of the pool of water up near Cloud Retainer’s domain. It would be good to rest for a moment, up near sure pure energy. Summoning some winds Xiao found himself in a weirdly clear frame of mind, detached once more from the world around him.

Then he heard your voice.

Almost immediately Xiao found himself above you, instinct reacting before his mind had time to catch up. You had never called for him before, and the unexpectedness caused a flood of hot panic to rush through him.

Staring down at the scene above Xiao felt another wave of burning emotion rush through him. You were backed up against a few stones, panic evident in your stance. One of your arms appeared to have suffered a gash, and as of such the claymore Xiao knew you carried lay in the grass next to you, too heavy now to be of any use. You also seemed to have suffered a blow to the head, and your awkward movements seemed to indicate some sort of dizziness. But what drew Xiao’s eye the most was the blood staining the brown of your wings, the feathers that were scattered around you.

The people surrounding you wore the crest of the Fatui, and their smiles were ones of absolute triumph.

“You should’ve flown away. What could a half-baked fighter like you do against the greatest army in the world? Now your wings will decorate the walls of the palace of Snezhnaya.”

You were mute to the Skirmisher’s jeers, your head bobbing to the side slightly. Once more Xiao heard your voice ripple through his head, though this time it was fainter, unsteady. The anger welling up inside of him seemed to ripple, and before he knew it the yaksha found himself standing in front of you, not caring about the black tendrils that licked at his polearm, only coherent thought that the Fatui members should have picked a different assignment.

Xiao despised fighting humans. They seemed to bend around him, shredding like paper. Though a part of him jeered that he was fighting nothing but monsters, the adeptus still pulled himself back. Some burdens were too heavy to bear, and even fighting a human was something that he would normally never do. Still the fight was brutal, if painfully short, and when Xiao finally found himself standing alone he surrounded by the groans and shrieks of those whose injuries would not be forgotten tomorrow.

Taking his mask off Xiao pushed through the tendrils of darkness that were now clinging to his skin. There would be time to bathe and clean off all the evil he’d generated and purified later. For now the adeptus ran over to your side, scooping you up and traveling as quickly as possible to the Inn. The smalls groans that escaped you cut through him, but at least you were alive. At least he had made it in time. At least.

Though there was nothing that the adeptus could really do to cure gashes and a concussion, Xiao found himself unwilling to stray from your side in the aftermath. Pushing away the guilt that threatened to burn through him when he was alone Xiao became a constant figure in your room. Perching no your dresser, or eventually in the chair Goldet dragged next to your bed, Xiao supervised your health with a regiment that would’ve been impossible for a mortal. Yet it didn’t feel like enough, it never felt like enough. Watching over you as you fell in and out of naps Xiao felt the guilt buzzing behind his ears. Your fault, this is your fault.

One evening Xiao found it all too much. Covering his face with his hands he rasped into the silent room.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Whipping his head up Xiao was met with your slightly groggy face. Reaching over to grasp his hand you smiled as the adeptus moved to intertwine his fingers in yours.

“I didn’t go with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. I thought, I thought it’d be easy. But it wasn’t so I called for you and then you came and saved me, so it was fine.” Your voice was heavy with sleep and your words slightly slurred, but there was still some urgency behind them, an urgency Xiao found himself responding to.

“I still wasn’t fast enough.”

“You seemed pretty fast to me.”

“I still, it’s still my fault.” Xiao didn’t know why he found himself repeating the same words over and over. Somehow he seemed completely unequipped to deal with the panic that had been slowly crushing him for the past few days. How could he explain this to you? How could he explain the fear that shot through him, the anger, the… something?

“No, it wasn’t. It’s not your fault that I look strange, or that I have these weird wings. It’s not your fault that people don’t like it.”

“Humans are fools,” Xiao spat out. “They try to destroy something that is beautiful, all because they cannot understand it.”

“You think my wings are beautiful?”

“Yes.” Xiao didn’t realize that was a question. Somehow the looked of sleepy happiness on your face filled him with a sense of embarrassment. Ducking his head the adeptus shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you replied, happiness in your voice. For a moment you paused, before piping up again. “You haven’t been sleeping a lot have you?”

“Sleep is unnecessary for those who are full adeptus.”

“Still, it can’t be fun to sit here alone for hours,” you frowned before scooting over slightly.

Xiao stared at the unspoken invitation for a moment, disbelief mixing into the thoughts that were cramming his head. He said nothing, but as the look on your face dimmed slightly he sighed. Laying his mask on the nightstand the yaksha lay next to you.

You smiled, seemingly satisfied. Linking your hand once more with his you let out a small sigh, before relaxing slightly, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Xiao stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft cadence of your breath. The panic that fizzed through his brain only moments earlier, replaced with a contentment that the yaksha rarely felt. Suddenly everything seemed at peace with the world, and despite the summer heat Xiao felt no more discomfort.

[duckybarnes1917]

What’s Mine Is Yours

Chapter 1: Behave

Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Zemo/Reader, Bucky/Zemo/Reader

18+ Only.

This is a completely self-indulgent fic based on a scene I wrote between Zemo and two original characters for my long fic. I replaced the OMC with Bucky and the OFC with the reader, so yeah it's not really in character but it's fun! If you want to get into the mindset of the relationship between the reader and Bucky, listen to Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey, or really anything off the Ultraviolence album.

Enjoy!

Word count: 2331

Summary: You and Bucky like to get in trouble. When he breaks the handsome Baron Zemo out of prison, a day, and evening, filled with the best kind of trouble is set in motion.

Need to know: Dom/sub undertones, sub reader, orgasm delay/denial, teasing, smut but with feelings, no use of y/n

Please do not copy or post this anywhere. 

Cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad.

Bucky’s breath was enticing as it wafted gently down and around your neck while you waited impatiently for the surprise he had promised. You sat perched in his lap on a workbench in a car garage. The antique cars stretched from one wall to the other, piquing your curiosity. His arms wrapped around your waist as he told you once again to be patient. 

You could feel his anticipation buzzing around him like electricity in the air. 

**

Earlier that day, he had woken you up early, planting excited kisses on your lips and face but not letting it lead to anything else. No matter how much you begged. He had promised he had something more thrilling in store if you helped him with part of a mission, part he wanted to keep secret from Sam.

You knew he didn’t need your help; he was completely capable of working alone. 

He wanted you there by his side—a privilege not afforded to many. And you would give Bucky anything he wanted. 

When you had met a few months ago, the two of you had clicked almost immediately. Yes, you both fought for the good guys, but you also both played it fast and loose with the rules and enjoyed creating a little trouble every now and then. Okay, maybe quite often. But you always got the job done. Everyone was happy in the end. 

You begrudgingly got out of bed and got dressed. Bucky nodded approvingly at your outfit, black jeans, a black cropped t-shirt, and your regular combat boots. He helped you shrug into a leather jacket. As he moved your hair to the side, he placed a gentle kiss on your neck. 

“Good girl,” he whispered against your skin before taking your hand and leading you downstairs. 

You were staying in a ridiculously lavish villa in Berlin. You had secured it from one of your contacts from your undercover days. The accommodations were much nicer than the shoddy hotel Sam had suggested. 

You both snuck past Sam’s room and ran out the door. You climbed onto the back of Bucky’s sleek black motorcycle and wrapped your arms tight around him. The purr of the engine as he took off vibrated between your thighs, reminding you of what he had denied you in bed, and you pressed yourself closer to him. 

**

Now, you sat on his lap, still doubtful that whatever he had planned could possibly be better than getting your fill of him this morning would have been. You were still slightly annoyed that he had left you waiting in the prison halls as he had gone in to talk to Helmut Zemo alone. You had looked forward to meeting him in person. 

Finally, your patience was rewarded, and you jumped off Bucky’s lap as the garage door slowly opened.   

Your eyes widened in surprise, “You didn’t?!” 

You turned to look at Bucky, and he feigned innocence, “I didn’t do anything. This was all Zemo.” 

You knew by the way his eyes glinted mischievously that he had, in fact, done something. As you suspected, he hadn’t needed your help; he just wanted to show off. 

“You’re crazy.” You smiled up at him, and he knew that you were pleased with the surprise. 

He rested his hands on your shoulders as Zemo approached. 

“Zemo, it’s lovely to finally meet you.” You extended your hand. 

“And you as well, my dear.” He gently took your hand and kissed the knuckles. 

“Oh, I like him.” You smiled at Bucky, who looked down at you approvingly. “What’s the plan now?” 

“First, we have to break the news to Sam. Then later tonight, Zemo’s going to help us with another secret mission.” 

**

Sam hadn’t taken the news well but, seeing as there was nothing he could do about it, he didn’t argue much. You were having too much fun to care either way. 

Zemo was strikingly handsome. You loved Bucky’s brooding ruggedness, but Zemo had an elegant, quiet violence about him that pulled you in. Throughout the day, you had entertained yourself by teasing him every chance you got. You kept it subtle, a sultry look as you licked your lips, a brush of your body against his, able to feign innocence when he challenged you on it but working him up all the same. 

Bucky noticed, of course. You sat next to him at the kitchen table, sipping on a martini. Zemo stood across the room, leaning on the kitchen island. You weren’t really listening as Sam and Bucky talked. Your eyes were fixed on Zemo as you slowly sucked an olive off of the skewer you held in your hand. You had his rapt attention. Bucky wrapped his arm around your hip tightly and whispered in your ear, “play nice, doll.”  

You smirked up at him, and he leaned down to kiss you. 

“Sam and I have got to go run a quick errand. Will you be okay here with Zemo until we get back?” 

You licked your lips instinctively and glanced at Zemo, “Yes, I’ll manage.” 

Bucky held your face in his hands, “behave,” he commanded before he left the kitchen to follow Sam outside. 

You watched him go. He knew how to excite you while barely even touching you. That’s why you loved him. 

You turned back around and realized that Zemo had left. You found him in the sitting room, watching tv on the couch. 

“There you are.” Without hesitation, you clicked the tv off and straddled his lap. 

His milky brown eyes widened in surprise, “I was watching that.” 

His quiet accented voice titillated you; you longed to hear your name pass through his lips. 

“Well, I want you to watch me,” your voice was sultry as you moved your hands over the soft cotton sweater that covered his toned chest. 

Zemo swallowed hard as your lips inched closer to his, “I thought you were told to behave.” 

You flashed him a wicked smile before you sighed dramatically. You repositioned, laying across his lap instead, your head resting on the pillow against the arm of the couch. You looked up at him innocently, “that I was Baron,” your tone was one of exaggerated despair. 

Zemo moved his hand to caress your body, but you stopped him. “I don’t think that is appropriate, Baron. I am in a relationship, you know.” 

Zemo looked down at you; his eyes were hungry but curious. He moved his hand back to his side, signaling that he was playing along with your game. 

You gave him a pleased smile, “But surely, it would be okay if you watched me touch myself. Don’t you think?” 

“I see nothing wrong with that,” Zemo whispered roughly as he watched your hand undo the button and zipper on your jeans. 

You swiftly dipped your fingers into your underwear and slowly circled your clit, biting your lip in pleasure. You weren’t just doing this for his benefit; you were wound tight from the excitement of the day. As you quickly worked your fingers in and out of your wet folds, you put on a show for Zemo, making your moans a tad more dramatic than necessary. 

He was itching to touch you, every moan and twitch of your body driving him mad. He balled his hands into fists as he watched your breasts, straining against your tight, low-cut cropped shirt, heave up and down with your ragged breaths. 

“You’re going to kill me,” he groaned. 

You could feel the bulge in his pants against your back and his groan almost sent you over the edge. But you wouldn’t come without Bucky’s permission, and he had explicitly told you to behave. 

The slam of car doors made you both look towards the front of the house. 

You backed yourself off the edge, letting Zemo’s name slip from your mouth, breathy and needy.  

Zemo groaned again, “You know, it’s not very nice to tease a man with something he can’t have, especially one that just got out of prison.” 

You quickly buttoned your pants and sat up, turning towards Zemo, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.” 

You offered your fingers to him, and he sucked them clean greedily. 

He looked truly wounded when you pulled away from him and made your way to the front door to greet Bucky. 

“How did it go?” You chirped when he walked through the door. 

“Fine,” Bucky absently addressed you before continuing the argument he was in the middle of with Sam, “It’s your fault, and you know it.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and kept walking, Bucky made to follow him, but you grabbed his hand, impatient. 

He turned to look at you, the annoyance at Sam melting away as he drank you in, “I’m sorry, doll. Everything went fine, Sam just-” 

You stopped him, wrapping your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him close to you, not caring about the newest argument he was in with Sam. “I need you.” 

Bucky’s demeanor changed as the request crossed your lips. A sly smile grew on his face, and his blue eyes darkened a shade. He leaned down close to your lips, “did you behave?” 

You nodded your head, yes, and his smile grew as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. He looked over at Zemo; he sat stiffly on the couch with his legs crossed, trying to avoid staring in your direction and failing. He looked absolutely wrecked. Bucky looked back at you with a low chuckle, “I’m yours for the taking.” 

You kissed him quickly but passionately before grabbing his hand and leading him towards the stairs. 

Bucky addressed Zemo as you passed him on the couch, “Everything is in place for tonight. We’ll have to wait until Sam passes out to leave. So be ready.” 

Zemo nodded in agreement and quickly looked away as you dragged Bucky upstairs. 

**

Finally, Bucky’s lips were on yours. You inhaled him as if you hadn’t taken a breath since he left your sight. You quickly peeled off his clothes, throwing them around haphazardly. His jacket landed on the settee—his shirt near the bathroom, where yours promptly joined it. You rapidly unbuttoned his jeans and left them in a pile on the floor, next to his shoes, as you pulled him to the bed. You shrugged your own jeans off hastily as he left open mouth kisses along your neck. 

“So needy for me; what’s got you all worked up, doll?” He murmured against your skin as he laid you back on the bed. 

“You,” your breath hitched as his lips worked over your collarbone and then delicately over the top of your breasts. 

His fingers dived into your underwear and trailed along your sensitive folds, drawing a needy moan from your throat. If it was anyone but Bucky, you would have been embarrassed at how desperate you sounded. 

“I don’t think that’s completely true.” Bucky inserted one teasing finger as he continued, “did you get yourself all worked up teasing Zemo?” 

He was driving you crazy; you couldn’t focus on his words; you just wanted him already. “Bucky, please-”

He removed his hand and crawled onto the bed so that his face was over yours, “be a good girl and answer me.” 

“Yes,” you breathed out, the authority in his voice sending bolts of pleasure straight to your center. 

Bucky liked the idea of Zemo wanting you. He knew it was just a game; he would always be who truly wanted.

He ripped your underwear from your body and teased the head of his cock up and down your entrance. You whined as he held your hips down, preventing you from thrusting up to meet him. 

“You know, it’s not nice to tease. You’re going to give him a heart attack, doll.” 

You nodded your head in agreement, and he slowly entered you, making you arch your back. His movements were too slow; you wanted him, all of him, now. 

He continued to hold you down, forcing you to take his agonizingly slow movements. 

He hummed in pleasure as your walls tightened around him, your attempt to get him to move faster. 

“You can dish it, but you can’t take it,” he smiled at you mockingly as he slowed his pace even further. 

“God, Bucky, please, please just fuck me already.” 

He finally complied, his hips snapping into yours steadily as he increased his pace. You wrapped your legs around him, holding him in place as he hit just the right spot over and over again, setting off sparks behind your eyes. 

He dipped down to suck the tender skin on your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his back, feeling the broad muscles contract as he sent waves of pleasure through your body. 

He knew you were already close; he moved his hand down between your bodies and circled your clit. You moaned his name, like music to his ears. 

“Buck, I’m close, please-” you sputtered, still needing his permission. 

“Tell me what you did with Zemo while I was gone.” 

He didn’t let up his pace, and you tried hard to focus on his words. 

“I-oh god, I’m so close, Bucky.”

“Tell me.” He growled, quickly approaching his peak as well. 

“I made him watch me touch myself. I didn’t let him touch me.” The words rushed out of your mouth. “Please,” you begged. 

“Fucking hell, you’re cruel.” Bucky picked up his pace, the image you had painted for him spurring him on. 

“Come for me, doll. I want to feel you.” 

Before he finished speaking, you let go, your orgasm washing over you like a crashing wave, lapping at every nerve in your body. 

Bucky followed right behind, moaning your name into your neck. 

You tangled your hands into his hair and kissed him passionately as you both came back down to reality. 

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly. 

“I love you,” he replied as he pushed your hair out of your face.

Chapter 2     Chapter 3

[sweet-dreamins]

i’m sorry, i missed you (s+f)

○ pairing: kei tsukishima x fem! reader, soft brat tamer kei x bratty reader (who regrets being bratty)

○ word count: 2.8k

○ summary: after a day of being bratty, tsukki finally puts you in your place

○ content: 18+, d/s dynamics, spanking, use of “Sir” as title, brat taming, light angst, crying but no dacryphilia, traffic light safe word system, fingering, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom lskdjk), a bit size kink, creampie, aftercare, happy end :)

○ a/n: this turned out way softer than i originally planned lol but soft tsukki is good tsukki 😌 hope you like it, feedback is greatly appreciated!!

Huffing, you cross your arms and pout, not meeting his gaze. Tsukki looks down at you with a light smirk, amused by your antics. You had been snippy with him since this morning, and at first, he brushed it off, mistakenly assuming you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. However, as the day went on, your remarks only grew more pointed and intentionally provocative.

“I can do this by myself, leave me alone!”

“Ugh, whatever, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Be quiet, Tsukki, you’re so annoying!”

He was letting you get in as many jabs as possible, waiting to see if you would show any sign of remorse and apologize.

You did not.

He knew that you were just acting out because you wanted attention. Plain and simple. He had been pretty busy this week with volleyball practice and his job at the museum. But this was getting ridiculous. You needed to be put in your place. You also needed a little help in getting the truth out.

“It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” You taunt him, mirroring his smirk. He hadn’t said or done anything to correct your behavior all day, so you figured you were going to get away with being bad. You thought if he was going to punish you it would’ve been hours ago after the tenth or fifteenth rude comment came out of your mouth. Before disappointment could settle in, he grabs your face, thumb and index finger digging into your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his stare.

“You want to repeat that, little girl?”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing underneath your skin and in between your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering you had already dug yourself six feet deep. His smirk grows at your quiet submission before throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp of surprise and he slaps your ass in response. You pout at the floor as he carries you to the bedroom, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

The world flips as he throws you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing. You bounce on the softness, your skirt flipping up. He can perfectly see the little wet spot on the center of your pink panties. His smile oozes self-satisfaction as he coos,

“Aww, how cute you’re already wet?”

You look down at your skirt and move to fix it, but he grabs both of your wrists with one hand. He flips your skirt all the way up and cups your clothed pussy. You try not to wiggle against his fingers, knowing that would land you in even more trouble.

“Don’t hide what is mine, understand?”

You swallow thickly and nod, your mouth going dry at the fierceness in his honey brown eyes. He slaps your inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from you. You fight the urge to glare at him, just pouting instead.

“No, you don’t get to be quiet now while you were running your mouth all day.” He looks at you expectantly for your proper reply.

“I understand, sir.” He gives you a small smile of praise, internally surprised at your wise choice.

He leans in closer and gives your cheek a few patronizing pats, “That’s more like it. Besides, I still haven’t decided if I’ll let you cum tonight.”

He lets go of your wrists and sits down next to you. You already know what you have to do. You quietly crawl over to him and lay yourself on his lap. You grab fistfuls of the sheets beneath you in anticipation. He interlocks his fingers and stretches them before rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re going to count every single spank and say thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

One. Five. Nine. With every spank, you can feel yourself getting wetter. You want nothing more than for his hands to wander lower and sink into your pussy. As you count out loud, you run through everything you said to him today. Technically, you got his attention...but you could’ve gone about it in a much nicer way.

You know that you can be a lot to handle sometimes. On the one day this week you spent together, you were nasty to him. He was probably looking forward to spending the day with you, and all you gave him was attitude. You could’ve just told him you had missed him instead of being mean. What if you had said something that actually hurt him? Who’s saying that you hadn’t already gone too far? Maybe you should’ve just been good for him today.

“Twenty! Th-hank you si-ir.” You choke out the final number, trying to catch your breath. He gently massages reassuring circles on your stinging skin. He opens his mouth to ask you what your color is but you interrupt him with a sniffling,

“Ts-suki?”

He knows not to reprimand you for using the wrong name, the weepy tone in your voice giving away your headspace. He softly asks,

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Yellow,” your voice warbly and pitiful.

Kei easily scoops you up into a sitting position so you’re straddling his lap. Now he can see your glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until you went to wipe your face. Your bottom lip wobbles slightly as you try to hold back even more tears. Regret is swirling in your head, while your butt is burning, and your pussy is dripping. Your brain is struggling to comprehend this combination of sensations, turning your thoughts into a tangled mess.

“I’m so-orry I was so me-ean to you today,” you hiccup, rubbing at your tears with balled-up fists but they just don’t seem to stop coming.

“I’ve just been mi-issing you a lot, fuck, I missed y-you so much and I should’ve just to-old you that.” You choke these words out through gasping breaths. You want to let him know everything inside your head, but your body is not cooperating. He pulls down his sleeve, raising it to wipe away your tears.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” You stop trying to force words out of your mouth and slowly inhale, hoping it’ll calm your body. In and out, in and out, slow and soothing breaths, tears falling less and less frequently. Kei reaches for his water bottle and brings it to your mouth, controlling the pace of your drinking, knowing you might end up chugging it. He sets it down once you’ve had enough water and rubs your back. By now your breathing has evened out and new tears have finally stopped falling.

Kei presses a kiss to your forehead and mumbles against it,

“You learned your lesson, huh?”

You nod and hum a wobbly affirmation.

You feel him smile against your skin before he pulls away, looking into your eyes while holding your face with his hands.

“Okay. You gonna be good for me now?”

A beat of silence passes.

“I’m gonna try.”

He throws his head back in laughter and you giggle with him. Hooking his arms under you, he turns around and lays you down on the bed. He hovers above you and brushes the hair out of your face.

“What’s your color?”

After your punishment and crying session, you feel so much lighter, no longer weighed down by your rambling brain.

“Green.” You sniffle and give him a soft smile. He looks over your facial expression, making sure that you’re not lying to him. Once he’s satisfied, he drops to his forearms, caging you in, and kisses you.

Your heart soars as he kisses you desperately. It’s clear to you now that he missed you just as much, if not more. You happily let him take control of the kiss, relaxing into his hold. While he distracts you with his lips, he reaches down between the two of you and starts rubbing at your clit. You break the kiss with a small gasp, arching your back into him, wanting more. Kei grins at your reaction and reaches farther, spreading your lips and gathering slick with his fingers.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaking, is this all because of me?”

You look up at him, and he swears he can see tiny hearts in your eyes where pupils should be.

“Yes, sir, all for you, only for you.” He kisses the tip of your nose as he slips two fingers into your pussy. Slowly thrusting in and out while rubbing your clit with his thumb. As the pleasure builds, you beg him not to stop, worried that your orgasm will be ripped away from you tonight.

But Kei isn’t a monster.

“Shh don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He continues thrusting and scissoring his fingers, stretching you out on his lithe fingers, preparing you for his cock. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, he sucks at the skin. He pulls away to admire you underneath him, marked up and already getting dumber by the second.

His original plan was to edge you for most of the night and ruin your orgasm anyway, but that depended on your post-spanking state. You were obviously regretful of your behavior and already slipping into that cloudy headspace. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you tonight, especially after you had cried your eyes out, so he’s determined to give you at least one good orgasm.

Instead of focusing on reaching your climax, you let yourself focus on how good he’s making you feel. Goosebumps rise all over your body and your head feels even dizzier than before. You let yourself melt into him.

Kei notices just how much you’ve relaxed and feels a pull at his heart. You trust him so much, trusting him to take care of you, your body, and your pleasure. He especially knows how hard vulnerability can be, and yet here you are. Happily giving yourself to him as if it’s second nature to you.

He kisses you again, this time more desperately, trying to get as much of you as possible. He licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue traces over yours gently before sucking on your bottom lip as you whine in response. When he breaks away, a thin string of spit connects the two of you briefly. He reaches behind his neck, swiftly pulling his shirt off and then tugging off his pants.

You keep your eyes glued to his body as you frantically pull off your shirt and bra. How was he so pretty? All you want to feel is his skin against yours. As your gaze travels up his body, the two of you lock eyes to laugh at your frenzied pace.

He settles above you again, kissing you, placing his hands at your sides while gently tracing your skin with his thumbs. He reaches over to grab a condom, but you stop him. With wide eyes you say,

“I want to feel you cum inside, please?”

He lets out a groan and kisses you as an answer. He strokes his cock, smearing pre-cum down the length. Grinding against your pussy, he coats himself in your slick, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. He smirks down at you as little moans spill from your mouth.

All for him.

He lines himself up and looks at you, making sure that you’re ready to take him. You nod desperately, wanting to be completely stuffed. He slowly pushes into you as your mouth drops open. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting both of you get used to the feeling, already panting. Your warm walls hugging him so, so tight, and his cock making you feel so, so full. You stutter out,

“So full! Ah, ‘m so full. Your cock is so big, ‘su-sir!”

He grins at your praise and near slip up.

“Mhm? But you always take me so well, pretty baby.” He lightly presses down below your belly button, feeling and faintly seeing the outline of his cock inside of you. You cry out in pleasure, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. He isn’t even moving and your pussy won’t stop clenching around him. He gives a shallow thrust, pulling a whine from you.

He keeps his pace slow, building in speed and force. Until he is repeatedly slamming into you, nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing deep inside of you, your cries getting louder and louder. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your vision blurring a bit. Kei wraps his arm around your middle as you arch off the bed, deepening the kiss.

You whine against his lips,

“I-I’m getting close, so close, so close! I’m so close!”

“I know baby, let go for me.”

He reaches down with his other hand, still holding you close, to rub frenzied circles into your clit. You shut your eyes tight and your mouth drops open, only whines coming from the back of your throat. Soothing tingles of pleasure shoot throughout your body, your orgasm finally washing over you. You feel as if you’re floating, warmth taking over your body, inside and out. You can barely string together a coherent thought, but then you remember he hasn’t cum yet.

Your pussy still riding out your orgasm, clenches over and over around his cock. Kei nearly growls out,

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

All that’s bouncing around in your fuzzy mind is how badly you want Kei’s cum inside of you. You want it so, so bad, to be filled up with it, for him to paint your insides white, to feel his liquid heat. Your jumbled thoughts fall out of your mouth as you babble,

“Sir, please! Please, please, please, cum inside of me! I want y-you to fill me up, please fill me up with your cum!”

Your broken pleading pushes him over the edge as he shoots his cum inside you, giving one last thrust to nestle himself as deep as possible. You can hear him breathing hard next to your ear, shaky with scattered moans. You can feel his cum filling your pussy, leaking out onto your thighs, nearly throwing you into a second orgasm.

Kei has a brief internal debate if he should pull out or not. If he does, clean up might take a little longer….but then he’ll get to see his cum ooze out of you. He gently pulls out of you, spreading your thighs apart so he can get a proper look. Creamy white oozing out of silky pink walls, your chest heaving and eyes glassy.

Absolutely perfect.

Bonus:

After grabbing a warm towel and boxers, Kei lays down next to you, pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You tangle your legs together and nuzzle into him, pressing a kiss over his heart. He’s glad that you can’t see the ridiculous blush on his face from your simple gesture.

You let out a sigh of contentment, knowing you’re safe in his strong arms.

“I love you, Kei.”

He kisses your temple and rests his chin on top of your head.

“I love you, too. You did wonderfully tonight. ”

A comfortable silence drapes itself around the two of you, like a warm blanket. But of course, Kei being Kei says a little too smugly for your liking,

“I missed you too, you know….I just didn’t need to act out and be a total brat over it.”

“Shut up,” you while with a bashful smile on your face, “I already said I was sorry.” You mumble into his chest with a pout, to which he proudly chuckles.

“I know, I know.”

“Hey, Tsukki?” He hums in response.

“Can we go take a shower now? I’m still kinda...sticky.”

“Fine, but you were the one who was practically begging me to cum inside you, to fill that little pussy up.”

Heat rushes to your face, the post-orgasm clarity arriving in full form, the obscenity of your pleading hitting you like a ton of bricks. You squeal in embarrassment, scolding him, and lightly slap his chest. He laughs and says,

“Yes, we can go take a shower now.”

You let out a rather pathetic cheer, but make no effort to get up.

“....Kei...can you carry me?”

He sighs with such weight, you’d think Zeus had just condemned him.

“If I must.”

He scoops his arms underneath you, picking you up bridal style. You call his name again and he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“Can we take a bath instead?”

“Fine, I guess.” Rolling his eyes, once again acting exasperated.

He sets you down on the counter as he grabs towels and turns on the water.

“Oh, and can we do a bath bomb?”

He leans down to look at you, eyebrows quirked up as if to say ‘Really?’. You give him a big smile and the best puppy dog eyes you can muster.

“Pleeease?”

He gets even closer until your noses are touching, still giving you that smirk and golden eyes of mirth. You feel your cheeks heat at his closeness. He gives you a quick kiss, whispering against your lips,

“You’re lucky you’re cute, brat.”

[hford0311]

Welcome Back

*College age Peter Parker and Stark Reader-- 1.7K Words*

*Where Peter and Tony Stark's daughter meet up again at her welcome back party, and escape from the boring atmosphere*

"You know we're having a welcome home party for you tonight," Tony said as he leaned against your door frame. "Dad, you really don't have to. I mean it's not necessary." You replied and continued to put your stuff away in their proper locations. Tony scoffed, "You got straight As, and I never got a call from a hospital on your twenty-first birthday. You deserve it." You chuckled and rolled your eyes, "Okay, Dad...well, then can you at least tell me who's all coming to this party?" You questioned. Tony shrugged, "The usual crowd. Parker's going to be there too." You looked up from your boxes, "I forgot about Peter, is he balancing Spider-Man and college?" You respond. Your dad nodded, "Yeah, he's doing great. You guys should catch up tonight." You gave a quick laugh. "What? You should," he got defensive. "Dad, he never talked to me for more than ten minutes when I used to see him almost on a daily." You said then added, "I mean it's not like neither of us tried to talk to each other, it just never worked out like someone," you glanced up at Tony, "wants us to." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry that I want the two age appropriate people to be friends." You chuckled back at his remark. He looked around the room again, "Alright, well, I'll leave you to unpacking and see you later." You nodded and waved him away.

You sighed at the memories of Peter that filled your head. "Peter Parker, the son my dad never had, and apparently wants me to be just friends with," you spoke to yourself. You blew a raspberry and continued to unpack all of your belongings in your room.

***

You knew your father's welcome back parties. They were fancy, well most of your dad's party were. These party just had more of a focus on you; thus, you had to look nicer than the other parties.

Hair curled, make-up finished, you began to dress for your night. You saved the tight, off-shoulder maroon dress for a special occasion like this. You took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror one last time. "Alright, let's smile for the crowd." You told yourself and practiced your glamorous party smile for when your supposed to walk down the steps for everyone to look at you. It was the most main character action you have done ever since your sixteenth birthday party. Yes, sometimes it was unnecessary, but you did it all for your dad.

You repeated the same action you have years for now, never any less anxiety feeling with everyone's eyes on you after Tony announced your presence. However, you managed to do it all with grace. You waved to the adoring crowd with your royal wave and managed to walk down the steps in your high heels without effort. Your eyes kept meeting Peter Parker's along the way. It felt different than your first time when he came to one of your celebrations. He didn't quickly look away shyly, he kept looking at you this time. You tried to keep your eyes moving around the group of people while only having a few more steps to go, even though it felt like an eternity.

When you reach the floor, you took an invisible sigh of relief. Everyone seemed to form into their groups and continue conversing again. Your eyes caught Steve standing by himself at the bar. You shyly smiled and walked over to him. "You need to stop getting older," he smiled and hugged you. Steve always reflected on how much you grown physically and mentally from the time he has known you. It was comforting. Conversation was light. You knew most of them would be tonight with you, but you didn't mind. That's how your night mostly went. Walking around, or people walking up to you and talking. The conversations were incredibly repetitive. Apparently, when your in college there are three things people want to know: what you want to be after you graduate, where you want to move to, and if you are dating anyone. Boring and dull after the twenty-some time explaining.

You huffed after getting away from the pair of people you were talking to, now that you returned to the bar and made yourself a strong drink. Nat looked at you with raised eyebrows as you quickly drank it then made another one. "Having a good time, Y/n?" She questioned. You rolled your eyes, "If people could give me different questions to answer in conversation I might," you responded and took a sip of your drink. You noticed Tony wave you over while he stood by another group of people. You nodded and made your way over there. You were tempted to lie to away from the group. However, you didn't have to.

Peter tapped you on the shoulder. For once, you were truly delighted to see him. "Can I have a dance?" He questioned. You didn't even look at your father or anyone else in the group. "Please," You stated and started walking away with him, leaving your empty glass on a nearby surface. During the waltz, Peter talked to you, actually talked to you unlike most there. "I saw how bored you were, and I needed to save you." He stated as he led. You lightly chuckled, "Thank you for that. Are you getting the same questions too?" You responded. "Most likely," he said. You both joked about how dull the parties could become, and how really neither of you partied while you were in school. The two of you caught up and really got to know one another in the process.

At some point you caught the pair of you laughing as you never have before. You then gave him a curious look. "Peter," he raised his eyes as a response with anticipation for your words, "why have we never talked like this before," you lightly chuckled during the questioned. He shook his head, "I have no idea," he also laughed. It caught the attention of many others in the room. You looked around the room. "Looks like we're the life of the party," you smirked. "Well, the party is for you," Peter casually reminded you. You groaned and put your head on his shoulder, "What if I don't want it to be though?" He continued to sway back and forth, "Little late for that." You raised your head with a huff, "Don't remind me." Then, an idea popped in your head. You looked around the room and saw the attention diffused from the two of you.

"What do you say we get out of here," you questioned with excitement. He gave you an inquisitive look, "I don't think you can leave your own party." You shook your head, "Trust me, I've done it before. We just leave for about an hour and get away from all the noise." You reassured him. He agreed you and allowed you to lead him to a secret escape you had used for years now that led to the quiet upstairs.

You giggled as you led him in your room. "I can't believe I'm doing this, I mean Peter Parker is in my bedroom." You laughed and sat on the bed. "Not like I haven't been in here before, Y/n," he simply said, a little more sober than you. You scoffed, "Yeah, with my dad's permission you have, but you don't tonight." You watched him closely observe the details of your bedrooms. "You've changed," you pointed out. His head turned towards you, "W-what do you mean?" His voice in slight shock. You stood up next to him, very close, actually closer than the two of you when you were dancing. Your noses were almost touching.

"You're different," you stated and played with the end of his tie. "You're not that nervous and jittery kid that used to look away from me when we made eye contact." You explained. "Yeah, I guess I have," he exhaled. "Have I?" You looked up at him. "I-I mean, I guess, yeah," he cleared his throat and his cheeks changed to a tint of pink. "In a good way?" You softly spoke. Peter quickly nodded, "Y-yeah, I-I say so, Y/n. We've both grown up." You softly chuckled at his response. "Grown up," you repeated on an exhale, "I'd hate to do that. I want to stay just like this, you know what I mean?" You questioned. "I-I guess," he responded and placed his forehead on yours. "Be like Peter Pan," you breathed, "stay young forever with others that want to do the same." You softly kissed Peter at the end of your breathy sentence. His lips were soft. You melted into him, draping your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling. His arms wrapped around your waist. Both of your lips continued to unite together as did the rest of your bodies get closer.

"Eh-hem," Tony loudly cleared his throat to end the kiss. You drew away with a deep breath. The lovely moment taken away from your father. "Some guests want to see the guest of honor," Tony stated in stern tone. You looked into eyes, almost forgetting what he was talking about, "Um-yes, I'll -yeah- go down right away." You struggled to form the sentence before scattering back down the stairs. Tony gave Peter a questioning look, "Do I want to know to ask what happened?" He crossed his arms. Peter flattened his lips and shook his head. "Remember, Y/n is my daughter. So if she breaks, I break you." Tony stated. Peter nodded, continuing not to make eye contact. "So just don't break her," he said in more of a casual tone and uncrossed his arms. Peter looked up him with curiosity and confusion. "No, I'm not forbidding anything," Tony said with a light scoff. "I've just been waiting for it to happen." He added with a hint of a smile. Peter nervously smiled. "Just don't mess this up," Tony stated before walking back to the party, leaving Peter in shock from all of the events. "I just kissed Y/n Stark!"

[spacexcowgirl]

Control - G.W.

George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Both Y/N and George don’t like to give up control.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Switch!reader & switch!George, slight hair pulling, slight choking, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, consensual fight for dominance, I don’t think anything else?

A/N: I haven’t written in like a month. Did anyone ask for this? No. Honestly, almost 100% of the ideas for this fic came from @parseltongueswriting​ & I maladaptive daydreaming and them making me thirsty for George. Pictures are from Pinterest.

I have not included all of my general taglist, because I do not know who is 18+ or who wants to be tagged in smut. If you would like to be added to my NSFW taglist and are above the age of 18, please message me.

George laid with his head rested against Y/N’s chest, his arms trapped beneath her as they snaked around her waist. The two had been watching a movie for a little over an hour, a tradition they had picked up when they first moved in together. While their lives were hectic and their schedules often conflicted, they always were sure to make time for one another in some capacity. And one of the ways they did that was their weekly movie night. 

Y/N rhythmically ran her fingers through George’s long red hair, detangling any knot she came across. He had been growing it out for a few months now, and while Molly was anything but happy, Y/N loved it on him. It gave him a ruggedly handsome look, and it set him apart from his twin brother. Not to mention, he looked absolutely divine when her fingers were threaded through his long red locks as his head was trapped between her thighs.

Y/N sat up a bit as she focused in on the scene unfolding, almost completely ignoring the groan that left George’s lips as he shifted to get comfortable once more. Without giving it much thought, she gave a gentle tug to his strands of hair, never letting her eyes leave the screen. She hadn’t meant anything by the small action, nothing more than a soft pull to stop his whining. Regardless of her intent, the result had her freezing in place. Almost inaudibly, Y/N heard the sound of a soft whimper, not out of pain, but desire. Her mind went momentarily blank, void of the movie or anything else for that matter. Then, as a warmth spread to her core, her only thought became pulling that sound from him again.

“Do you like that, baby?” Her voice was silky smooth, an air of teasing and amusement taking over as a smirk spread across her face.

From her position angled slightly above him, she could see the way his eyes rolled back slightly as his breathing became a bit more shallow. Her hand began to move once more, tricking him into believing she’d pull once more, only for her to light scrape at his scalp, awaiting a response.

“Please.” George whispered, his eyes screwed shut. He wasn’t sure why such a small action had such an effect on him, but something about it mixed with her teasing had him worked up already.

Y/N traced a finger from his hair down the side of his face, taking her time to outline his jaw. She felt him shiver against her, causing her smirk to widen. She wasn’t always in control, but when she got George like this he was always putty in her hands. She slowly traced down the column of his neck, then along his collar bone, before gripping his shoulder gently and pushing him forward into a sitting position. Within seconds, she had swung her legs over his, straddling his lap. Her hands wound around his neck, her fingers landing in his hair as she hurriedly pressed her lips to his.

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was their quiet pants and moans over the sound of the movie. It was taking all of George’s control not to grip Y/N’s hips and grind against her, because he wanted to be good.. His willpower was slowly diminishing, though, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

Y/N trailed her mouth down to his jaw, leaving wet kisses in her wake. As she found the sweet spot on his neck, she began to suck lightly and give her hips one languid roll, reveling in the gasp she’d pulled from his lips. Without really thinking, he bucked his hips up into hers, desperate for any sort of friction and relief. The feeling was bliss for one single moment, before he opened his eyes and was met with the dark look overtaking Y/N’s face. He’d fucked up.

“For fucks sake, I haven’t even gotten you out of your clothes yet. Looks like someone can’t be patient, hm?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, leaning her body away from him. “Is that what my baby wants, to get himself off?”

“N-No.” George stuttered out, growing desperate as the likelihood that Y/N would punish him grew stronger.

“Well, bad boys don’t get a choice, do they?” Y/N tutted, feigning pity as she looked at him. “Go on, get yourself off. Rut against me like the desperate boy you are.”

George looked frustrated, knowing he was losing this battle. He bit down harshly on his lip, his brain filled purely with lust and nothing else. It was a split-second decision, something he’d never done when in this position before. Normally, when Y/N was dominant, he submitted completely, save for a few moments of lost control. But now, something in him broke, and he couldn’t take orders any longer.

Before Y/N could truly process what happened, George had their positions reversed. He had used his grip on her hips to stand and lay her down on the couch with him hovering over her. His face no longer held that pitiful desperate look, but rather his eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. Y/N wasn’t ready to give in so easily, but she couldn’t deny that him taking control out of a pure need for her had her turned on. She cleared her throat, ignoring the way his tongue absentmindedly darted out to wet his lips and his muscled arms pinned her below him.

“I’m in control.” Y/N’s voice was weak, and even she didn’t believe it in her own ears.

“Yeah?” George chuckled. He removed one hand from where it was holding him up, placing it around her neck and gently squeezing. “Are you?”

Y/N gulped, but George gave her no time to respond before crashing his lips onto her’s. There was no more taking their time, George was moving hurriedly, like he couldn’t get close to her quick enough. Their mouths moved sloppily together, but neither of them had it in them to mind. George was quick to tear Y/N’s t-shirt and sweatpants from her body before leaning back to lift his own shirt over his head. He took a moment to admire her, a small smirk coming to his face as he watched her chest heave, her hair a mess, and her eyes desperate. She was beautiful like this.

George leaned forward once more, pressing his lips to hers softly for the first time that night. The action brought butterflies to her stomach and a smile to her face, but it wasn’t long before the passion returned. 

George kissed down her neck, taking a moment to suck and bite at the skin of her breasts as his hands slid behind her back to undo the clasp. He tossed the garment aside, taking a few moments to kneed and suck at her boobs before continuing his trail of kisses down her torso. Y/N spread her legs in anticipation, only for him to pepper her inner thighs with kisses, completely ignoring the spot where she needed him most.

Y/N wouldn’t give in the way he had, she couldn’t. Instead, she simply bit her tongue, focusing in on the way his finger was tracing the hem of her panties, never getting quite close enough to her clit. She needed some sort of friction, some sort of relief, but she would have to be patient.

Once George realized she was being stubborn and wouldn’t submit to begging anytime soon, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her clothed clit, pulling a soft moan from her lips. It wasn’t much, but she was aching and desperate for him. 

George was slow in his movements, deliberately teasing her as he hooked his fingers under the hem of her panties and drug them down her legs. Y/N expected more teasing afterwards, but was relieved with quite the opposite. George had quickly leaned forward and licked a stripe up her slit, causing her to moan loudly. He was relentless in his pace, alternating between licking at her core and sucking on her clit. Her back arched off the couch, her fingers threading through his hair in the way he loved so much. 

“Feels s’good, Georgie.” Y/N moaned, her mind clouded with only the feeling of his mouth against her core. She gave an involuntary tug to his hair, causing him to moan. The vibration reverberated through her core, causing her to arch further and tug again. “Right there, keep going. Please please please.”

Y/N begged, feeling her orgasm beginning to build in her lower stomach. As pleasure filled every vein in her body, all she could think was this must be what heaven feels like. She was so close, just another moment with George’s expertise tongue and she would—

And then he stopped. 

George pulled back, knowing Y/N well enough to know when she was on the brink of cumming. He wouldn’t let that happen, not after the way she had teased him earlier. Y/N groaned and withdrew her hands from his hair to cover her face, feeling nothing but frustration as her orgasm slowly slipped away.

“Is something wrong?” George feigned ignorance, looking at her with a raised brow. “Oh, did you expect me to let you cum? Oh, you sweet baby,” George jutted his bottom lip out, pretending to pity her. “After what you pulled earlier, really?” 

“Georgie, please, I’m sorry.”

“What was it you said to me earlier?” George pretended to ponder, tapping a finger to his chin. “Ah, that’s right. Go on, get yourself off, was it?”

Y/N whimpered, the fear of George leaving her in this state beginning to creep in. She needed him. 

“You’re lucky—” George paused to stand up from the couch, then slowly pulled down his sweatpants. “—That I’m a lot nicer than you.”

His boxers went down next, his fully hard cock springing up as he pulled them down. Y/N sat up and leaned forward, prepared to pleasure him next, but he was quick to grab her wrist.

“Remember who’s in control, yeah?” 

George pumped his length a few times before taking his place between her spread legs once more. He leaned forward to kiss her lips, smirking slightly at the small moan that escaped them. When he pulled away, he leaned down towards her ear. 

“Are you ready, princess?” He whispered, causing a shiver to shoot down her spine.

“Yes.” Y/N’s voice was small, but her affirmation was all he needed to grip his cock and slowly guide himself inside of her.

He wanted fast pace, he wanted to ruin her, but he would have to start slow, because he never wanted to hurt her. Y/N moaned as he slowly filled her up, her eyes rolling back as he stretched her to a point she thought she’d split in half. He gave her a moment to adjust, waiting for her whimpers to subside before hitching her legs around his waist and slowly pulling back out. At first he took his time, before losing his patience and setting a steady rhythm.

Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as his hips continually met her own, his eyes set on her face the entire time. She was a masterpiece to him, even as she came undone. His dick continually grazed the spot inside her that made her see stars, and she wasn’t sure how long she would be able to hold her orgasm in.

“Right there, fuck,” She groaned, her mouth falling open as she finally looked up at him.

“Do you like that, baby?” He mocked, hitting a particularly hard thrust against her. “Touch your clit, princess. You’re still going to get yourself off.”

Y/N didn’t have the mental capacity to complain, so she simply obliged. Although her hand was shaky, she slid it between their two bodies and her fingers quickly began to rub circles at the bud. George’s eyes were trained down to their core, entranced by the sight of him disappearing inside of her and her hand bringing her so much pleasure. He loved knowing that ultimately he was what was getting her off. Even if he made her do the work as punishment, thoughts of only him were clouding her mind. The thought alone had him close to cumming, and his thrusts began to grow sloppy as he groaned.

“Come on, princess, I need you to cum.”

With one more thrust and the continuing rhythm of her fingers, Y/N was arching her back off the couch and cumming. Her eyes rolled back as George whispered dirty praises down to her, his own orgasm not far behind. George buried his head into the crook of her neck as he thrust fully inside of her, filling her up with his cum. Y/N’s fingernails dug marks into his biceps at the feeling, finding herself in a state of complete bliss.

After they’d both come down from their highs, George slowly pulled out and leaned back against the opposite side of the couch, needing a moment to catch his breath.Y/N was the first to move, sitting up shakily to crash against his torso, craving his warmth and comfort more than anything else. George wanted to chuckle or tease her, but the though of her wanting nothing more than him had his heart swelling, so he opted to pull her closer instead.

“George?” Y/N spoke after a minute.

“Yeah, angel?” 

“I’m really in control next time.”

As George chest continued to heave, all he could do was chuckle and nod.

[writing-in-april]

Occupied

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader get caught by one of their co workers in a bar bathroom after Reader couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

A/N: This is the 1st of my 7 fics 7 days in a row for my 500 follower celebration! Thanks again for 500! Here’s another smut that’s in a clandestine spot lmao this’ll be my second public smut in a row plus I have one more already written that’s coming in like two weeks😂 Thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins who helped me get the ball rolling early on with dialogue and @definitelynotkatesblog for the original prompt!

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, Public sex, Unintentional edging, Humilation, Getting caught, Derek being Derek, Established relationship

Masterlist Word count: 1.5k

Sneaking off to go fuck your boyfriend in a bathroom at a bar was a little sleazy but, I had been desperate all day to find some alone time. The team had just finished a grueling case and I wanted nothing more than to order Spencer to rail me into next week. However, my plans had been dashed by Emily who had suggested we all go out to a bar to release the tension of the week before flying home in the morning.

We were all sitting in a booth at the bar that was a little too small to fit all of us and as a result I was practically sitting on Spencer’s lap, which was not helping my desperation at all in the slightest. Every so often he’d shift underneath me whether to get more comfortable or to pick up the Arnold Palmer he had been casually drinking. Each time he shifted I felt my panties dampen just a little more. This was tortuous.

My moment of opportunity came to me when Spencer lifted me off of his lap and said he was going to the bathroom. The bathroom doors were just hidden out of view from the table, so if I got up as well to go ‘to the bathroom’ no one would know if I followed in after him or dragged him into the woman’s bathroom. I quickly excused myself from the table as well after waiting a small amount of time to not arouse suspicion.

Normally, I’d choose the latter and pull him into the woman’s bathroom as it's universally known that they’re nicer. But, I had to switch to plan B when I saw that the ladies room was crowded with people.

I quickly checked my surroundings before slipping into the guy restroom. When I entered it was completely deserted besides Spencer, who was washing his hands at the sink. When he looked up into the mirror and spotted me behind him he spun around quickly with his eyebrows raised. I didn’t give him any time to respond before pulling him into the nearest stall.

“Y/N?! What are you doing?” He squeaked loudly as I reached forward to palm him through his slacks while reaching behind me to lock the stall door, I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Now fuck me.” I said before slipping my shirt over my head revealing my bare chest to him. I sensed some hesitation from him, maybe because we had never done something so clandestine this close to our coworkers before. “Please… It’s not like we haven’t done something like this before.” A switch must have flipped in Spencer at my reference to our last dalliance that we had had in a risky location (That had happened at a park).

“You better keep quiet unless you want our coworkers to hear how desperate you are.” He said with venom in his voice while pulling up my skirt, dipping his hand immediately underneath my panties to run teasing circles on my clit and enveloping me into a harsh kiss. Pleasure started to overtake me, loving the way that he had suddenly ripped any sort of dominance of the situation from out of my fingers, but it wasn’t enough to get me anywhere near the edge of an orgasm. I whined in frustration at his antics so he tried to move his fingers away from my clit to finger me. Instead of letting him I bat his hand away, I was more desperate for something else, “I’m already wet enough I promise- just hurry up.” He looked a little irritated at the fact that I gave him an order but still obliged me by quickly freeing his cock. His pants were only opened just enough to free him but it still gave me a good look at his hard cock that did wonders to me. He hooked one of my legs around my waist and started to tease his cock between my folds. I whined pathetically once it had gone on too long for my tastes which he let out an annoyed grunt in reply.

Then with no warning he pushed into me, filling me swiftly all the way to the hilt. Pure euphoria coursed through my veins when he immediately started thrusting giving me no time to adjust to his considerable size. Even though we slept together quite often and had a healthy sex life, every time his size still took some getting used too.

He started to whisper into my ear about how pretty I looked for him when I was desperate and all I could come up with as a response was a high pitched Yes that was probably way too loud. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to try and muffle any other sounds that tried to escape while Spencer started to nip at my collarbone to stifle his somewhat now unable to say anything else into my ear because of the pleasure he was receiving.

The way that Spencer then pitched his hips in conjunction with the tight circles he started to rub into my clit again my release was hurtling toward me faster than I ever thought possible. My legs were shaking violently and if he hadn’t been there to partially prop me up I’d have probably melted into a puddle onto the floor. Though, unfortunately the sweet feeling of euphoria I was headed towards was dashed away just by a few words.

“I’m pretty sure the bathroom stall you’re in is supposed to have a maximum occupancy of one.” Suddenly was said loudly cutting right through the breathy moans from the two of us, we both immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Derek. Spencer let out a high pitched squeak and then froze up like a statue as soon as he had heard the voice reverting back to the shy Spencer we were all used to. The both of us hadn’t even heard the door open to caught up in our personal pleasure.

“That’s very ableist of you Derek.” My sudden nonchalant response came after a brief pause to Derek walking in on the two of us seemed to embarrass Spencer as his face had turned a dark shade of red. I moved my hands from Spencer’s shoulders into his hair to try and soothe his embarrassment. Though, I still decided to give Derek one last quip before shooing him out of the bathroom. I had been so close to finishing plus he had embarrassed poor Spencer, he could deal with some embarrassment himself from my words.“Sometimes you need two people. Right now was not one of those times but, you wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t heard me.”

I must have stunned Derek into silence because for a good 30 seconds there was silence on his end. Though, I never really ended up getting a full response from him. Instead, he gave us what could only be described as a mortified slash apologetic grunt; then leaving the room quickly afterwards not even bothering to care if the door slammed hard on the way out. I don’t think he was expecting that response from me.

Getting redressed took almost no time seeing as the only article of clothing either of us had removed was my top. In the hopes of Derek keeping his mouth shut Spencer and I decided to walk out separately. I paced in the small stall as much as I could in the small space while waiting for my turn to leave, hoping that no one would come in here or see me leave, but most importantly that Derek didn’t say anything.

“Well you took a long time.” Emily remarked slyly to me once I had slowly walked back before lowering her voice and continuing.”I’m assuming when Derek went to see where you to had gotten too he got an eyeful”

I flashed Derek a harsh gaze, assuming he had told everyone at the table. Though, I dropped it once Emily quietly pointed out to the hickey that had sprouted on my collarbone. However, my annoyance had not abated, my clit was throbbing, begging for attention after it had been cruelly toyed with

I was sure the teasing would all come tomorrow on the plane once Derek got over his residual embarrassment and everyone wasn’t so buzzed. I gritted my teeth in frustration, if I hadn’t been desperate before I sure was now after having my release stolen from me. Though, I was even more frustrated that Spencer seemed to be doing just fine. Throughout the rest of the night all I could think about was what Spencer could do to me when we finally got back to our hotel room. I wish Hotch had let us take an extra car so I didn’t have to wait. When we finally got in the car to drive back I was vibrating with anticipation all over again I couldn’t wait until we found someplace that was less occupied.