#curvy reader

[winters-doll]

𝙃𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝘼𝙨𝙨

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝘂𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶!, 𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴,𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗵𝗶𝘀), 𝗽𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 (𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹, 𝗺𝗮,𝗺𝗮𝗺𝗮) 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝘅𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻,𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗵𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶! 𝗖𝘂𝗿𝘃𝘆/𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗰 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝘵𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘢𝘴𝘴

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 🎀 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎. 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎. 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑱𝒐𝒍𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

🎀”𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪,” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

🎀 “𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥,” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩. 𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯. 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦.

🎀𝘙𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵. 𝘈 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭. “𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪!” 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭. “𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦.” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭

🎀 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ��𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘰…𝘳𝘢𝘸. “𝘊𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢,” 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴. 𝘈 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘵.

🎀 𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.

🎀𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯. “𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺…” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘈 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

🎀𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥. “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,” 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺.

🎀 “𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯.” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚

🎀 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘥. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴,”𝘚𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢, 𝘮𝘩𝘮.” 𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘫𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵.

𝘚𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥

𝘚𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘸

𝘈 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦. “𝘖𝘩!” 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘸��𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘱, 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘓𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺.

𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘥. “𝘉𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦.” 𝘖𝘩 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘐𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. “𝘔𝘮, 𝘺𝘦𝘴.” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘭, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘵, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘈 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨. “𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰.” 𝘏𝘪𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘒𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯’𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺

𝘚𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺

𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴. “𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥.” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘫𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘋𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯. “𝘖𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘺𝘦𝘴” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺.

“𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘵.” 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 ��𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚

A/N: whew! that man so nasty ohmylooord. This is my first toji drabble btw. Watcha think? My request are open for my good girls who like to get slutty for their daddy~

[buckets-and-trees]

What would happen if It Fit Too Right!Steve showed up for a filthy booty call only to find you a pathetic sick mess burrowed in bed and near delirious with a fever? 🥺

Wifey, you dropped this in my box last June, and I have known EXACTLY what would happen since then, and I've been just waiting to share (since I decided to post the pieces somewhat corresponding to the time of year they would happen).

I Felt More When We Played Pretend

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: April 30, 2018. See above.

Content/Warnings: illness, breaking and entering

Author Note: It was a year ago this week that I wrote the very first drabble for this duo! And then they evolved into a full series. Can you believe it? I feel like they're such a deep part of my writer heart and a constant fixation of my muse.

Previous Part | Series

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You jerked awake with a start, feet tangled in the throw blanket you'd cocooned yourself in earlier. Your feet are burning up, sweaty and uncomfortable. With a groan, you kicked the blanket off, shivering slightly as the cool air hit your overheated skin. You groaned as the motion triggered a coughing fit that scraped at your already raw throat.

The television was still playing in the background, Paul Hollywood critiquing someone's focaccia with that stern look of his. Bread week. It had definitely been cake week cake week when you were last awake and somewhat coherent. But you could tell it was at least still afternoon light coming in through your windows. 

You reached for the half-empty mug of tea on the coffee table. It was stone cold, but you drank it anyway, grimacing slightly. This cold had knocked you flat for nearly a week, leaving you in a perpetual state of exhaustion and congestion, still nowhere near feeling human. 

You ran a hand through your greasy hair, wincing at how disgusting it felt. But not feeling human, a shower hadn’t been something you’d pursued in days, wandering from your bed to the couch and then the bed again as you simply rotated where you took your exhausted shifts of sleeping, only downing cold medicine and a myriad of typically-useful home remedies. 

You reached for the tissue box on the coffee table, pulling out the last one and blowing your nose with a sound that would make anyone cringe. The pile of used tissues beside you was embarrassingly large. You should really clean up, but the thought of moving hovered on the edge of possible but also too exhausting. You sighed and willed yourself to actually look at the pile to assess how much longer you could let it pile up. 

Only it was gone. 

One lone tissue only there - the one you’d just dropped. 

Your frowned. 

You tilted your head. 

Your brain was fuzzy and slow. 

Where did your disgusting pile go?

A clatter from somewhere else in your apartment made you tense. You were absolutely certain you'd been alone all day, all week even. Your muddled brain tried to make sense of this. Who else would be here? You have no roommates. Had you called someone? Had your mom learned you were sick, made a roadtrip to take care of you, and somehow gotten a key to your place? 

You heard more noises from the kitchen, and your heart started hammering in your chest because another foolish thought crossed your cold-addled thoughts…

And then that thought appeared before your eyes.

“Hey invalid,” he greeted, and Steve came into the living room, holding a tray. 

You burst into tears. 

The suddenness of your emotional reaction seemed to catch you both off guard. The sob that escapes you is so sudden it triggers another coughing fit. You cover your mouth with your elbow, shoulders shaking as you try to catch your breath through the tears and coughing.

"Whoa, hey," Steve soothed, quickly setting the tray down on the coffee table. The ceramic mugs clinking against the wood as he sunk onto the couch beside you, one large hand coming to rest on your back. "Easy, breathe."

You couldn’t answer, your tears mixing with your already congested sinuses until you were a snotty, hiccuping mess. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. 

You shook your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. "It's not that," you managed.

It was mortifying. You were sick, disgusting, and now a blubbering mess in front of this man who kept appearing in your life like some beautiful ghost. You haven't seen him in weeks, and he shows up now? When you're at your absolute worst? It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," you said, sniffling. "I'm just—I'm disgusting right now." 

Steve's hand continued to rub soothing circles on your back. His touch was gentle, so at odds with how he usually handled you. 

"You're sick," he corrected, his voice soft. "Not disgusting." 

You looked up at him through watery eyes. He was as perfect as ever—that irresistible beard, hair neatly combed, wearing a simple gray henley that stretched across his broad chest. Meanwhile, you were in the same ratty t-shirt and sweatpants you'd been wearing for at least three days, hair unwashed, face puffy from crying and congestion.

"I made you some soup," Steve said, nodding toward the tray. Soup and tea. 

You hiccuped, trying to gather yourself. "I just... I didn't expect to see you. And I'm a mess and I feel horrible and..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely at yourself. 

Steve's expression softened. "You think I care about that?"

You couldn't meet his eyes. "This isn’t what you came here for.” You reached for another tissue, because even though you had stopped sobbing you were still crying, so exhausted from being ill, so overwhelmed by him being here. “I can’t bear you seeing me like this. I haven’t showered in days. I can hardly… I’m so tired, and I just–”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” he firmly interrupted you, voice soft but firm. He cupped your cheek in his hand, turning your face up to look at him. “I came here to spend time with you, and that’s what I’m doing."

Your breath hitched at his words. This wasn't the Steve who fucked you against walls and made you scream his name. This was something else entirely. You searched his face for any sign he was just being polite, but found none. Only genuine concern reflected in those impossibly blue eyes.

"You're really not here for..." you gestured vaguely, unable to even say the word 'sex' in your current state.

Steve shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not everything has to be about that."

He reached for the mug of tea on the tray, passing it to you. The warmth seeped into your palms, the steam carrying the scent of honey and lemon to your clogged nostrils. You took a tentative sip, the hot liquid soothing your raw throat.

"This is good," you murmured, taking another sip. The honey coated your throat, bringing blessed relief. 

Steve watched you with an expression you couldn't quite read. "I wasn't sure if you had food in the house. I brought groceries." 

You blinked, processing his words slowly through your congested haze. "You... brought groceries?" 

He nodded, reaching for the bowl of soup. "Chicken noodle. Nothing fancy, but it should help." 

Your fingers trembled slightly as you accepted the bowl, warmth seeping through the ceramic and into your palms. The steam rising from the broth carried the comforting aroma of chicken, herbs, and vegetables. Your stomach rumbled in response—when was the last time you'd eaten a proper meal? 

"Thank you," you whispered. The domesticity of it all was so jarring compared to your usual encounters, you truly didn’t know what to think.

Steve settled beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel his warmth but not touching. The British baking show continued playing in the background as you cautiously spooned the soup into your mouth. The flavors burst on your tongue, a well-seasoned chicken broth, tender vegetables, soft noodles. It was exactly what your body needed.

"This is really good," you said between spoonfuls. "Did you make this?" 

Steve nodded. "It's my mom's recipe. Well, as close as I can remember it." 

The mention of his mother surprised you. Steve rarely spoke about his past, especially not the distant past before the war and the ice. You glanced at him, curious. 

"She used to make it whenever I got sick," he continued, his eyes distant with memory. "Which was pretty often, before the serum." 

You were struck by the moment, but continued eating the soup. 

"How long have you been sick?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

You took another spoonful of soup, not realizing how much you needed it after days of barely eating. "Almost a week," you admitted. "It hit me hard Wednesday night."

Steve frowned, his eyes scanning your face. "Have you seen a doctor?"

You shook your head. "It's just a cold. A really bad one."

"Hmm," he hummed, not sounding convinced. His hand came up to rest against your forehead, checking your temperature. The gesture was so tender, so caring, it made your chest ache with something that had nothing to do with your congestion.

"You're still warm," he noted. "After you’ve eaten, you should take a shower.”

“Cause I smell?”

He chuckled. “You do,” he admitted, “but I think it will help you feel a little better, too.”

The thought of a shower was both appealing and exhausting. You wanted nothing more than to feel clean again, but the mere idea of standing upright for that long seemed impossible. 

"I don't know if I can stand that long," you admitted, setting the now-empty soup bowl back on the tray. "I get dizzy." 

Steve's eyes softened. "I'll help you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, so matter-of-fact. In all your encounters with Steve, this level of care, of tenderness, was uncharted territory. You'd seen glimpses of it, fleeting moments after sex when he would clean you up or hold you close, but nothing like this.

You set your now-"Steve, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted gently. His eyes held yours, and there was something in them you hadn't seen before—a vulnerability, a tenderness that made your breath catch. "Let me take care of you." 

Those five words hung in the air between you. This was so far outside the parameters of whatever it was you had with Steve that you didn't know how to respond. Sex was one thing—intense, but the thought of him seeing you so vulnerable, so weak, had you feeling hesitant.

But this was Steve. The man who had seen every inch of your body, who had made you come undone in ways you never thought possible. Why was this so different? 

"Okay," you finally agreed, your voice small. 

Steve helped you up from the couch, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you. The room spun slightly as you stood, and you leaned into him gratefully. 

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice close to your ear.

The walk to the bathroom was slow, your legs shaky beneath you. Steve matched his pace to yours, patient and solid beside you. When you reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with one hand while keeping the other on your waist.

Steam began to fill the small space as hot water cascaded from the showerhead. Then Steve turned to you, his hands coming to rest at the hem of your t-shirt.

"May I?" he asked quietly. 

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve gently lifted the shirt over your head, his movements clinical and careful. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only care. You felt oddly shy as he helped you undress completely, his eyes never lingering inappropriately. It was so different from every other time he'd removed your clothes.

"Almost ready," Steve said softly. He helped you remove your underwear with the same gentle efficiency, then guided you toward the shower. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, though you weren't entirely sure. "I think so."

"I'll be right here," he promised, helping you step under the warm spray.

The water felt heavenly against your skin, washing away days of fever sweat and lethargy. You closed your eyes, letting it cascade over your face and hair, breathing in the steam that helped clear your congested sinuses. 

For a moment, you felt almost human again. You reached for your shampoo bottle, but your arms felt like lead weights, and you swayed slightly.

"Easy there," Steve said, quickly stepping into the shower behind you, having discarded his own clothes. His strong hands steadied you, holding you upright as the water cascaded over both of you. The sudden feeling of his bare skin against yours was startlingly intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

"I've got you," he murmured, reaching for your shampoo bottle. He poured a generous amount into his palm and began to work it through your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with gentle pressure. You closed your eyes, leaning back against his solid chest as he washed your hair with careful, methodical movements. 

The feeling of his hands in your hair was hypnotic, soothing in a way you hadn't expected. This wasn't the Steve who pulled your hair during passionate encounters—this was someone else entirely, someone tender and nurturing. 

"Turn around," he said, gently turning you in his arms so you faced him. 

The warm water flowed down your back as Steve carefully tipped your head back, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. His hands were gentle as they worked through the strands, making sure every bit of soap was washed away. You kept your eyes closed, dizzy from the heat and the proximity of him, though not in the way you usually were around Steve. 

Once your hair was rinsed, he reached for your body wash, squeezing some onto a washcloth. With methodical care, he began washing your body, starting with your shoulders and working his way down your arms. His touch was clinical, respectful in a way that made your heart ache. 

"This okay?" he asked softly. 

You nodded, unable to find your voice. There was something so personal about this moment, something that transformed all the physical encounters you'd had into something more meaningful, more real. Steve continued washing you, his movements gentle but thorough. When he finished, he helped you rinse off, supporting your weight as the warm water cascaded over both of you.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low. 

"Much," you whispered. The combination of the hot water, the steam, and Steve's gentle care had eased some of your misery. Your head still felt stuffed with cotton, but the heavy weight of illness seemed slightly lighter. 

"I think I need to get out now," you murmured, your legs starting to feel like jelly beneath you.

"Okay," Steve agreed, turning off the water. He stepped out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before reaching for your fluffy bath towel. He enveloped you in it as you stepped out, using another smaller towel to gently blot the water from your hair.

The bathroom was warm and steamy, but you still shivered slightly. Steve noticed immediately.

"Let's get you dressed," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He kept one arm around you for support as he guided you into your bedroom. The familiar space was welcoming, though you noticed immediately that the tangled sheets and scattered tissues that had been in here too were gone. The bed was neatly made with fresh sheets, a glass of water and your medication waiting on the nightstand.

"You cleaned my room," you murmured, touched by the gesture. 

Steve shrugged, the movement casual but his eyes watchful as he steadied you. "Thought it might help you feel better." 

He helped you to the edge of the bed, then moved to your dresser. "What do you want to wear?" 

"T-shirt, second drawer. Underwear in the top left," you instructed.

Steve returned with a soft t-shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton underwear.

"Arms up," he instructed softly, helping you into a clean t-shirt. His hands were gentle as he guided the soft fabric over your damp hair and down your body. Next came the underwear, Steve kneeling before you to help you step into them. The role reversal was striking—you were usually the one on your knees before him.

Once you were dressed, Steve guided under the covers. The fresh sheets felt heavenly against your skin as you sank into the mattress. Steve tucked the blankets around you with careful hands, then sat on the edge of the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft. 

You nodded, your eyelids already growing heavy. The shower had helped clear your head somewhat, but it had also drained what little energy you had. 

Steve reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. "You should take your medicine."

You obediently took the pills he offered, washing them down with water. As you handed the glass back, your fingers brushed his. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick.

Steve brushed a strand of damp hair from your forehead, his touch lingering against your skin. "You should rest."

"Will you..." you hesitated, suddenly unsure. This was uncharted territory for both of you. "Will you stay?"

Something flickered in Steve's eyes—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. "Of course, I'll stay," he promised softly, “for as long as you need me to.” 

You felt a wave of relief wash over you.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. The combination of warm soup, a hot shower, and clean sheets was quickly pulling you toward sleep. 

You expected Steve to leave the room, perhaps go watch television or sit in the chair in the corner. Instead, he stood and shed the towel from his waist, quickly pulling on his boxer briefs that you now noticed were sitting on the dresser. The bed dipped as he slid in beside you, his body radiating warmth as he settled against the pillows. 

Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, seeking his warmth. Steve's arm came around you, drawing you against his chest. You rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, your body fitting against his as naturally as breathing. 

"Sleep," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple so naturally. 

As you surrendered to unconsciousness, your last thought was that while you would recover from this awful spring cold, you didn’t think you would ever recover from this. 

MORE SOON read more Exiled Nomad Series

For those keeping track of the chronological timeline, this is the end of April 2018. I'm going off this theoretical idea that Avengers Infinity War happened "sometime between April 19th and June 3rd, 2018."

...

just

you know

for reference...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[lyeofhell]

MDNI 18+ Only .𖥔 ݁ ˖ (f!reader x vampire!John)

when vampire!John Price eats you out into overstimulation and you inevitably start getting fussy, he just bites your inner thigh, gently tearing into that sweet, irresistible plush, sucking enough blood to weaken you, to tire your limbs and snuff out your fight. the loss of blood leaves you whiny, mumbling gibberish and breathing slow, fingers so weak you can’t even grip him by his hair. oh, and you’re so pliant this way…letting him spread you and fold you in any way he chooses, letting him get his fill in more ways than one, the way a good human pet should. and when your chest is slow to rise and fall, he shifts his glistening crimson lips back to the task at hand, spitting blood at your sticky cunt to make it slick again, spreading and licking and sucking, making a mess of it till it’s milky and red.

(divider by @/tsunami-of-tears)

[izzabela]

Show You My Impurities - Lin Kuei x fem!chubby-curvy!reader (scenario fic)

in which different scenarios show how the brothers react with you being insecure in a flattering dress

a/n: i know i updated my rules, but i'm gonna pump this and another req i got privately. from now on, though, do not send me requests in my DMs when reqs are closed

ship[s]: tomas, kuai liang & bi han x fem!chubby!reader (scenario)

warning(s): smidge of angst, body insecurity, suggestive endings, non-kanon

guys ignore the text on this gif, but also don't because it's lowkey hilarious

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

Bi Han

As Bi Han sits outside of the private dressing room of the shop you two were in, you stood in front of the mirror dejected and down.

You and Bi Han were out shopping after you realized some of your clothes didn't fit anymore. While Bi Han didn't see anything wrong with it, your heart sank as thoughts of yourself flooded your mind.

You were naturally a bigger girl. Beautifully large thighs, natural hips, a just a bit of a cute pudge on your belly, you were a bit bigger than the other girls. While you had the support of Bi Han (the fucking grandmaster), it didn't stop people or your mind from talking bad about you.

Back in front of the mirror, you sigh as you pull on the part of the fabric that hugged your waist a little too tight. It rolled over your natural curves and made you self-conscious.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with a light knock on your dressing room door.

"Madam? The grandmaster would like to see you now," the fitting room attendant announces behind the door.

You sigh once more, "I'll be out soon. Thank you."

Your flats drag with the unbearable weight of your thoughts as you walk out to see Bi Han on the circular couch in the foyer of the fitting room. He's reading a book, but the quickest glimpse at you and you're the only thing in his eyes.

"Àiren," Bi Han breathes as he gets up to see you in the dress.

Your smile is unstable and wobbly, and the matching wave doesn't help as it solidifies how the dress makes you feel. You try to stop picking at the fabric hugging your body, but the habit persists.

"I'm not sure this is the right dress," you say timidly. "It shows... too much."

Bi Han sets the book down, closing it without its bookmark, and meets you near the mirror.

"And why, àiren, do you think that?" Bi Han treads carefully, hands resting right above your love handles.

The wobble in your smile turns into a frown as hidden tears streak down delicately. You breathe a shuddery breath as you pull away from him and look into the mirror.

"Look at me!" you cry as you pull the fabric again. "It's hugging all the wrong spots, it's too tight, unflattering, and awful on a woman like me!"

Forgive Bi Han, dear reader, as everything you were telling him dissolved into nothing but dust as he looked you up and down over and over again.

All he could see was the beautiful woman he was dating. How that softness of your legs was highlighted with the dress, your little bum beautiful and round, and your breasts pushed together due to the technology in the dress allowing to support a woman's breasts without the need of a bra.

Where you saw impurities, he saw defining characteristics, features that were unique to only you.

And as the grandmaster to a large organization, unique strengths were something he could identify within a heartbeat.

Bi Han's semi-PG thoughts were interrupted as you sniffled and wiped your tears in front of the mirror. He coos as he hugs you from behind, large arms snaking around your soft waist and over your belly.

"Àiren," Bi Han starts. "You are lovely."

You've heard such words from family and friends before, hell even from Bi Han from time to time. This time, though, it felt like you experienced real life superpowers.

You smile weakly, but it's genuine as Bi Han peppers kisses on your neck and the dip of your shoulder. You giggle softly as his hands find yours and link up with them, and you can feel his hands use yours as he roams your body.

Every part of your body he goes over, you gain a new appreciation for all of your curves, the lovely lady lumps of yours, and the overall softness of your figure.

"Feel better, àiren?" Bi Han asks, hands finding a new spot dangerously close to your bum.

You give a hearty laugh, and the friction between you and Bi Han's trousers causes a certain something to poke at your behind. You turn behind you and meet his eyes with a knowing look.

"Really darling?" you tease. Bi Han just chuckles as he presses your bum on him harder.

"I hope to show you another way to appreciate yourself as well," he says quietly, kissing up your neck as he guides you back into your stall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomas

You drop your shopping bags on the floor of yours and Tomas's shared room. He was out today, training the initiates with his brothers. Your friends hit you up via letter to go shopping, and after looking through your wardrobe, it was time to acquire new garments.

Your old clothes were already pretty big considering you were a bigger and curvier girl, and while it was normal for anybody to gain weight, you felt different about it.

Your hips had grown wider, thighs larger, and waist just a bit bigger than before. You felt different, and not in a good way.

After your shopping spree with your friends, you come back home with all the new shirts, skirts, pants, and most importantly, dresses. Trying each one of them on, you couldn't help but tug on the ends of the fabric.

A habit you had, plus a bit of a scratching problem when you got nervous. But when Tomas was here, all of these issues were like it never existed.

Except he wasn't here right now. Your only other weapon against your mind was preoccupied, and you were losing the battle.

After trying on new trousers for meetings, leggings for training, and shirts for all sorts of occasions, dresses were the last clothes to cover. By the gods you were nervous.

Trying on the first one, it was a long-sleeved body con with a slit that stopped at your thigh. You swore that it looked shorter on the mannequin.

Damn it, corporate shopping centers.

You vehemently rubbed your hands down the dress to try and bring the slit down, but it was made like that. Looking at yourself in the full body mirror that stood next to the dresser, your eyes were wide in fear at the sight of you.

While you had been reassured many times from your friends, family, Tomas and his family, the thoughts gnawed and festered away in your mind.

Through the mirror, you saw how your hips hugged the dress, how your little belly rolled over in the fabric, your thigh peeking through the slit and bits of cellulite coming through.

While you knew that everyone, Tomas especially, would reassure you, you couldn't help but feel like an imposter- a pig in a dress.

The tears you so badly were holding in began to flow down your cheeks and hit the dress. You sniffle as you waddle over to the bed, head buried in your hands as you wallow in your depressing thoughts.

Suddenly, the door opens and you can hear a certain European man humming a tune and his steps walk on the pebble floor.

"Feather?" his voice is careful as he approaches you. Your shoulders are perked up as you messily try to cover up your tears, but that shit clearly isn't working as Tomas is on his knees as one of his hands is on your knee and the other on your wet cheek.

"Feather, what's wrong?" he asks softly, wiping your endless tears as you get up from the bed. Tomas is definitely taken aback as he follows you to the mirror.

"Tomas, you know what's wrong. I mean, just look!" you cry, pointing to yourself in the mirror as you keep tugging the slit of your dress.

"You can see my thighs, especially the little wrinkles. My tummy is ugly here in the middle, and..."

Tomas didn't hear a single thing since he saw the dress on you through the mirror. If he had a tail and ears, they would be perked up and wagging. Hell, he might even be drooling.

Tomas loved the way the slit teased the legs he's marked over and over again. He loved the way bits of your softness hugged the fabric, sign of your health that he loved to see. And by the elder gods, those hips of yours. Round, voluptuous, and full, his most favorite part of you was accented so well in the dress.

"I just feel like an imposter," you say, and his thoughts were interrupted and brought back to you.

"And why would my feather feel like that?" Tomas asks as he blocks you from the mirror. You sigh as you hold on the fabric again.

"It doesn't suit me, I just said that," you groan. Tomas takes your hands and decides to do something about your inner voice.

"You are ethereal," Tomas whispers as he kisses your forehead. "Spectacular, perfect, one-of-a-kind."

You giggle at every word he uses to praise you, at every kiss he gave you on your face. Tomas holds your face and plants one final kiss on your lips.

"And if you truly feel like you want a change, we can do that too," Tomas assured you. "No matter what form you are, even a worm, I will cherish you."

This was why you chose Tomas out of the many men that threw themselves at you. He accepted you for who you are, and he would support you if you ever wanted to change anything about you.

You kiss him on his lips as a thank you, giggling into his mouth as he opens up for you to explore. You fling your arms around his neck as his hand res comfortable on your lower back. Like well-tailored gloves, he fits well there as he pulls you closer and makes you feel the growing muscle beneath his pants.

"Oh my..." you whisper, looking down at the bulge in his pants. He chuckles as he whispers in your ear.

"There are ways to quell the voice in your head as well," Tomas suggests.

You walk backwards and lead him to the bed once more.

"I'm all ears, commander."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuai Liang

You stared back into the mirror that threw back the image of yourself. It was you alone with your reflection in the dressing room.

No point in hiding, though, as two more mirrors were angled in your direction. You were surrounded with yourself in this dress, and it felt like you were cornered by a pack of hungry wolves.

You step down from the middle step and sit down and wave your legs from side to side in boredom and sadness.

You were out dress shopping with Kuai Liang for a wedding guest dress. His old friend, Harumi, was getting married, and he and his entire family, and their partners, were invited to the ceremony.

Three shops later, you found a beautiful mermaid dress with long-sleeves and went down to your ankles. On the mannequin, the dress was spectacular. Of course, mannequins are not true to life, but it looked amazing.

Now that the dress was on you, though, you wanted to dissolve into nothing but dust.

You always did your best to ignore the negative thoughts that plagued your mind, but they bit your ankles like a bear trap- unknown yet always there. This dress made it feel like you stepped into a field of them.

Your belly made a sort of "pouch" thing since the dress hugged your curves. Your hips were well-defined in the dress, and it actually accentuated the natural waist you had too.

And elder gods have mercy, the legs. Though covered up, it's no secret that you had legs for days under the dress. And Kuai Liang was the lucky man to see, touch, and feel them.

Despite such charming features, you couldn't help but feel defeated with yourself. As you cried silently, trying to slip out of the dress, a knock came on your door.

"Dove, what is the matter?" Kuai Liang's voice reverbs through the door. You sniffle and wipe your face, trying to put up a façade in your voice before answering.

"U-uh, nothing!" you say with a fake, upbeat voice.

Kuai Liang, bless him, knows you're lying. So instead of leaving, you can hear how his body slides down the door and his bum plop onto the ground.

"I am not to move until you let me in, dove," he states, claiming his spot on the (probably dirty) floor. You want to scold him, tell him to get up, but prolonging it will only make it more embarrassing.

Giving in, you open the door and watch as he falls onto his back. He blinks a couple of times before he sees your blurry image in the dress.

Shyly, you hold your elbow as he scrambles to his feet. He's practically drinking the sight of you like a dehydrated survivor. The very image of you in this dress is revitalizing him.

He can't ignore how full your hips and bum look against the dress, or how elongated the dress makes you look. He can't ignore the way your legs naturally crossover on another due to the dress's shape, or how perfect the dress hugs your waist.

Let's not forget the belly, either. His absolute, most favorite part of you was perfectly snug in its place, creating a sort of "pouch" effect. Hreat elder gods, Kuai Liang's patience was truly being tested.

"Oh dove..." Kuai Liang mumbles, walking over to you and taking your hands in his. "Dove, you are stunning."

You nod sadly as you feel on of his hands rest on your cheek, carefully wiping your tears away as you mumble chicken scratch about how the dress looks on you. Whatever you were saying was being ignored- like talking to a brick wall.

"Kuai Liang, love," you say weakly. "I cannot with this dress, it just doesn't sit well on me..."

The pyromancer shakes his head rapidly, like a child throwing a tantrum. He grabs onto your shoulders and spins you around to look at the mirror, and all three reflections stare back at you.

This time, with Kuai Liang present.

"Are you telling me that I'm being lied to?" Kuai Liang's voice booms. "This woman, in the mirror, is not the one I said was most beautiful?"

You nervously shake your head 'no', and Kuai Liang keeps singing your praises.

"I know who I chose as my consort. I know who I chose as the love of my life," Kuai Liang kisses your cheek and grabs your right hand and spreads your fingers out.

"I know who I chose as my future wife."

You turn around, pink and warm on your face, as you smile and hug him.

"You, dove, are the one I want," Kuai Liang assures you. "And no matter what form you choose, I am going to have you no matter what."

You chuckle and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for reminding me, my love." Kuai Liang, instead of responding as usual, begins to close in on you as your back presses against the cold mirror.

"Um, my love?"

Kuai Liang strips the jacket he was trying on before his arms pin you in the jail cell of his chest.

"Perhaps another addition to your reminder," he nips your ear and kisses your neck.

"So that you will not forget again."

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

hello kings, queens, and monarchs, hope yall enjoyed this one!

as you saw, i made a rules and masterlist, so please read that before proceeding to do anything regarding this blog

see yall in the next fic!

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts — feeling a little insecure about your body

| including. han, felix, seungmin, i.n

type. not requested

warnings. f!reader, talk of weight, being a curvy/plus size girlie

a/n. as a curvy girl who’s been having mixed feelings about her appearance her whole life, i kinda wrote this for myself😬 it can be hard to feel comfortable with our bodies when a lot of the content we see glorifies skinnier bodies, i myself got so many times weird or rude comments based on my appearance and it felt good to imagine scenarios where someone would be there to reassure me about my insecurities, i hope these will have the same effect on you guys and that you’ll like them mwah <3

hyung line

[worlds-we-write]

Something to Hold Onto II one shot

summary: On a cold night in a secluded cabin, Joel finally shows you just how much he wants you—slow, possessive, and worshiping every inch of you like you were made for him.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

warning/tags: jackson era joel, soft dom joel, soft joel, curyv/mid/plus size reader, reader has insecurity, body worship, praise, unprotected piv

The fire crackles in the small cabin, its flickering light casting long shadows over the worn wooden walls. Outside, the wind howls through the trees, a relentless reminder of the world beyond. But here, in the sanctuary of these four walls, it’s just the two of you.

You shift on the makeshift bedroll, the blankets tangled around your legs. You’re warm, but that has less to do with the fire and more to do with Joel Miller’s presence beside you. He’s sitting on an old chair near the fireplace, one boot propped on the edge of the hearth, watching you with those deep, assessing eyes.

“You should be sleepin’,” he murmurs, voice thick like honey, rough like gravel.

You shrug, cheeks warm under his gaze. “You’re not sleeping either.”

Joel huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand down his face before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Somebody’s gotta keep watch.”

You know better that to argue with him, but the way he watches you – it makes you feel something deep in your chest, something vulnerable. Something you’re not used to.

“Come here,” he says, his voice low, expectant.

You hesitate, but only for a second. Joel has a way of making hesitation disappear. You move toward him, and before you can settle, his large hands find your hips, guiding you onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You tense, self-conscious, but Joel sighs, like he’s finally at ease. One of his hands slides up your back, the other gripping your thick thigh, his touch firm but gentle. “There we go,” he mutters, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Joel…”

“You’re so damn soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin, making you shiver. “Always feel so good in my hands.”

Your breath stutters. You don’t hear words like that often.

He feels it – your hesitation, your doubt – and his grip tightens, grounding. His other hand drifts up your back, fingers trailing along the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath it, finding warm skin. “Ain’t got nothin’ to be shy about,” he says voice rough with conviction. “I like you just the way you are. Love the way you feel against me. The way you fit against me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands curling into the fabric of his flannel. “You mean that?”

Joel tilts his head, his lips ghosting along your jaw before he cups your chin, tilting your face so you have no choice but to meet his eyes. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweetheart.” His thumb brushes against your lower lip. “Now, you gonna let me hold you proper, or you gonna keep frettin’ over nothing?”

The weight of his words settles deep in your chest, heavy and warm. You nod, just once, and Joel makes a satisfied sound before wrapping his arms fully around you, pulling you close, his body solid and steady beneath yours.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against your temple. “Knew you’d come around.”

And just like that, the cold world outside fades away.

Joel holds you like he means it. Like you’re something worth protecting, worth keeping close. His hands rest heavy against you – not hesitant, not testing, just there, as if he knows exactly what he wants, and it’s you.

You melt against him, your head tucked beneath his chin, and he hums low in his chest. The sound rumbles through you, grounding, reassuring. His hand strokes slowly up and down your back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath it again, warm against your skin.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lips grazing your hairline. “Knew you just needed to be held for a bit.”

Your breath shudders out of you, the tension in your shoulders slowly unraveling. It’s been so long since someone touched you like this – not out of necessity, not in passing, but with intent.

Joel’s intent is written all over him. It’s in the way he holds you close, the way his fingers trace lazy circles at the base of your spine, the way his other hand stays firm on your thigh, like he’s staking a claim.

“You run yourself ragged,” he mutters after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, almost scolding. “Tryin’ to prove something.”

You tense, but he soothes it away with another slow drag of his fingers along your back.

“I ain’t trying to prove anything,” you say under your breath.

Joel huffs. “That so?”’ His lips press against the shell of your ear, voice dipping lower. “Then why do you get all stiff when I tell you how much I like this?” His hand tightens on your thigh, fingers flexing. “How good you feel against me?”

Heat floods your cheeks, “Joel—”

“Mm.” He noses along your jaw, tilting your head back just enough to look at you. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes – dark, unwavering – hold you still. “You think I don’t see you?” His fingers press into your flesh, a firm, grounding grip. “Think I don’t feel what it does to you when I touch you like this?”

Your breath catches. “I just – I’m not—”

“Shh.” His thumb ghosts over your lower lip, shushing you gently. “Ain’t got nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart.” He cups your face fully now, calloused fingers cradling you like you’re something fragile – though you know Joel Miller doesn’t do fragile. Not unless he cares.

And that thought? It sinks into your chest, heavy and warm.

“You always act so tough,” he murmurs. “Always puttin’ other people first.” His other hand drifts higher, squeezing at your hip. “Maybe it’s time somebody took care of you for once.”

You exhale shakily, something in your defenses crumbling under the weight of his words. “Joel…”

“I got you,” He reassures, his lips brushing yours – not quite a kiss, not yet, just the promise of one. His hands stay where they are, holding you firm, steady, safe. “Just let me have you for a little while. Let me show you.”

And maybe it’s exhaustion, maybe it’s the warmth of the fire, maybe it’s just him, but you let go. Let yourself sink into his touch, into his presence, into the quiet promise in his eyes.

Joel hums in approval, his lips finally meet yours, slow and deep, as his arms tighten around you. Holding you like he’s never letting go.

Joel kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world. Like there’s no rush, no threat outside these walls, just the slow, steady way his lips move against yours. His grip on your tightens – not rough, but firm, grounding, possessive in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes you sigh into his mouth. He takes it as permission, his hands roaming, mapping the curves of your body like he’s memorizing you.

“That’s it,” he mutters against your lips, his voice dark and pleased. “Knew you’d let me in if I was patient.”

Your fingers curl into his flannel, holding onto him like he’s the only steady thing in the world. Maybe he is.

“Joel…” you murmur, your breath shaky.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek. His eyes are molten in the firelight, filled with something you’re not sure you deserve but want so badly.

“You’re not used to being taken care of, are you?” he questions.

Your throat tightens. You should look away, but he won’t let you. His fingers tilt your chin just enough to keep you locked in place, waiting for an answer.

“I—” You swallow hard. “Not like this.”

Joel exhales through his nose, like he already knew the answer. His grip tightens – not to restrain, but to reassure.

“Well,” he says, dragging his lips over your jaw, then lower, tracing a path down your neck. “Guess I’ll just have to teach you, huh?”

You shiver as his mouth lingers at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Teach me?” you echo, your voice barley more than a breath.

His teeth scrape just enough to make your breath hitch, then he soothes the spot with his tongue. “Mhm,” he hums. “Gonna teach you how to take what you’re given. How to let yourself be wanted.”

A low, needy sound escapes your throat before you can stop it, and Joel groans in response, his fingers tightening at your waist.

“You like that?” he whispers, dragging his lips back up to your ear. “Like the way I hold you? The way I touch you?”

You nod – small, hesitant.

He makes a pleased sound, then suddenly grips your thigh, squeezing hard enough to make your gasp. “Say it.”

Your stomach flips, heat coiling low at the quiet command in his voice.

“I like it. Like it when you touch me,” you utter.

Joel hums his approval, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Good girl.” His hands move again, slow but deliberate, smoothing over the soft flesh of your hips, your waist, “Love every inch of you, y’know that?”

You freeze for a moment – because no, you didn’t know that.

Joel notices immediately. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softer that you expect. His fingers flex against your sides, holding you steady.

“You listen to me,” he growls, his voice lower now, rougher. “Ain’t gonna let you talk yourself outta this. Ain’t gonna let you hide from what I see.” He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “And I see you, sweetheart. Every damn bit of you.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you close your eyes, trying to blink away the sting behind them. Joel lets you sit in it for a moment before he shifts, rolling his hips just enough to remind you exactly where you’re sitting.

Your breath catches, and he smirks. “You feel that?” His voice is deeper now, thick with want. “That’s for you. Every bit of me, wantin’ every bit of you.”

You whimper, your fingers tightening in his shirt.

Joel chuckles, low and dark, then lifts you effortlessly, shifting you until your back meets the mattress, his broad frame caging you in.

“Now,” he hums, his lips hovering just above yours. “You gonna let me take my time with you? Show you how good you are?”

You nod quickly, breathless, and Joel grins against your lips.

“That’s my girl.”

Joel doesn’t rush.

He takes his time, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone. His hands map every inch of you – tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, the soft dip of your stomach. Not with hesitation, not with restraint, but with purpose. Like he’s worshipping you.

“Look at you,” he mutters against your skin, his lips trailing lower, his hands gripping your hips as he settles between your legs. “So damn beautiful.”

You let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the weight of his touch, the way he looks at you – like he’s starved, like he needs you.

“You’re just sayin’ that,” you whisper, a hint of doubt creeping into your voice.

Joel freezes. His grip on your hips tightens, and when he lifts his head, his expression is serious. “You think I don’t mean it?” His voice low, rough. “Think I’d be here – with you, like this – if I didn’t want you? If it didn’t mean every damn word?”

You swallow hard. He’s watching you so closely, waiting for you to believe him.

“I – I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barley above a whisper.

Joel exhales slowly, his thumb stroking soft circles against your skin. He doesn’t want to argue. Doesn’t try to convince you with words. Instead, he leans down, pressing a kiss just above your heart, then another, lower, lips warm against your skin.

“Then let me show you,” he murmurs.

And he does.

Every touch, every kiss, every slow deliberate movement – Joel worships you, his hands reverent, his mouth hungry. He doesn’t let you shy away, doesn’t let you hide.

A shuddering breath escapes you, and Joel groans, his grip tightening.

“God, I love hearing you like that,” he mutters. “ Love feelin’ you like this.” His hands skim your sides, his lips pressing against the swell of your stomach, lingering. “Ain’t a damn thing I don’t love about you, darling.”

Your breath catches. No one’s ever touches you like this, looked at you like this. Like you’re wanted. Joel lifts his head, his eyes dark and serious. “I need you to believe me,” he says quietly. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod slowly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Joel grins, slow and satisfied, pressing another lingering kiss to your skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise. “Now let me take care of you.”

The fire crackles low in the hearth, its glow casting shifting shadows across the cabin walls. The wind outside howls against the wood, but in here, wrapped in Joel’s arms, all you can hear is the sound of his breath—steady, warm, needy.

He has you beneath him now, your back pressing into the worn mattress, the weight of his body heavy in the best way. His hands roam slowly, reverently, as if he’s memorizing you, rough palms smoothing over the dips and swells of your form, squeezing, gripping, claiming.

“Christ,” Joel mutters, voice husky, half-broken as his fingers dig into your soft hips, molding you to him. His forehead rests against yours, his breath coming out in short, heated pants. “You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.”

Your body hums under his touch, heat pooling low in your belly as he drags his lips down the column of your throat, kissing, biting, soothing. He groans when you shiver, when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull, just enough to make his breath hitch.

"That’s it," he rasps, his tongue tracing over your pulse. "Lemme hear you, baby. Lemme feel you." He shifts lower, trailing his mouth over the swell of your chest, his teeth grazing sensitive skin before he sucks a mark there—deep and dark, something undeniable.

"Joel," you whimper, arching into him, the sound of your voice making his grip tighten.

"Yeah, baby?" He lifts his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours, pupils blown wide with heat. His fingers stroke slow circles over your stomach, teasing lower, ghosting over where you need him. "Tell me what you want. Lemme hear you say it."

Your breath stutters, heat rushing to your cheeks. He’s watching you so closely, waiting. Not teasing—testing.

"I—" You swallow hard, your fingers curling into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. "I want you, Joel. Please."

A growl rumbles deep in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss that leaves you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours, slow and deep, his hands gripping your thighs as he parts them wider.

His thumb strokes your inner thigh, the pad of his finger pressing just enough to make you shiver. “You with me, sweetheart?” he rasps, voice thick with hunger. When you nod, breath hitching, he rewards you with a slow, satisfied smirk. “Good girl. Now lemme hear how much you want it.”

His touch is everywhere—hot, possessive, devouring. His fingers press into soft flesh, squeezing like he loves the way you feel beneath him. And when he finally gives you what you’ve been aching for, when he fills you, it’s with a deep, guttural groan, his face buried against your neck as he stills, trembling.

"Fuck," he rasps, his breath ragged against your skin. "So tight. So warm. Jesus, sweetheart, you were made for me."

You whimper, fingers digging into his back as he starts to move, slow at first, letting you feel every inch of him, every stroke, every roll of his hips.

Joel presses you deeper into the mattress, the sheer weight of him overwhelming in the best way. His hands frame your face, tilting your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. “Keep your eyes on me,” he orders, his voice a gravelly whisper, his fingers tracing the curve of your lower lip before he claims your mouth in a searing, breath-stealing kiss.

He keeps his face close, whispering between ragged breaths, telling you how perfect you feel, how beautiful you are like this, like his.

"You feel that?" His voice is thick, desperate. "That’s all for you, darlin’. Every last bit of me—yours."

The world outside fades, lost to the rhythm of your bodies, the heat of his skin, the roughness of his hands. Joel isn’t just taking you—he’s worshiping you, like he’s been starving for this, for you. And when he finally lets go, when you both break, it’s together—his grip tightening, his lips murmuring against your skin, his body wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

And maybe, just maybe, he never will.

AN: Hey y’all! 💕 This was such a pleasure to write—there’s just something about Joel being all rough, protective, and soft in his own way that makes my heart (and other things 👀) melt. I wanted this to feel intimate, a mix of raw desire and deep care, because let’s be real—Joel would take his time worshiping every inch of you. 😏

Hope you enjoyed this little indulgence! Let me know what you think—I love hearing from you! 💖✨

[aestas---estas]

With all that we've been through, it's still you

MDNI 18+ | Read on AO3 | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~3,1k words | fem!reader, plus-sized/curvy reader (few mentions), light angst, fluff, emotional sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it in real life folks), creampie | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me

The first day after Simon gets back from deployment is always the best and worst 24 hours of your life.

He's home, he's alive, he's safe — and that makes your heart soar, especially after missions where he has to go dark for weeks at a time.

But it's also like living with a ghost. He exiles himself to the guest room, sleeps on the ugly pull-out couch the two of you bought specifically because it was easy on his back.

The only reasons you even know he's home are the boots by the door and the jacket hung on the hook. He doesn't talk to you, moves as quiet as a mouse, only leaves his self-imposed enclosure when he knows you're busy elsewhere in the house.

He can't bear the thought of touching you with bloodstained hands. Even when his skin is squeaky clean after several washes before even leaving for your shared home, the haunting images in his mind remind him of what he does during his time away. So he turns the shower as hot as it'll go and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his skin is red and raw to the touch. And even then he still waits, bides his time, until he can close his eyes and imagine you without your pretty face morphing into the bloodied and dying visages of comrades and enemies alike.

But just like clockwork, after 24 hours and 3 showers, Simon finds you and huddles up close. In the kitchen, with his arms wrapped around your middle as he crowds you against the counter, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. In the living room, laying himself down next to you with his head on your plush thighs, guiding the hand you're not using to scroll on your phone to card through his hair and scratch his scalp. In the bath, kneeling next to the tub as he begs with his eyes to help you wash your hair or just holding your hand and rubbing circles into your skin; reminding himself that you're alive, that you're safe, that you're not afraid of him despite the various atrocities he's committed.

Your favourite, however, are times like tonight, when it's the middle of the night and you wake from the mattress dipping behind you as Simon climbs in under the covers. He slides an arm around your middle, pulling you close, pressing his chest to your back until there isn't a sliver of air separating your bodies.

“Missed you, dove,” Simon murmurs, his lips hot on the back of your neck. His soft kisses make goosebumps rise on your exposed arms, and a barely suppressed shiver runs down your spine when he catches your earlobe for a quick, gentle nibble.

“Missed you too, Si,” you sigh out blissfully, body already relaxed and soft from his ministrations, anticipating the pleasure to come.

“Want you,” he says in between hot, open mouthed kisses. His hand has slid up under your sleep shirt, resting warm and heavy with intent on your stomach — waiting for permission before venturing further.

“You have me,” you promise, pressing yourself impossibly closer to his chest, one leg hooking over his.

You tilt your head, exposing more of your throat to Simon, a soft moan slipping from your lips when his big palm reaches up and grabs at a breast. It's gentle, a massage almost, and it makes your eyes flutter shut.

“My sweet girl.” Simon's voice is like liquid silk to your ears, low and sensual and full of unadulterated lust. You gasp when his rough fingers finally pay attention to your nipple; rolling and tugging at it until it's pebbled and sensitive.

You push your hips back against his, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against your ass. A low moan rumbles through Simon's chest as you move against him, his free hand pushing your shirt out of the way, up over the swell of your breasts, before rolling you to your back swiftly.

He's on top of you within a second, fitting himself in the cradle of your thighs, the vast expanse of his chest covering yours. His big paws frame your face and then you're kissing. It's soft and gentle, all lips and tongue; slow and reverent but no less passionate. 

Simon's heavy on top of you, almost crushingly so. But if this is the way you go, unable to breathe with your lips glued to the man you love, then so be it. He's your favourite weighted blanket and you'd give anything to just stay like this forever.

Your fingers wander over his naked back, tracing and mapping the scars and marks littering his flesh; both old and new. When morning comes, you'll pepper them with kisses in the soft glow of the sun, but for now you're both satisfied with just touching and feeling each other.

“I love you,” Simon whispers, and you make a reluctant noise in your throat when he pulls his lips away from yours to say it. But your complaint dies the moment his mouth trails hot down your throat, sucking and kissing and licking at your skin all the way down to your chest.

You can feel his lips move as he mutters something against your sternum — more to himself than to you — but his voice is muffled, face pressed in between your full tits making the sound swallowed and unintelligible.

With one hand still running up and down the expanse of his back, you push your other one up and into his hair, petting and scratching until Simon preens under your touch. He stays there for a moment, listening to your heartbeat under his ear; reminding himself yet again that you’re alive, that you’re safe, that you love him.

You don’t get impatient with him, never. You always let him take everything at his own pace, and tonight is no different. He whispers muffled apologies against your skin, words dripping with feelings of both remorse and conviction. He does what he does because he needs to — someone always needs to. Like taking out the trash of the world, it’s not pleasant, but it is necessary. And the fact that he’s good at his job only means he gets to come back to your side. You, with your soft body and cradling arms and loving words.

Simon mouths his way to your already pert nipple, softly kissing around it before engulfing the sensitive nub, flicking it with his tongue, letting his teeth just barely make contact. Your breath hitches in your chest and a silent moan escapes your lips. And then he switches sides, keeping the pleasure on your abandoned breast with his fingers as he rolls and tugs at your nipple, all while licking and sucking on the other.

“Simon,” you hum in satisfaction, inadvertently spurring him on. His chest rumbles, something low and hungry that vibrates through him to you. His hands get rougher, calloused fingers digging into your flesh as he kisses his way down your chest until your thighs frame his shoulders.

He doesn’t ask, not verbally, but his eyes meet yours and you can see the need, the hunger, the desperation, in them clear as day. So you smile and give him a nod, lovingly stroking his cheek before settling your hand back in his hair — not pushing or pulling, just resting there, like an unspoken anchor to keep both of you connected in the moment.

Simon kisses your cunt over your underwear, once, twice, three times, before pulling the fabric to the side to get his tongue on you.

He doesn’t eat like a man starved, despite the lust in his eyes. No, he takes his time; practically making out with your pussy, slowly and steadily, almost romantically if it weren’t for the downright pornographic noises. His tongue is lapping and flicking at all the right spots, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to keep you spread for his broad shoulders even when your body reacts to his ministrations and instinctually tries to close them. Simon knows what he wants and how to get it, and he won’t stop until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You come undone when he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as you breathe “right there, god, right there, Si”. Your back arches, the muscles in your thighs lock up, and then the feeling consumes you whole — it swallows you as white explodes in your vision, heart beating frantically as if trying to escape from your chest. Your lips form the syllables of his name, but you can’t be sure what exactly came out with how loud your blood rushes in your ears.

Simon licks you through the waves, moans in satisfaction as he laps up your slick, hips rutting against the soft mattress because you’re just that sweet. Your grip on his hair just barely borders on painful, but the slight sting only gives way to the much louder feelings of pride and satisfaction.

“You with me?” he asks once the aftershocks have rolled through your body and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice shaky but no less joyous — you have Simon back, not just in body, but in mind and soul. He’s back with you emotionally for the first time since he walked through your front door 24 hours prior.

Simon gives you a smile, a true one, not one of those cocky smirks he throws other people's way, and angles his head to press a kiss to your thigh. If this was any other night he would’ve bitten and sucked a bruise into your skin, but not tonight; tonight was all about reconnection, about soft and sweet love, about celebrating that you’re both alive.

He sits back on his knees, keeping your legs spread open with his hands, just looking down at you for a moment, taking it all in. Your breathing hasn’t steadied just yet, your chest rapidly rising and falling, and droplets of sweat decorate your heated skin. The shirt is still pushed up over your breasts and your underwear are crooked from when he pulled them aside instead of off. You’ve never looked more beautiful to Simon.

“Got another one in you?” he questions, running his hands down your thighs until his fingers are hooked in elastic, ready to tug the fabric away at your say-so.

You smile at him, lovingly and warm and radiant, and nod your head enthusiastically. You help him in discarding the rest of your clothes, throwing the few pieces both of you have to a heap on the ground. He settles back beside you on the bed, one big palm cradling your cheeks as he turns your head to look at him. 

Unspoken I missed you’s and I love you’s exchange between your gazes. Words aren’t necessary right now, his and your expressions alone speak volumes about the devotion you both hold for the other.

Simon’s free hand wanders down the length of your body, slow and tender, almost teasing in its gentleness. You gasp as a thick finger prods longingly at your cunt, a few slow pumps before curling inside to massage that spongy spot that makes you see stars; his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit in a tandem of pleasure.

“More,” you breathe, clutching at his bicep, feeling the muscles work as he obliges and stuffs you full with a second then a third finger. He works you up, pumping and rubbing at all the right spots, making sure you’re prepared for when he finally gets to slip his cock inside. He doesn’t let you fall off the edge, though, keeps you teetering on it until you’re a panting, shaking mess; like putty in his hands, so soft, so pliable, begging him for more, more, more.

It's not until you say his name, half pleading, half scolding, that he takes pity on you. The sound of his fingers sliding out of you is squelchingly wet, like your cunt is complaining, unwilling to let them go. And when he sucks the digits into his mouth it makes your face heat with a combination of arousal and embarrassment. He savours your taste, as if he didn't get enough of it, of you, while eating you out; eyes closed, throat humming in satisfied contentment, and you can't help but be hypnotised by the sight.

Simon lets his fingers go with a pop before leaning over you, opening the drawer on your bedside table to rifle through it blindly until he finds the bottle of lube he knew was there. You've taken the full length and girth of his cock without this much prep and help countless times before, always relished in the stretch and slight pinch, but on nights like tonight he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Your hand,” he says, voice low and gruff, the lust in it unmistakable.

The lube is cold when he deposits a dollop of it in your waiting palm. The click of the cap and closing of the drawer are loud in the otherwise quiet room, only amplifying your anticipation as you heat the gel between your hands. His eyes never leave yours until your fingers wrap around his achingly hard cock, making a moan rumble through his chest as his eyelids flutter shut.

You stroke him languidly, squeezing and twisting just the way you know he likes, the way that makes him twitch in your grip as you kiss his shoulder reverently. It makes his heart ache with deep seated love, and he has to look up at the ceiling to blink away the tears that start to form from the intimate act and overwhelming emotions of finally being home, being with you.

Simon surges forward to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours so hard and passionately it nearly makes your head spin. He's already close from having grinded against the bed while licking your cunt, and your hands on him feel heavenly. So when he stops your movements and whispers that he won't last long, you tell him it's okay — because it is, because you're up there, dancing on the edge together with him. His earlier ministrations had made you sensitive to the touch and the bliss of Simon's cock sliding inside you for the first time in months already has you clinging to his form and your walls clenching around him.

His arms are hooked under yours, hands cradling the back of your head, your face pressed into the crook of his neck; like he's protecting you, shielding you from the world, keeping you safe from all of its horrors. He stays there for a moment, cock nestled all the way inside your welcoming warmth, his already near aching balls resting against your ass; both of you basking in the moment and the wonderful feeling of each other.

It's not until your knees dig a little into his sides, impatient, that Simon starts moving; slowly sliding out of you, only the tip notched happily inside, before pushing back in, making sure to go as deep as he can possibly get without hurting you with every roll of his hips. One of your hands burrows into his hair, threading your fingers through the soft locks to pet and reassure, and to grip when the pleasure overtakes. Your hips are canted just right so his every thrust hits perfectly against your G-spot, making you screw your eyes shut and cling to him a little tighter.

You know Simon gets off on getting you off, knows he loves hearing your pleasure loud and clear as your moans mingle with his. So you mumble encouragements and praise and directions into his heated skin — you tell him how good it feels, gasp loudly when his hips start snapping instead of rolling, tense in his grasp and press your knees tighter around him as you practically mewl with pleasure.

And Simon, to his credit, isn’t silent either. He’s breathing heavily, cursing every so often when you clench around his cock. “Touch yourself for me,” he manages to moan out, cock sawing in and out of your cunt faster and faster as he approaches his high. “Wanna feel you come apart.”

So you wedge your free hand in between your sweaty bodies, a feat in itself with how his entire torso is pressing down onto yours, and find your swollen clit. It takes only a few quick circles with your fingers and the orgasm he had dangled in front of you while fucking you open on his fingers comes rushing back full-force.

You don’t even have the time to give him a warning before you’re trembling and calling his name, toes curling and legs shaking. Simon’s thrusts grow sloppy and near frantic within a second, your fluttering pussy practically milking his cock as he loses himself in you, spilling inside until his spend is leaking around his length still buried deep within you.

The room is quiet except for your laboured breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, hearts beating hard and fast in tandem, your fingers in his hair curling around strands and nails softly scratching against his scalp. There’s a small wet spot next to your head on the pillow from where Simon had finally let the cathartic tears from before roll silently down his cheeks — he knows you’d never judge him for crying due to overwhelming emotions, so he doesn’t exactly hide it, but it’s not something he’s particularly used to flaunting. So he wipes at his eyes without a word, still keeping you tucked away against his shoulder, and lets your petting hands soothe him.

It takes you a near herculean effort to convince Simon to let you up so you can pee and clean up, even when all you want to do is just stay under him and trace invisible patterns on his flushed skin. He follows close behind you to the bathroom, a compromise, never letting go of your hand even when he turns around to offer you some privacy as you sit down on the toilet. Simon quickly wets a hand towel to swipe over his sensitive cock with his free hand, hissing slightly at the sensation of too much which makes you chuckle, before offering a clean one for you.

You cuddle back in bed afterwards; your back to Simon’s chest, legs intertwined, his arm curled around your middle. His nose is in your hair and you can feel every exhale on the back of your neck — you’ve never felt more safe or loved.

“I'm really glad you're back, Si.”

His hold on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

“I'm glad to be back, love.”

--- CoD Masterlist

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Emerald Hallow Chapter 1

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.  

**plus size reader 

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Next chapter

Steve prided himself on his self control. He was a Beta before the super soldier serum, and when his body went through the transformation so did his classification. Not only did he have to learn how to operate his new body but as a new Alpha he had to learn how to handle the intense emotions and instincts that came with it. He’d been able to work through most of it without endangering any Omegas along the way. Anytime a moment of weakness chipped at his psyche the words of Dr. Erskine would rattle his brain: “…you must promise me that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier. But a good man.” Good men, good Alphas, did not attack or take what they wanted from others. Steve was well aware of the plight of Omegas in the world. If there was one thing that had stayed consistent throughout his long life it was that Omegas were still considered “less” by many, something to be bred and fulfill Alphas’ needs. He didn’t feel this way, but knew many others did.

After returning the Infinity stones he had gone to see Peggy in the past for closure, but did not stay. As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t. He loved her, but she was also an Alpha, and same classification couples never worked out.  Bucky needed him, and a promise of “’til the end of the line” was a promise. He had helped transition Sam into the Captain America role and quickly retired, only advising on missions rather than taking the lead. He tried to reintegrate back into regular civilian life, finding his next adventure. He wanted to move on from Peggy and find an Omega to settle down and have a family with.

So far he had no luck. He had started going by his middle name, Grant, and had grown out his beard and hair again so he wasn’t as recognizable as “Captain America” anymore. The dates he’d gone on had been unsuccessful. Omegas were hard to come by nowadays, and to find one willing to even go on a date was even harder. He felt like he was being a gentleman, not expecting anything from them other than to get to know them and see if it was worth pursuing, but he could feel the anxiety and tension dripping from their scents every time. He couldn’t blame them, but it also made him feel like the magic or allure of a great romance that he was looking for to replace his feelings for Peggy was a pipe dream.

One late Autumn night as he left Bucky’s apartment and headed home he smelled something that made him skid to a stop. Amongst the carved pumpkins and crisp Autumn air was something tantalizing, mouth-watering, and made the hair on the back of his neck raise in anticipation. His body moved towards the smell without him even realizing, his nose held high as he followed the scent down a block and into an old fashioned jazz club. It reminded him of the old dance halls of the 1940s, a live band playing on a stage with tables skirting the walls, making a small circle in the middle for couples to dance. There were vintage Halloween decorations lining the walls and the bar.  He made a mental note to tell Bucky about this place as the scent grew stronger and he blindly walked toward the stage.

“My lovelies!” A drag queen’s deep voice boomed into the microphone. She was dressed in an extravagant vampire costume, and as Steve looked around he noticed almost everyone was dressed in some type of Halloween themed costume or vintage clothes.  “Thank you for coming to tonight’s Autumn Jazz Fest!  Last but certainly not least, is our very own…Emerald Hallow!” The drag queen gave a great flourish with her arm and the curtain behind her opened to reveal the singer. Steve’s heart stuttered as the Alpha in him awoke. She was the scent he followed.  An unmated Omega.  The singer was short and plus size, her voluptuous curves slightly jiggling as she sauntered up to the vintage looking microphone.  She wore a long, flowy, shimmering velvet black dress with sheer lace sleeves that opened wide at her wrists with tassels swaying as she swung her arms, tattoos peeking out from the lace.  The neckline plunged down deep between her large breasts, giving the audience quite the view.  Her long nails were pointy and painted black, gently twisting the tassels as she adjusted the microphone to her height.  She had dyed emerald green hair that was long and finger-waved with two large victory rolls atop.  She wore gold earrings that had deep red hearts with what looked like blood dripping from them, black lipstick and sharp cat-eye eyeliner.  The black lipstick made her teeth look striking as she smiled seductively when the audience clapped for her.  Steve swore under his breath.  She was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

“Happy almost-Halloween, my pretties!” she greeted them, some people in the audience whooping and hollering for her.  Steve could feel a growl rumble in his chest at the attention she was getting from others, and mentally chastised himself for losing his composure.  “Would you like to hear some spooky tunes?”  Some more clapping and whooping made her smile wider.  “Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you…so needy,” she teased the audience, winking at someone off to the side.  Steve moved closer to the stage, just off to the side as the band behind her started playing.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, opening them again as her body started to move to the beat.  “They say that I’m a witch, and that I weave a spell.  Well…”

Emerald danced with her hips and shoulders like singers of old would.  Her scent became heavier to Steve as she did something she obviously loved, and it made his Alpha instincts scream at him to claim her.  He sat himself in a chair at one of the nearest tables, needing to hide his growing erection.

She held out the last note, her voice ringing out as the band hit a big chord at the end and she raised her arms.  The audience cheered loudly, the couples who had been dancing stopped to join in on the applause.  Emerald bowed and acknowledged the band behind her.  Steve clapped and watched her closely.   He was clocking all the Alphas in the audience, making note of the ones who were unmated and watching her like he was.  It made him feel like a creep, but something deep within him was not willing to just walk out and go home.  He was stuck to the spot, and would wait all night if he had to just to get a moment with her.  

She sang a few more songs then suddenly pulled out a chair from behind the piano.  “I’ve got one more for you tonight,” she said.  The audience whined loudly.  “Aaaww, are you gonna miss me?” she teased, sticking her lip out sadly.  She smirked as she set the chair in the middle of the stage and took the microphone out of the stand to freely walk around.  “I’m gonna need a big, strong Alpha volunteer,” she said in a low, seductive voice.  As her eyes swept the crowd multiple loud voices yelled out, hands raising and Alphas standing up from their chairs.  Steve stayed seated, desperately wanting her to choose him but not wanting to come off that way.  He decided to let his instincts take over for just a moment and let off a pheromone scent of himself towards her.  As her eyes continued to look out at the crowd they subtly widened and her back stiffened as her eyes instantly went to him.  Her eyes flashed as she gazed at him, and her smirk deepened.  Steve felt like the air between them was buzzing as he held her gaze, not daring to look away.

“You,” she pointed at him and then curled her finger, gesturing to him to come up.  Steve slowly got up and followed the stairs up to the stage.  There was a chorus of disappointed noises mixed with clapping from the audience as he approached her.  “Take a seat, handsome,” she said, patting the top of the chair.  Steve sat on the chair and looked up at her, memorizing every feature of her face.  “What’s your name?” she asked, standing closer to him and holding the microphone to his face.

“S–Grant,” Steve said, clearing his throat after nearly slipping up on his name.

Emerald eyed him but her smile never faltered.  “Grant.  Everybody say ‘Hello Grant!’”  She held the microphone out to the audience who chanted back at her in greeting him.  “And what do you do, Grant?”

“Consulting,” Steve said automatically, a polite smile on his face as he warred with himself not to reach out and touch her.

“How vague…” Emerald said cheekily, raising her eyebrows and making the crowd laugh.  “It’s alright, keep your secrets, handsome,” she said as she walked behind him then ran her hand over his shoulder and down his chest, her chin resting on his opposite shoulder, making them cheek to cheek.  “I like a man who is mysterious…” 

Steve let out a shuddering breath as the jittery energy he felt from her touching him flowed through his veins.  His shoulders and chest felt like they were doused with ice water where she touched him, and his cheek warmed as he blushed with her so close.  The Alpha howled at him to take her, right there in front of everyone, making his hands shake as he quickly folded them together and covered his crotch with his entwined fists.

“Can I sing this last song to you, Grant?” she said, her lips slightly grazing his ear, her hot breath making him shiver.  Steve didn’t trust his voice so he slightly looked towards her and nodded.  “Thank you,” she said, then moved away and turned to the band.  “Shall we, lovies?”

“We shall!” the band called back to her, then counted themselves in.  The melody started into a song Steve actually recognized from some music Sam had recommended to him.

Emerald walked towards the edge of the stage where Steve had walked up and then turned towards him sharply.  “Well it’s a marvelous night for a moondance with the stars up above in your eyes,” she sang, her shoulders keeping the beat.  “A fantabulous night to make romance ‘neath the cover of October skies,” she continued, twirling around and turning towards the bass player behind her, giving her a wink before facing Steve again.  “And all the leaves on the trees are falling to the sound of the breezes that blow.  You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling of your heartstrings that play soft and low.”  She stepped slowly towards him, her eyes never leaving his face.  “And the night’s magic seems to whisper and hush.  You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush!”  The band suddenly picked up, the sound swelling around Steve.  Emerald smiled widely.  “Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  She quickly closed the distance between them and leaned down, her hand reaching out and cupping his jaw, making him move toward her.  Steve’s eyes widened.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?”  She leaned forward as she held his face and nuzzled her nose against his nose.  As the chorus ended she released him and turned, jutting her hips towards him as they rocked to the beat.

“Well I wanna make love to you tonight, I can’t wait til the morning has come,” she sang, looking over her shoulder at him.  He shifted in the seat, his pants feeling even more tight.  “And I know now the timing is just right and straight into my arms you will run,” she walked behind him again, her hand doing as it had done before but this time running down his arm and squeezing his bicep.  “And when you come my heart will be waiting to make sure that you’re never alone.”  She walked around him again until she faced him, then sank down into his lap.  “There and then all my dreams will come true dear, there and then I will make you my own.”  Steve’s hands gripped her hip and her knee to keep her planted on his lap, his hands still shaking at the close proximity and at getting to finally touch her even just a little.  She wrapped her free arm around his shoulder to keep herself upright.

“And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside,” her nails gently scraped against the scent gland on his neck, making him gasp and his mouth drop open as he watched her.  “And I know how much you want me that,” she winked at him, bringing her face slightly closer to his, “you can’t hide.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together.  He was sure his face was showing nothing but pure desire right now, and couldn’t find it in himself to care.  His grip on her tightened and he swallowed thickly.

“Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  Her fingers moved up and ran through his hair, scratching his scalp, causing his eyelids to flutter shut at the massage.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you…” she held the note out as she pulled him closer, this time making them nose to nose.  The audience was whooping and hollering again, a chant of “Kiss him!” coming through the crowd as the music paused to build tension.  She stared Steve down, her eyes flickering to his lips once then back up to his eyes.  Steve was breathing heavily, waiting to see what she would do.  After a long beat she dipped her head and kissed the side of his mouth, just out of reach of his lips.  The audience was a mix of cheers and disappointed groans as she pulled away and licked her lips as she looked at him again before lifting the microphone back up to her mouth.  “My love,” she sang the last line softly, and as the band finished with a jazzy ending she rested her forehead against his forehead as she caught her breath.  Steve didn’t want it to end, holding her firmly against him as the music ended and the audience applause nearly deafened him.  He didn’t want this bubble to burst, this magical moment to end, and yet his hands slipped away when she shifted to stand from his lap.  

Emerald adjusted her dress and stood then took his hand and helped lift him from the chair, holding his hand up in hers high and then gesturing with their joined hands to bow.  Steve bowed with her and plastered a polite smile on his face as he watched her smile widen at the crowd.  “Whoo, is it hot in here or is it just me?” She joked, making everyone laugh again as they continued to clap.  “Everybody give it up for our lucky man, Grant!”  Another round of applause erupted as Steve nodded, a shy smile pulling at his mouth.  She pulled his hand towards her and opened her arms for a hug.  Steve happily ducked down to her embrace, his arms resting on her lower back as her free hand gripped his shoulder.  Her face slightly twisted and her lips were by his ear again.  “Meet me at the back door, ten minutes,” she whispered.  Steve nodded minutely before pulling away.  She released him and clapped for him as well as he waved a hand and stepped down from the stage.

As the drag queen who hosted came back out and closed the show Steve grabbed a shot at the bar, paid, then left through the front door.  He quickly rounded the building, down the alley, until he reached the back of the building.  He found the back door and leaned up against the wall next to it to wait.  He didn’t know what would happen next, but if she wanted to see him afterwards then the magical moment must have meant something to her, too.  Eight minutes went by until the door swung open and his green haired beauty emerged.

Her eyes quickly found him and she smirked.  “Grant,” she greeted him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Emerald,” Steve greeted her back, pushing himself off the wall.  “Though I’m guessing that’s not your name.”

“You guessed right,” she said.  “Though it seems we’re both using different names, Steve Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes widened and his smile fell.  He quickly cleared his throat and looked down.  “That obvious, huh?”

“Probably not to the average person,” she said as she took a step toward him.  “But most people haven’t had a grandparent that was a huge fan of Captain America like I did, who took me to the Smithsonian any chance he got to educate me about the great Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos.  I’d recognize those eyes anywhere,” she quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Though I have to say, I like the longer hair and beard look.  Makes you much more ruggedly handsome.”

Steve’s smile returned and he blushed at her compliment.  “Ruggedly handsome?”

“Oh yes,” she smiled widely at him.  She took another step toward him, making her look up at him.  She analyzed his face for a moment before she sighed heavily.  “Dirty trick you played in there, using your scent on me,” she said quietly, her smile falling.

Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Oh, um…I’m sorry,” he said quickly, embarrassed that although it worked in getting him noticed and chosen, she was obviously not happy with him about it.  

“Hm,” she hummed, looking him over.  “I was going to choose you regardless, you know?” she said, reaching a hand out and running her fingers over the lining of his coat.  “I scented you from the moment you walked in,” she said, her fingers sliding up towards his collar.  “A Manhattan cocktail, with an undertone of sandalwood and amber,” she met his gaze again.  “And a hint of petrichor.”

“Petrichor?” Steve asked, his eyes never leaving her fingers that gripped his collar lightly.

“The smell after a long awaited rain,” she whispered.  She pulled him down by his collar and guided his face towards her neck.  Steve’s arms wrapped around her like he was hugging her, his grip pulling her flush against him as he nuzzled his nose against her scent gland inhaling deeply.  He felt like he was skipping a lot of steps in the process.  Scenting another person was extremely personal, and not something done by strangers like this.  “You obviously came here for this,” she said as he rubbed the tip of his nose against her neck.

Steve groaned, getting drunk off the scent that nearly drove him crazy enough to lose control.  She gave it up so easily to him.  “Fuck…” he whispered as his tongue licked along the gland, nipping lightly at her skin.  Her fingers tightened around his coat, a soft whimper falling from her lips.  “I couldn’t tell what it was, but…” he sniffed again, his eyes rolling.  “Bergamot, rose, and sandalwood.  Like the perfumes I used to smell back in the day,” he said as his lips traveled to her jaw and then kissed her cheek softly.  “With a hint of ocean air,” he smirked at her as he pulled away to look at her.  Her eyes were hooded as she looked back up at him, her mouth open as she breathed heavily.  “Your name?” he asked.

She huffed a silent laugh as she smiled.  “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” Steve repeated it, liking the way it felt on his tongue.  

Her smile tightened.  “We should slow down.”

“We should,” Steve agreed, but didn’t let go of her.

She pulled away a little, which almost felt like a punch to his gut.  Y/N looked up at him and mischievously grinned.  “How about you take me out and show me some of that old school charm?  And we’ll see where that leads us.”

Steve chuckled at that, his smile widening.  “You took the words right out of my mouth.  Though it sounds much more smooth coming from you.”

“I can be smooth when I wanna be,” she giggled.  She gave him another look over then stepped back, reaching for and holding one of his hands while fishing out her phone from her coat pocket.  She unlocked the phone and handed it to him.  Steve quickly pulled his phone out and gave it to her as well and they exchanged numbers.  

“I’ll call you,” Steve said as he made sure to save her contact information.

“You better,” Y/N smirked.  She pulled him down by his collar again and kissed the side of his mouth, making him growl impatiently.  It only made her laugh as she stepped out of his reach.  “See you around, Steve,” she said his name in her seductive voice that she used on stage.  

Steve sighed heavily and composed himself.  “See you soon, Y/N.” She walked to the back door and knocked in a pattern, then the bass player walked out, giving her and Steve a once over and scoffing before walking towards one of the cars parked along the back alley.  Y/N waved to Steve then followed the band member, who drove off with her.  Steve watched until she was out of sight then laughed to himself.  This is going to be interesting.

This is the "dirtiest" fic I've written so far. I'm not usually a #stucky fan, but I thought I'd give a crack at it. Hope y'all like it!

[monster-disaster]

Hey, I hope you're doin' great! So... I just read that boss!orc x curvy!reader that you posted a while I go and I was thinking if you could write a part 2 for it? I'm not the one who asked for it but omggg it was so perfect. Thank you. 🥺♥️

orc!boss x human!curvy!Reader Good to know: original request, some lying and manipulation, but nothing angsty or bad, spice, spanking

He has to force himself to keep the growl buried deep within his broad chest. The rumble churns and bubbles in his throat, begging for release, but he swallows it down with a sharp breath before it can escape. His mouth twists into a wild snarl instead. His tusks, thick and prominent, dig into his upper lip. A deep wrinkle forms between his brows, furrowing so intensely it casts a shadow over his dark, piercing eyes as he stares at you through the darkened glass of his office wall.

You sit at your table, humming softly under your breath as your fingers glide over the keypad, pausing every now and then while your eyes flick between the screen and the document in your other hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, your long lashes, and the gentle gleam of your lipstick. You are wearing a sleek black piece that barely reaches the middle of your thighs. The soft fabric is snug against your curves, cupping your breasts into a delicious cleavage and hugging your wide hips just enough to make the orc's palms tingle to feel your flesh underneath his touch.

You always look beautiful in your dresses and skirts, but today, he knew something was different the moment he laid his eyes on you. You are glowing. You seem lighter, and more cheerful than usual. The way you move as you carry yourself, the brightness in your eyes, and your smile, everything about you is a touch more vibrant. More alive.

And he didn’t have to dig for long to discover the reason for it all.

His fingers curl into hard fists as the thought crosses his mind. A simmering heat flares up in his chest, twisting with something bitter and unspoken. It makes his jaw tighten and his pulse quicken.

You have a date tonight.

After the lesson on keeping your space tidy and the reward for doing so, he made the mistake of leaving things between you two as they were. He didn’t push forward. He let his head, his hesitancy, and the fear of what could go wrong win. And now, he's forced to face the consequences; you with another man. A snarl threatens to break free from his throat, but he swallows it down again. His frustration buzzes just beneath the surface. It makes his posture rigid and tense. No, the orc thinks, clenching his fists tighter. Not if it’s up to me. He can feel his resolve hardening with each passing second as he watches you glancing at the clock on your wrist with a giddy smile on your pretty lips. He had waited too long, but that was over now.

Reaching for the phone, he presses the button that connects straight to your desk. He watches you jump at the sudden noise, your head snapping up, but you answer immediately with your other hand still on your chest to calm down your rapid heartbeat.

"Hey, boss," you greet him. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember the file I sent you yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I need them for tomorrow." Even though his jaw is tight and tense, the lie slips out smoothly between his rigid lips.

He sees you freeze in your seat. "What? You said it could wait until next week."

"I got the date wrong," the orc says almost apologetically, his voice deliberately innocent. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Well... I won’t finish them without putting in extra hours," you admit. Your voice is softer now, hesitant as you click away on your computer, scanning through the files he sent.

"And what's the problem with that?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are locked on your figure the whole time.

"I... I already have a program for tonight," you respond, uncertainty lacing your words. "Are you sure it can't wait until tomorrow?" You glance at his way, but the man knows you can't see him through the dark fog of the glass.

"Are you sure you can't postpone your plans?" His voice is calm, too calm. Even though he phrased it like a question, both of you know there is only one acceptable answer.

"Yeah," you sigh in a reluctant surrender. "I can, boss."

"Great."

His satisfaction doesn't last long, though. His triumph fades as the hours drag on while he watches you from his office. Each glance at your hunched form tightens the knot in his chest. Your shoulders sag as you tirelessly type away on the keypad. Guilt gnaws at him, sharp and persistent, and no matter how much he tries to focus on his own tasks, he can't shake it off. The smile he had envied earlier has vanished from your face, replaced by a strained focus. Your pretty, shiny lips now are in a pout. The glow he had been so jealous of is nowhere to be seen. He wanted you to cancel your plans, but now that he has you all to himself, he feels like an asshole.

The thought of letting you go crosses his mind several times throughout the day, but every time he reaches for the phone, his hand hesitates above the button. Each time, he pulls back, unable to go through with it. Despite his inner battle, the thought of you going out with another man burns much hotter in his chest than the guilt that nags at him. He can't make himself let you go.

So he does nothing, and before he knows it, it’s just you and him left in the building, along with the security guard downstairs. The lamps have been turned off, leaving only his office and your desk bathed in a dim glow. The city outside sparkles with lights and neon signs. The apartments' yellow hues spill through the windows onto the busy streets and bustling roads.

The orc remains at his desk. His fingers hover above the keyboard, dancing in idle patterns without actually pressing any buttons. The bluish light from the screen illuminates the slightly curved line of his nose, the fullness of his lips, and the hard edge of his jawline. He tries to focus on the chart in front of him, his gaze fixed on the shifting data, but his thoughts are far away. They are tangled in the images of you and what he did.

"Boss?"

For a long moment, the orc just blinks at you from his desk as you stand in the doorway. The shine of your lips has faded, and you look weary, worn down by the long hours. His heart clenches with guilt once again at the sight. A sharp pang of remorse cuts through him. He should have approached this differently. He should have been honest and asked you out directly instead of pushing you into working on something he didn't even need.

"Yes?" he finally manages to ask, his voice rougher than he intended.

"I'm done."

The orc’s surprise is barely contained. He hadn't truly expected you to finish it. He almost grimaces at the thought of how much you had to hurry with it.

"Thank you, Y/N," he hums. "I’m sorry you had to cancel your... program." The mention of it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

You shrug, allowing a small but tired smile to curve your lips. "It's fine. I can go tomorrow."

The orc's jaw tightens. Being an adult, he scoffs to himself. That option is clearly out of the window now.

"Do you want to sit?" he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him. "Something to drink?" He adds, already rising from his seat to retrieve two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. "You deserve it."

You sigh with a nod, heading to the chair. "Thank you."

After handing you one of the glasses, the orc doesn’t return to his usual spot at the desk. Instead, he sits down beside you, legs spread wide. He takes a long gulp of his drink. The amber liquid burns down his throat. He watches you from the corner of his eye, noting how tired but oddly relaxed you look. Your legs are crossed, causing your skirt to ride up slightly on your plush thighs.

"So," he clears his throat, attempting to break the silence. "What was your plan for the evening, anyway?"

A long moment of silence stretches between you, and when he finally glances over, he sees a small, mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"What?" he asks.

"Don't act like you don't know what my plan was."

The orc feels himself freeze, his mind racing. "What?"

"I know you heard me when I talked about it with my friend."

"Y/N..." he starts, the words faltering on his tongue. He feels like he is in trouble, yet, your mischievous grin tells him otherwise.

"Do you want to know something?" you ask, leaning in slightly.

He nods, still not finding his voice.

"I lied," you say, barely containing a laugh as you watch his bewildered expression.

"Lied about what?" His frown deepens into a scowl.

"I lied about the date," you reveal. The curve of your lips widens, and your eyes sparkle with satisfaction and pride. "There was no date."

The orc’s confusion turns into a stunned silence. "No date?"

"No," you confirm with a grin. "I wanted to see if you cared enough to do something about it."

The orc's mouth opens and closes, but he is too shocked to say anything. You lied. You lied to see if you could make him jealous enough to do something.

You little minx.

Before he can gather his thoughts, a loud, surprised gasp escapes his lips as you stand up and settle onto one of his thighs, facing him. The black fabric of your dress stretches tightly around your legs where they drape over his. Your heat presses down against his trousers as you let your weight rest fully on him.

"Did it work?" you ask, nibbling on your lower lip. The only sign of your nervousness is the slight tremble in your hands as you play with the buttons of his shirt near his belt. You're clearly stepping out of your comfort zone, risking everything just because he couldn't muster the courage to take the lead.

His hands rest on yours for a moment, squeezing your delicate fingers as a reassuring gesture before moving up to your bare thighs. His touch is lingering and exploring. You feel soft and yielding beneath his fingers, and he can’t help but note the contrast between his firm grip and your pliant warmth.

"Did you lie to me, little one?" His voice rumbles deeply, sending a shiver up your spine.

You bite down on your lower lip, the soft flesh already swollen and tender. "Will you punish me for it?"

The orc growls low in his throat, squeezing your hips one time before hauling you up from his lap. The sudden movement punches a loud squeal out of your chest, and before you know it, you are on his table, knocking off his things onto the ground.

“Stay like that,” he growls, pressing one hand firmly in the middle of your back. Your upper body is now pressed down against the wooden surface of his desk, while your bottom is positioned toward him. The black skirt you wear rides up, revealing the lush curve of your ass and the thin fabric of your underwear.

“You lied to me,” he says, his voice heavy with frustration. “I could barely concentrate on my work because the thought of you with another man drove me mad.”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out, but you sound anything but sorry.

“You manipulated me, little one,” he continues, his anger tinged with a hint of a smile. “And now I have to punish you.”

With deliberate movements, the orc pushes your skirt higher, exposing your round ass and the thin black thong wedged between your cheeks. His cock twitches at the delicious sight.

“Ah!” you cry out when his large palm lands on your exposed skin with a loud smack.

“Now tell me,” he hums, his fingers gripping the warm, flushed skin, “was it worth it?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Despite the sting, there’s a spark of satisfaction in your voice. This was your goal all along. And more.

“So there’s no other man?” he asks, his voice rough and demanding as his hand lands on your ass with a series of loud, stinging slaps that make your whole body shudder.

“No,” you cry out.

“No one who wants to see your pretty little ass like this?” His hand comes down again with a sharp smack.

“I don’t care about anyone else." Your voice strained as you lie on the table. Your fingers clench into tight fists at the burning heat on your ass.

“Good answer,” the orc snarls, his hand moving relentlessly. Each slap makes your round bottom flush warm under his touch.

The zipper of his pants presses uncomfortably against his throbbing erection, a constant reminder of the raw, urgent desire he’s struggling to contain, but he knows that if he releases himself, there will be no turning back. He would need to be inside you immediately.

And he has too much fun now to end it so quickly.

The office is filled with the sounds of your panting and ragged moans as you squirm on the desk, desperately trying to rub your thick thighs together for some friction, but the orc quickly intervenes, pushing his leg between yours with a disapproving tsk of his tongue.

"I don’t think you’ve earned it yet," he says. His chest expands at the sounds of your pathetic whines.

"Please." Your plea trembles with need.

The orc grins, pressing his own thigh against your panty-clad cunt, teasing you without offering any real relief.

"Don’t you think you deserve your punishment?" he hums, his tone laced with amusement.

"I do," you reply in a whine, resting your forehead on the cool surface of his desk while he continues to knead your warm, sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he says approvingly, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your black thong. "I will give you pleasure when I think you earned it."

His name is barely out of your mouth when a loud gasp escapes your lips the moment the orc’s hand pulls at your panties, pressing the black fabric deeper between your flushed cheeks. The material slips between your damp folds, soaking up your wetness.

“Fuck, little one,” the orc groans at the sight of your panties almost disappearing into your fat pussy. “I would never let any man see this,” he says with a fierce possessiveness. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this sends a surge of burning anger through his veins. “It’s just for me.”

You remain silent, which earns you another sharp slap on your ass from the orc. You gasp and moan. The combined sensation of the burning sting on your ass and the thong rubbing against your pussy creates a heady mix of pleasure and pain that makes your hips grind instinctively.

“I want your answer,” he demands firmly as he lets go of your panties. His fingers slip between your ass, slipping down and finding the wet heat between your thighs. He teases you, making you shiver as you burn under his fingertips.

"Yes," you cry. "It's just for you! It's just for you!"

"That's what I like to hear," he hums, his fingers digging deeper between your swollen, sensitive lips. Your panties are ruined, the crotch is clinging soaked to your puffy cunt.

He can't wait to taste you, to feel your soft walls around his cock as he pounds into you until you see stars and know nothing but his name.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he says, his patience thinning with each passing second. “You’ll spend the night at my place, and if you’re a good girl while I feed you, I’ll take you to bed and fuck you on every surface in my house.”

“Yesyesyes,” you sob. You tremble with desperation. “Please.”

“Come on, then,” he groans, pressing his hard cock against your pussy one last time before helping you off the desk and smoothing your skirt back into place. “Let me take you home, little one.”

[impala-dreamer]

Like Heaven

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N’s request might throw him off for a second, but he’s never going to deny her, not when it feels so good in her arms…~

Dean Winchester x F!Curvy Reader

1,302 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Spanking, Dean POV, Sex

For @jacklesversebingo “What, you afraid you might break me?” | Originally published to Patreon Dec 2024

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

I’ve been to Heaven.

I have shared a beer with God.

But I have never seen anything as holy, as awe-inspiring, as fucking beautiful as when she’s riding me.

She’s usually shy, but fuck, when she gets going, when she really lets herself relax, she’s incredibly sexy. She lets her full weight drop down on me, and it’s some kinda magic because I lose my mind feeling all of her softness. The curves on this woman would drive a person to tears and they have gotten me more than once, I ain’t gonna lie. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever felt, and when she’s this close, I can’t take my hands off her.

Her lips are like goddamned magnets for mine; her mouth is like a drug. I physically can’t stop touching her, kissing her, tasting her. I would spend all night between those thick, juicy thighs just lapping at her sweet pussy if she’d let me. I would drown happily in her cum. Not even joking.

The noises she makes while I’m down there are so fucking hot, half the time I’m just rutting into the bed for some relief. She gets me going so fast, gets me so hard just with those fucking whimpers and moans and fuck- when she says my name in that high pitched, breathless kinda way, I am fucking done for.

Part of me wants to flip her over and go back to town on that beautiful cunt, but she is working some kinda spell on me right now. I feel like my brain is broken. I can't stop staring at her tits as she bounces on my cock. Up and down, it’s fucking mesmerizing. And her ass- so plump, slapping my thighs with each downward push. I can’t help but grab a handful, dig my nails into her cheeks.

Oh, she likes that. Got her biting her bottom lip. Fuck, I love that. Don’t hold back, baby…

“Dean…”

Fuck. I can’t take much more. She’s squeezing my cock like that’s the only thing she was born to do and I am not fucking complaining. Jesus. She’s so wet I can hear it. So fucking warm the rest of me feels cold.

“Fuck, Dean!”

God, she’s rolling her hips, grinding down. Fuck. If reincarnation is real, I wanna come back as her dildo so I can feel this every night. I could spend eternity like that… shoved deep into her cunt, being used to make her cum. Sounds fucking perfect.

She slams down and tightens on me and my cock is throbbing so hard it’s making every other muscle contract. I dig my nails into her ass again and she lets out a sharp moan.

“Yes! Fuck!”

Her jaw drops, her head falls back and I squeeze her ass again. A shiver runs through her, shaking her fully and I’m losing my mind. I wanna see her eyes roll back, wanna hear her scream.

“Please…”

I almost don’t hear it, her whisper’s so soft.

“What’s that baby? What do you need?”

She shakes her head like she can’t think, and sweetheart, that makes two of us.

I slide my hands from her ass to her hips and hold tight. I love how my fingers dent into her softness, making dimples of flesh. So fucking hot.

“Tell me what you want,” I say, holding her tight and taking over for a second. I jerk my hips up into her and I swear it looks like she’s about to fall apart. “Tell me.”

She takes a breath and looks down at me. Her eyes are heavy and hazy, her lips parted. If I could reach, I would suck on those pretty lips, hold her close until we’re breathing for each other.

She seems nervous but I buck up again and she moans it out, letting go of her worry.

“Spank me…”

Time freezes for a second as I wrap my head around her request. Sure, I’ve spanked a few chicks in my day, but she’s never asked before. I didn’t think she’d be into it.

Her palms hit my chest as she falls forward. “Please…”

Now, I am nothing if not a people pleaser, so I give her a little wink before slapping her left cheek.

She tenses up on impact and fuck if it doesn’t make her pussy even tighter.

“Harder…”

I kinda hover over her ass debating how hard I should go. Gotta remember, I can knock a demon right out of a guy with a good right hook, so I need to be careful.

She sucks in a breath and I spank her again. I can feel the sting on my palm so I know she’s feelin’ it too.

A shudder goes through her straight into me and I bite my lip so I don’t say something corny or sexist. But fuck if there’s not some porn level filth runnin’ through my head.

“Harder,” she says again, curling her fingers into my chest. It feels good but her nails are so long I’m afraid she might scratch off my tat.

I hit her again and she smiles a bit, but still wants more.

“Come on, Dean! Hit me!”

Two taps this time and she groans.

“What, you afraid you might break me?”

Now she’s got my blood boilin’ all over again and I let her have it. My hand cracks over her ass and I’m sure for a second I’ve gone too far but she melts like butter on a biscuit.

“Fuck… yes…”

Her entire body tingles and her pussy swallows me down. Fuck, she’s so tight I’m not gonna last much longer.

“Again. Please!”

I can’t see it, but I’m sure I’m leaving a handprint on her backside. I slap the same spot and she falls down, her tits crushing against my chest.

“Yes…”

She’s licking at my lips and I crack her plump ass again.

“Fuck, Dean!”

I spank her again and she muffles a scream in my chest.

She’s bouncing on me even faster now, getting wetter with each crack. I swear to God my vision’s going blurry and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack but what a way to go.

Suddenly, she’s up again and I’m stuck there, somewhere between death and an orgasm. She leans back, puts her hands on my thighs and stretches herself out over me. She’s using me like a goddamned fuck toy and I am loving every minute of it.

She bites her lip and I slide my hand over her soft belly, turn my fingers down and tap on her clit.

She shakes like she’s being electrocuted so I do it again.

“God, Dean!”

Now, I’m far from being the Almighty, but I’ll take it in the bedroom setting.

“Yeah? You like that?” I ask, rubbing at her little nub and watching as her thighs start trembling.

She nods, so far away from being able to speak anymore.

“You gonna cum on my dick?”

As soon as I say it, it’s like I pressed a button and she does. She fucking cums hard on my cock. Her insides are pushing and tugging on me like some kinda damned finger trap and I can’t hold on any longer.

She’s still pulsing and I sit up and grab her, bury my face in her tits. She’s barely holding on but I got her, keeping her right there as I jerk up into her a few final times until I’m fucking broken. Cumming. Done.

I can’t let her go. Not just yet.

She’s wrapped her arms around me, got her fingers running along my scalp. I can hear her heart beating, feel her breath slowing down.

It’s fucking heaven here with her and I never wanna leave.

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[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Content Warnings: modern AU, smut, vaginal fingering, hand job, vaginal penetration, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: Another entry for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge (drive in setting, dialogue prompt in bold/italics), a verrrrrry late entry for @bigtreefest Essie's Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration (public sex/trying not to get caught) (and shhh, Essie said I could be as late as December, but this is just/only Labor Day Weekend), and week 13 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer (free week).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You didn’t want to watch this scary movie. Scary movies were not your thing.

But you didn’t know that the local drive-in movie place was doing Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays - a double feature night with a different rom-com and slasher fic every week when you said yes to your stupid hot neighbor Bucky Barnes. He’d asked if you liked drive in movies and if you’d go with him, and you hadn’t thought even a second before accepting.

Bumping into him throughout the building since you’d moved in last spring, sure, it was problematic to have a crush on a neighbor, but he was stupid hot.

Which made you do stupid things - like accept a date with him.

You canceled plans that you’d already had in favor of this date.

Typically you weren’t a fan of movies as a first date, but since it was a drive in, not a theater, you’d have your own space and not bother anyone if you actually wanted to talk - but if for some reason stupid hot Bucky Barnes turned out to be a dud, you would also be able to tune into the movie without seeming totally rude.

Privacy? Yes. Good.

A little bit of talking? Also yes.

He’d picked you up in his big pick up truck, which meant at the drive in, he’d backed into the spot, and now you were in the bed of the truck on a camp mattress and blankets.

Things had been lovely for the first flick - which turned out to be one of your favorites. The two of you had chatted sporadically but easily throughout. There’d been a short intermission where the two of you took a walk, stretched your legs, and gotten some ice cream from the concession stand.

All of that had been lovely. Easy time with him.

It had allowed you to trick yourself into the false confidence that you could handle the other half of the double feature.

But the slasher fic had you jumpy, scooting closer and closer into Bucky’s chest, until now you had your face permanently half hidden against his chest.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you chirped. 

“Are you sure? We can leave, I really don’t mind, I’ve see this at least twenty times.”

“No, I’m - I’m fine,” you said quietly. 

He murmured your name against the crown of your head, planting a kiss there. “We don’t have to stay.”

But that little kiss? Being tucked cozily against him? Your whole body was humming with butterflies and warmth despite the cool evening summer breeze flitting over your skin.

“I’m safe here,” you hummed. 

Bucky ticked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You sure about that?”

You giggled - genuinely but with a surge of nerves. “You’ll protect me.”

He smirked. “Only from everyone else.”

“Is that a threat?” You arched a brow and smirked. 

“It’s a promise,” he replied, lowering his voice, ducking closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

You shivered, and he chuckled and pulled you closer. You laughed into his chest, resting your hand lightly on his sternum. “Honestly, if you ever become an actor, don't ever do a slasher flick.”

He scoffed. “What? Why’s that? I’m not such a terrible actor!”

You looked back up at him and shook your head. “I’m not convinced. But also, I’d have to go see it, and clearly I wouldn’t be able to handle that experience.”

“Fine, I promise, I’ll tell the non-existent agent for the acting career I’m never pursuing that slashers are off the table.”

“Good.”

Bucky shifted to make both of you more comfortable. As he shifted, his strong arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer against his broad chest. You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine.

"You know," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear, "I'm really glad you came out with me tonight."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and those piercing blue eyes. "Me too," you whispered.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time - just spend time with you. But now you’re driving me crazy, and I can’t keep my hands off you."

Your breath hitched as his hand slowly slid down your arm, savoring every curve and dip. “Then don’t,” you responded. You slipped your leg up over his thigh, tangling your limbs together.

His touch was gentle yet purposeful, exploring the softness of your skin. You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers ghosted over the swell of your hip, squeezing lightly.

"I love how you feel," he whispered, his voice husky. "So soft, so perfect."

His hand continued its journey, caressing the generous curve of your waist. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, craving more. Bucky's fingers splayed across your stomach, appreciating the plush roundness there.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Bucky's fingers danced up your arm, caressing the soft skin. He traced the curve of your shoulder, then along your collarbone. His touch was feather-light but left a trail of heat in its wake.

You tilted your head back to look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and intense blue eyes. Bucky's gaze roamed over your face, lingering on your full lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky reiterated, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed yours softly at first, tentative and questioning. You responded eagerly, pressing closer and parting your lips slightly.

Bucky took that as invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you flush against him. You melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his firm body against yours.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues exploring as passion built between you. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and muscular back, marveling at the strength you felt there. Bucky's own hands weren't idle, caressing your curves with reverence.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow," you whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wow is right."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. You jumped, startled by the sound from the movie. Bucky chuckled against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," you mumbled, feeling a heat creep up your neck.

"Don't be sorry," Bucky murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I think it's cute how jumpy you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Glad my terror is entertaining for you."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Well, I do enjoy being your protector."

Another scream rang out from the movie, making you flinch. Bucky's arms tightened around you instinctively. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. "I'm usually not this much of a scaredy-cat, I swear."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Sure, sure. I believe you." His tone was teasing, but his arms stayed tight around you.

The score for the movie swelled and pursued a chilling tenor, making you tense. Bucky's hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently pressing your ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the film.

"Better?" he murmured.

You nodded against him, feeling safer wrapped in his strong arms. "Much better."

His fingers combed through your hair soothingly. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment if the movie's too scary."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Bucky's eyes darkened as they roamed over your face. "I can think of a few ways to distract you from the movie."

His hand slid down your back, coming to rest on your hip. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling you against him. Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body pressed against your softer curves.

"Oh?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like what?"

Instead of answering, Bucky dipped his head and captured your lips in a searing kiss. This wasn't like the earlier kiss - soft and exploratory. This was heat and passion and barely restrained desire. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Bucky's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of your lower back. You arched into him, craving more of his touch. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your skin.

You tilted your head, giving him a quizzical look. This man you had categorized as stupid hot because he was so handsome it couldn’t be real seemed to be as gone for you as you were for him.

"I'm driving you crazy?" you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You're the one who's been making me lose my mind for months now."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his blue eyes searching your face. "Really?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Really. I've had a crush on you since the day I moved in. Why do you think I always seemed to be doing laundry at the same time as you?"

A slow grin spread across Bucky's face. "And here I thought I was the one making excuses to run into you."

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Looks like we've both been idiots."

"Well," Bucky murmured, leaning in close again, "then we should make up for lost time, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding. You melted into the kiss, savoring the feel of his strong body against yours. His hands roamed your curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body arching against Bucky's. His hands roamed lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Bucky," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "We're in public."

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Don't worry. No one can see us back here."

To prove his point, he rolled you both so you were lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. The truck's high sides and the darkness of the drive-in lot provided a surprising amount of privacy.

Bucky's lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his abs.

"God, you feel amazing," you breathed.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more.

Bucky's large hand cupped your breast, kneading gently through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped at the sensation, your body heating up despite the cool night air.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the movie made you jump. Bucky chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you.

"Still scared?" he teased, his thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.

You shivered, both from his touch and the reminder of where you were. "Maybe a little," you admitted.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "We can stop if you want," he murmured, his hand stilling on your breast.

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I don't want to stop. I just... I've never done anything like this before. In public, I mean."

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just cuddle and watch the rest of the movie if you want."

You bit your lip, considering. The fear of getting caught was thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. But the way Bucky was looking at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, made you want to throw caution to the wind.

"I want you," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his hand resuming its gentle kneading of your breast. You arched into his touch, your body humming with need. His other hand slid down your side, fingers teasing the waistband of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips.

“Mmhmm, please touch me, Bucky,” you pleaded, craving more.

Bucky's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. His hand slipped inside, cupping you through your underwear. You gasped at the contact, hips bucking up into his touch.

"So responsive," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe. "I love it."

His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clothed center, building the tension coiling in your belly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed.

Bucky's lips trailed down your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply as he made contact with your bare flesh, stroking through your folds.

"God, you're so wet already," he groaned against your collarbone.

You whimpered as he teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

"Bucky, please," you breathed, not even sure what you were begging for.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he slowly pushed one finger inside you.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing you softly. "Gotta be quiet, remember?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short pants as he began to move his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing small circles that had you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped Bucky's broad shoulders as he worked you closer to the edge. The pleasure was building rapidly, your hips rocking against his skilled fingers. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your whimpers and gasps against his skin.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmured encouragingly. "Let go for me. I've got you."

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. Combined with the steady pressure on your clit, it was quickly becoming too much.

"Bucky," you gasped, your body tensing. "I'm -"

"Come for me," he growled softly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

The coil of tension in your belly snapped. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your orgasm hit. Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as you shuddered against him.

As you came down from your high, Bucky slowly withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss, feeling oversensitive and boneless. He pressed soft kisses to your face as you caught your breath.

Then he licked your slickness off his fingers, and your breath hitched as he groaned at the taste of you. Your hand trailed down his chest, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you asked.

Bucky groaned softly, hips bucking into your touch. "You don't have to-"

You cut him off with a kiss, your hand continuing to rub him through his jeans. "I want to," you murmured against his lips. "Please, let me make you feel good too."

Bucky groaned, his hips rocking into your touch. "God, yes," he breathed.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, suddenly feeling clumsy with anticipation. Bucky chuckled softly, reaching down to help you. Together, you managed to unfasten his jeans and push them down his hips.

You slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. Bucky hissed in pleasure, his head dropping to your shoulder. You stroked him slowly, marveling at how hot and thick he felt in your hand.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned softly. "Your hand feels so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, you increased your pace, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Bucky's breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your grip. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, growing even harder if that was possible.

"Wait," Bucky gasped, gently grasping your wrist. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

Your breath caught at his words, desire pooling low in your belly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, Bucky."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as his hands worked to push your jeans down your hips. You lifted your hips to help, shimmying out of the tight denim. Bucky's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs as well.

The cool night air hit your heated skin, making you shiver. Bucky's warm hands ran up your thighs, parting them gently. He settled between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core.

Bucky reached for his wallet. You raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a condom.

"Presumptuous, weren't we?" you teased.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he tore it open. "More like hopeful. You sure about this?" he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching for the condom and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I'm sure. I want you, Bucky." You took his stiff cock in your hands and rolled the condom down slowly over his length.

Then you laid back, and he guided his tip to your entrance. He groaned softly, capturing your lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the stretch, your body accommodating his impressive size.

Bucky stilled once he was fully seated inside you, giving you time to adjust. You both moaned softly at the sensation of being so intimately connected. He peppered kisses along your jaw and neck as you breathed through the initial stretch.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You nodded, running your hands down his muscular back. "Yeah, you can move."

Bucky started with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed. The movie's soundtrack provided some cover, but you still tried to keep quiet.

"God, you feel amazing," Bucky groaned softly, his hips snapping against yours.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built rapidly.

"Bucky," you whined.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach until they settled on your sensitive clit. The gentle pressure of his thumb against you sent sparks of pleasure through your body. "Come for me," he whispered in your ear, urging you on as he continued to stroke and tease your sex. You couldn't resist the sensations, and soon you were gasping and moaning in ecstasy, and he swallowed up as much of your sounds as he could with another kiss.

Bucky's movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. You clenched around him, still riding the waves of your orgasm. The added pressure pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. The sounds of the movie filtered back into your awareness - screams and dramatic music that seemed absurdly out of place now.

Bucky lifted his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "That was..."

"Amazing," you finished for him, grinning.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling very exposed. Bucky noticed your discomfort and quickly helped you redress, then took care of himself.

Once you were both decent again, he pulled you back into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling sated and content.

"So," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, "I think it's safe to say this was a successful first date?"

You grinned and looked up at him. "I'd say so. Though I'm not sure how we're going to top this for date number two."

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something. I've got plenty of ideas."

"Is that so?" you teased, trailing your fingers along his jawline. "Care to share?"

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "How about I show you instead? Say, next Saturday?"

Your heart fluttered at the promise in his eyes. “Just no more slashers, deal?”

“Deal,” he chuckled, then sealed it the best way, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips in a kiss.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SEQUEL: the morning after

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[lyeofhell]

sooooo I’m thinking about plus-size!reader joining a pole dancing class because you’re just so bored and need something to do while John’s away on missions…

thinking about keeping it a secret when he texts you in the middle of class, asking you what you’re up to and only replying with “nothing.” thinking about John coming home after being away for months, unpacking his clothes to find your 7-inch platform heels sitting at the bottom of your shared closet, and when he picks them up with an arched brow, you only giggle and grab them from him, telling him it’s a surprise. later that week he’s being drug down to the studio, sitting in on your little dance recital and trying to keep his breathing under control as your fellow students whoop and cheer you on. the way you curl around the pole, arching your back and flaunting your hair, it all only accentuates your curves, and John’s digging his own fingers into his palms as he considers all the ways he could tear into your softness. all the ways he could fuck you senseless and feel the ripple of his force in you. and all the ways he could punish you for keeping this a secret from him when you could’ve been sending him videos all this time.

by the following week a pole is installed in your master bedroom. and after he gives your ass a proper beating, followed by a train of soothing kisses, he sits a chair in front of the pole - leaned back, legs spread and expectant, cigar hanging loose from his grinning mouth as he tosses a nod towards the pole,

“Give us a show, sweetheart.”

[slut4menig]

Guys my age

Paring: Luke Castellan x Curvy AphroditeFem! reader

Req: hii can you please write a prompt in which Luke is 19 and reader is 16 and he thinks the age gap is too much as doesn’t see her as anything more than the kid he is counselling, but she’s an Aphrodite child so she doesn’t mind the chase, you can make it smut or not iyw!! also do you maybe mind making the reader like chubby/curvy? i love your work!! 🫶🫶 - 💜 Anon

ofc u can be!!! also omg i actually kinda hate this but whatever… hope u enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI, big age gap, cursing, drinking, use of smoking, reader implied to be curvy

Luke Castellan, a 19-year-old at the infamous Camp Half-Blood, stood tall and pretty almost like a loyal dog, and that made it near impossible for anyone to resist his charm, he’d had a go at almost all of the girls at camp half-blood, including all of my beautiful half sisters.

His unruly curly brown hair framed his handsome face, and deep brown eyes, which seemed to look straight into my soul whenever he gave me a task, even something as simple as asking to clean my dorm, held a hint of mystery. A small scar on his upper cheek added an intriguing touch to his otherwise perfect appearance. Luke is the epitome of a golden boy, capturing the hearts and attention of girls of all ages, young and old.

I’m only 16, luke had never dare even batted an eye at me last year but this year, I came back to camp, determined for a chance to stare into those beautiful eyes and have it mean something for him too. Since last year, i’d started to… well develop. My body had formed into a nicer shape, i certainly grew into myself. My chest was definitely a lot bigger, I started using normal bras, no more training ones. My thighs were thick and beautiful, something many men wished to be suffocated with.

“hey gorgeous girl, you’ve certainly grown up” My half sister Silene winked at me, I only ever see her at camp and I was packing my stuff into my bed. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“Silene seriously? i haven’t seen you in a year and that’s the best you’ve got?” I immediately hug the girl as she chuckles quite a bit at my sharp tongue, we all start talking to our other half siblings and that’s when one of them goes

“hey y/n, you do realise you’re now technically old enough to be going to the bonfire party?” my half sister smirked

The bonfire party was tradition, 16 and up campers, it involved heavy amounts of marijuana, alcohol and other illegal shit. It was an excuse for people to get drunk and hook up and deeply regret it the next morning or so i’ve heard. It’s almost like a “back to school” party but instead it’s back to camp. It happens on the one night that Chiron is away and Mr D is in charge, of course, you bribe him with some alcohol and suddenly everyone’s happy.

“yeah uhh i’ll go, we should start getting ready then i guess?” i say, a bit on edge of what’s about to happen.

As i’m getting ready, i’m being handed a black lacy corset top showing off my double d tits extremely well, i look in the mirror and smirk, this is one of those times i KNOW i looks good. I wore a mini skirt along with it, sure i looked like a slut but hey? what can you do?

I enter the Bonfire, the glow of the fire casually illuminating my face in a perfect light. In hand was a red solo cup with… tequila and some other concoction i’ve been handed, i take a sip and spot him. Luke Castellan, my camp counsellor and the man I was practically already on my knees for. He made his way over to me and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/n? wow you look… grown up” His eyes clearly wandered around my tits a lot more than they should’ve, and he almost looked as if he scolded his self for looking but i wanted him to, this whole outfit was for him

“oh yeah? in what way?” i smirked and slightly tilted my head, trying to seduce the boy infront of me

He cleared his throat and came back to eye contact “You’re uh.. you’re taller” no i wasn’t, it was a blatant lie, i hadn’t grown an inch over the year, i knew what he was talking about and smiled to myself about it.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Luke and I both turn our heads to a very drunken silene who’s perched up on the table, some guy with his arms wrapped around her waist and mouth colliding with her jaw.

And who was anyone to say no to my beautiful sister? Soon everyone found themselves sitting in this circle, bottles of Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Jäger and other liquors in the middle of the circle, ready to be there for whoever backed down from a dare.

“Clarisse, truth or dare” An Apollo girl slurred, looking into clarisses eyes from across rhe circle. Clarisse smirked and in return took a sip of her drink.

“Dare” It wasn’t surprising, her choosing dare.

“I dare you, to kiss me” the apollo girl smirked at clarisse, they obviously had tension and clarisse made her way over and kissed her, passionately i might add. The entire circle cheered and cheered.

Clarisse suddenly averted her gaze to me, we’d been friends for a while now whenever I hung out with silene she would be there.

“y/n, truth or dare?” I felt myself nervously stare at her, a group of maybe 25 people waiting on my reply to this one simple question she’d asked. It wasn’t that hard of a question so i gave a simple answer.

“Dare” I wanted to play it safe, truth was too much for me right now, I knew it would end up in me having to tell a huge secret and I just wanted a casual night, nothing too crazy, which was why i was baffled as to what came out of Clarisses mouth next.

“I dare you to spend 7 minutes of heaven with the person you think is the hottest, and don’t try bullshit your way out of this lovebug” Clarisse was obviously feeling happy with herself, she was tipsy as one could be. Actually no, she was just shitfaced.

I felt my body begin to grow weak and i scanned my eyes across the room, except i found one thing. No matter how hard I looked around the room, my eyes were always drawn back to Luke castellan. The man himself.

“uhh luke…” I said, everyone cheered and Luke looked at me a bit confused as to why I’d chosen him. Nevertheless we walked into a secluded spot in the woods.

“Y/n I uh… why’d you pick me?” Luke looked at me as he leaned against a tree and i stood there looking up at him

“why not, they said to pick the hottest person there” I shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“You do realise you’re far too young for me, sweetheart?” Luke muttered at me in a deepish voice.

“I know but what did three years ever do to anyone?” I smirked, it was time for me to use the powers my mother gave me and capture this boys beautiful heart.

“Y/n i- i was- no! still am, your camp counsellor, you don’t think this is a little weird? you coming onto me.. I mean, you’re hot but” Luke said conflicted with his own thoughts at this point.

“Oh would you shut up castellan I saw you looking at my tits earlier, don’t act like you’re surprised i’m coming onto you” I smirked at him, giving him doe eyes and fluttering my lashes

“you’re such a brat, you know that? you need to shut up, it will get you killed someday, that pretty mouth of yours” Luke furrowed his brows and almost scolded me

“how about you make me shut up?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered this seductively into his ear.

“oh I can think of a few ways” Suddenly I felt Luke’s warm tongue slip into my mouth, his deep kiss sending sparks to my pussy.

he pushes me against a tree, his hands roaming over my body possessively. “Fuck, you're so young and pretty, tell me, you ever fucked anyone?” Luke continued to say as he slipped his hands to the back bit of my corset top

“n-no, i’m all yours” i managed to breathe out, goosebumps trailing over my body from his cold hands unclasing my top.

His hands reach under my bra, feeling my soft skin. He leans in, kissing my neck, my collarbone, as his hands grope my breasts. His hot breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine. “that’s perfect pretty girl, let me take care of you okay?” luke then continued to kiss my forehead and unclasp my bra

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he says, his voice low and husky. He starts to slip his hand up my mini skirt, his hands shaking slightly. “I bet your pussy is so tight and wet...”

i groan at his words, whimpering at the boys touch. “I- do it…”

“I can’t, I can’t ruin something as perfectly innocent as you” Luke looked at me in the eyes, piercing me with his gaze

“i’m less innocent than you think you know” I trailed my hands to unbutton his jeans and i watch his eyes widen

“what did you lie on your book log in elementary school?” he chuckled trying to distract himself from his hard on being revealed

“yknow i hump my pillow most nights wishing it was your dick” i whispered in his ear, i could feel the head flush on his face as his erection was poking into my thigh.

“fuck… pretty girl… that’s so hot, i wanna fuck you senseless, show you what a man is” he collided his lips to my collarbone and sloppily kissed it, his hands making his way to my soaked panties, rubbing it through them

“all soaked for me, pretty?” he looked up at me as i nodded, biting my lip to hold back a moan. I felt him slide my underwear off and crouch down, i felt the warmth of his hot breath against my sticky wet pussy, his tongue beginning to lap it, finding my clit and sucking on it with a pop.

I became a moaning mess, begging for mercy and for luke to continue fucking my hole with his tongue just the way he did. “mmmph~”

His hands spread my thighs wider apart as his mouth works its magic. His tongue swirls around my wet, throbbing flesh, sucking and licking with expertise. I can't help but moan loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. “Luke... please...”

He can feel my body shaking with need as he continues to eat me out, his own arousal growing with each moan that escapes my lips. He sucks my clit hard, his fingers sliding inside me, curves up to rub against my G-spot. “Come for me, baby...”

His fingers pump in and out of me in a rhythm that matches his tongue on my swollen bud. The sensations overwhelm me, and I dig my heels into his back, shamelessly bucking against his face as I shatter, screaming out his name. “Luke...Luke...”

As I reach my peak, something inside me breaks. I convulse hard, and suddenly, a rush of liquid gushes out of me, drenching Luke's face. He moans approvingly, lapping up every drop like a thirsty man.

I become red from embarrassment and stare at the man in horror.. “oh my god luke did i- did i just pee on you?” Luke did nothing but grin at me, his wet face glistening in the moonlight

“No baby, it’s called squirting and it was the hottest thing ever” he grabbed my hands away from my face

After cleaning me up with his tongue, Luke gently lifts my legs over his shoulders, positioning himself at my entrance. He looks into my eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. “Okay, beautiful girl, this is going to hurt, but I'll be gentle”

I look up at him, tears welling in my eyes. He smiles softly, "Good girl. It'll start feeling good soon, I promise." He leans down to kiss me, his hips pulling back slightly before pushing in again, deeper this time.

As he continues to move in and out of me, his pace picking up slightly, Luke leans down to take one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His thumb finds my swollen bud, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Luke... oh god, Luke..."

I cry out as my orgasm hits, my vision blurring, my body trembling. Luke doesn't stop, fucking me through my climax, his own need evident in his face. "Fuck, pretty girl, you're so fucking tight right now. I can feel your little pussy squeezing me."

As he thrusts into me, his pace becomes erratic, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Y/n. I don't know where to put it all," he groans, his eyes wild with need. "Where do you want it, huh?"

I gave Luke those oh so beautifully innocent doe eyes he’s currently corrupting, i batter my eyelashes and whimper as i speak

“I want you to do it inside of me luke” Luke’s eyes widen at the prospect but doesn’t have time and gives in.

“You’re lucky i can’t say no to those beautiful eyes of yours baby” With a low growl, Luke buries his face in my neck, his body convulsing as he spills inside me. He jerks his hips against me several times, unloading more and more of his warmth into my inexperienced core. "Oh gods."

He pulls out and we both lay there breathlessly.

“that was a lot more than 7 minutes…” i whisper sheepishly as i catch my breath and put my clothes on

“i’m sorry i had to be your first time… you do know we can’t be together right? i mean you should really be with a guy your age?” Luke refused to look in my eyes as he slipped his boxers on

“but guys my age aren’t… you”

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts — feeling a little insecure about your body

| including. bang chan, lee know, changbin, hyunjin

type. not requested

warnings. f!reader, talk of weight, being a curvy/plus size girlie

a/n. as a curvy girl who’s been having mixed feelings about her appearance her whole life, i kinda wrote this for myself😬 it can be hard to feel comfortable with our bodies when a lot of the content we see glorifies skinnier bodies, i myself got so many times weird or rude comments based on my appearance and it felt good to imagine scenarios where someone would be there to reassure me about my insecurities, i hope these will have the same effect on you guys and that you’ll like them mwah <3

maknae line

[bunny-jpeg]

aperol spritz

captain john price

cw: summer fic, rich!price, pwp/smut, bulky!price, cowgirl position, seduction tactics, retired!price, age gap (reader is in her 20s), afab!reader, nipple/breast play, in birth control we trust, mid/plus sized!reader, italian summers here we come,

bunny says: here comes the sunshine! happy summer everyone <3 written while listening to "italian vintage summer"

you met him at last call in a party that you and your friend snuck into. it was in a terrace in a decently sized town in southern italy. you weren't looking to meet anyone that night, let alone anyone during your entire trip. it was your last vacation before you finished your university diploma. you were more interested in sight seeing than wealthy british men who offered to buy you a drink.

"you look a little lonely." he remarked.

you chuckled, "my friend is chatting up a local." the drink was placed in front of you. you took a sip of it, the coolness of it compared to the heat of summer felt good.

you looked over at the man who was trying to chat you up. he was taller than you, short brown hair, blue eyes, interesting facial hair choices. his skin looked tanned from too much time in the sun, the sight of his larger arms was enticing. he noticed you staring.

"the name is john, john price."

you reached over to shake his hand, "you sound like a bond character with that name."

he shook it gently, calloused hands touched your own, "maybe i am. maybe i'm on a secret mission to find the most beautiful woman in all of italy... to of course save the world."

you gave him a look and playfully nudged his shoulder, "alright sweet talker. i guess you haven't found her yet?"

he shook his head, "actually ma'am. i have." he placed his hand over yours, a bold move. he leaned in a little closer, "she's standin' right in front of me."

-

in hindsight, maybe ending up in bed with a british man on a breezy italian night wasn't the brightest idea. but the way he looked at you, the draw of his voice.

"well, don't ya look lovely." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and started to untuck his white button up out of the waistband on his slacks.

you stood there, close to the doorway to the bedroom. you were in nothing but a matching pair of white bra and panties. it wasn't the most existing garments ever, but the way that price's eyes raked across your semi-naked body made your pulse jump.

he unbutton his shirt and kept his eyes on you. the faint breeze off the water came through the window. you leaned a little further against the door way, your thighs pressed together and your arms crossed.

"c'mere." he said in that thick accent of his, "i want to see if this is real or my imagination after too many rum and cokes." he laughed as he took the shirt off his body, leaving him in a white undershirt.

you swallowed at the sight of him with less clothing on, you got a good look at the strength in his arms and chest. you licked your lips to compose yourself before you got closer to him, "so." you stood in front of him, staring down at him, "why are you in italy?"

"didn't you already guess? i'm a secret agent."

you chuckled, "right, right." your eyes scanned across his body, "i guess it's all top secret."

he stood up and suddenly loomed over you. he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor, followed by his pants coming off. he then placed both his hands on your shoulders and said, "well, i guess i can let you in on a little secret."

you placed your hand on the front of his undershirt, "i love a good secret."

"former british army, captain and all." he chuckled. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips gently, "now that i've told ya." he picked you up by the middle and lifted you off your feet. he beamed at you, "i have to kill ya." then placed you on the bed.

you burst into laughter, "no one has ever really picked me up that easily." you covered your face to hide your embarrassment as your laughed.

he took off the undershirt and said, "well, you haven't meet people like me." which was followed by his underwear, "picking you up was like holding an expensive bottle of wine." he caught you in his arms as the two of you softly kissed.

"a big, strong, handsome britishman? i think i've seen a few of those." you joked and were met by another round of kisses that made you melt.

you two kissed on top of the white sheets, that felt nice against your heated skin. he held you by the back of the head as he deepened the kiss. he was a lover in a lot of ways. to be flirted with by someone so handsome was something that made you warm all over.

he took his time getting your undergarments off, he peeled your bra off of you like you were a fine treat that he needed to unwrap. once your chest was bared to him, he kissed at your breasts. his large hands fondled them as he licked across your left nipple.

"beautiful." he said softly, his blue eyes gazed up at you, "so perfect." his smile grew, as did yours. you combed your fingers through his hair as he worshiped and played with your breasts.

your legs mingled with his as he kissed and sucked at your breasts. your felt jitters pool in your gut from the feeling that raced in your body. he felt like a dream, your mouth went dry when he dragged his tongue lazily from the top of your breast all the way to your nipple.

"ah, john."

"you sounds perfect saying my name." he purred in response. his motions continued until you were soaked, he brushed his knee against your slick folds and made a soft sound against your breasts. he then looked up at you with those daring blue eyes, "are ya ready, love?"

you cupped his face and looked at him. you noticed the lines in his face and the grey in his hair. your heart leapt, despite the probably drastic age difference. he was undeniably handsome. you craned your neck to kiss him before you said, "c'mon captain price, show me what all that service can do."

he chuckled and rose up against you. his strong arms wrapped around you once more, you felt the muscles move against your torso, "call me captain again, love. and you'll be in a world of trouble."

you fought the urge to call him that again. instead you rolled yourself on top of him and prayed to the birth control gods that your daily pill worked like it should.

he gazed at you like you were a marble statue there for his worship. his strong, rough hands grasped onto your hips. feeling the fat on them. he said softly, "i understand why they craved statues of women with curves." he chuckled at his comment before he met your gaze, "because they are more beautiful than any other art created."

you covered your face once more, "oh my god."

he laughed, "see, i like that. i know you're hot all over. i can feel it." his cock was so close to slipping inside of you, "i want to know if that cunt is as warm as the rest of you."

you pulled your hands away from your face and positioned yourself on top of him. he held onto you and you held onto him as you sank down on his impressive size. you almost felt your stomach in your throat as you fully seated yourself onto him.

"that's it, love. just like that." his words were encouraging as the two of you moved to establish a pace. it was like your bodies knew exactly what you both wanted, if not needed. the connection was strong and the hum of pleasure in the back of your mind kept you going as you thrusted.

"ah. john." you whimpered as you rolled your hips. you held onto his chest, the hair between your fingers as you moved up and down on his cock.

the breeze cooled your heated back and your nipples remained hard. his chest hair and over all strength felt good against your body. it was a feeling of being fully protected. he engulfed your like a comforting flame as you re-positioned yourself to get the best angle with your movements.

"that's my girl." he purred, "my darlin' girl. you look so good. i wish i found ya earlier in my trip. we could've had a lotta fun on the coast." he beamed at you.

his hands dug further into the meat of your hips as he met your thrust with the same lust hat you carried. the metal frame of the bed squeaked under your movements and the headboard rocked against the pink painted wall.

you fucked with all the windows to the hotel room were open. you moaned like the sounds didn't make it street level. but you didn't care. the rush that went through you as you moved up and down onto his cock.

your cheeks felt swarmed with warmth as you felt his hands move up and down you sides, getting a feel for the angel on top of him. you traced your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle.

"yeah, that's it." he said softly, the heat in his face went all the way down his neck, "you feel so good, love." he chuckled then his jaw tensed as pleasure rolled through him.

you reached for his face and held it to face you, your eyes met and you pulled him in for another searing kiss. your heart thumped in your chest as the kisses became sloppy and the two of you edged closer to your orgasms.

his facial hair brushed against your cheeks, you felt so warm on the inside. it was like gooey caramel had melted in the pit of your stomach. you pulled away to catch your breath and placed both hands on his chest once more.

the pleasure filled the room, the heat that clung to your skin and the sweat at your temples. price's words were filthy with how much he thought you were so beautiful. you had never been buttered up like this before.

his grip grew harder and he took a bit more control of the pace. his cock hit against your most sensitive parts as the bed continued to creak. it wasn't long before you were panting.

your toes curled and light bulbs flashed behind your eyes. pleasure washed down like heavy rainfall and the air left your lungs. you managed to squeak out, "holy shit." before you relaxed and found comfort on your lover's chest.

price continued to hit your sweet spots with his cock. but the weight of you on top of him only made pleasure seep through his bloodstream. his head felt heavy with lust as he gave it a felt more strokes before he finished inside of you. for a moment, he realized that he never asked about protection. but he was in too much of a state of bliss to let his mouth ask the questions.

you both laid there, enjoying each other's company. he moved your head and kissed you once more on the lips. the kiss was sloppy and eventually led to a second round in bed.

the a third, followed by a speedy fourth. by the end of it you were both bone tired and you knew you wouldn't be walking right once you got up.

"that's my girl." he drew before he fell asleep on his back and his hand across his bulky abdomen.

when price was well and asleep, you slipped out of bed. you collected your clothing without making too much noise. you redressed in the hallway of the room before you walked out with your heels in hand.

that was quite the story to tell your friends back home. your face stung with a blush by the thought of it as you walked down empty streets before sunrise.

-

a month later you got a text message while you were back at home enjoying your new semester in school. you almost choked on your drink when you saw who it was from.

'hi, love. it's john price. we met in italy a while back. i was wondering if you wanted to go back, expect you don't leave in the middle of the night.'

it didn't take long before there was money being deposited into your paypal with the note 'for our little vacation'. maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to end up back in bed with a man like price. after all, you never gave him your phone number or paypal information.

but you thought about those arms, his kisses and the strength of his fucking. so it didn't take long before john price nabbed himself a pretty young thing.

xoxo, bunny

[selfishdoll]

❛you gonna eat me out?❜ ━━ ft. geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & kamo choso.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ the silly tiktok trend i be seeing. woman pays & asks if she’s getting ate out tonight 💀

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ mature & sexual content (obvi), ooc!characters, & minor voyuerism in geto’s.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ a quick & stupid drabble i made during work. i don’t know if this needs to be said, but reader would have paid either way 😭. lowercase intended & please excuse typos or grammar mistakes <3

GETO SUGURU ✶ ˖ ›

the two of you had finally found some time for a date; both off work, the girls spending the night at their favorite uncle’s place.. you decided to treat your loving partner to a cute little wine and dine, something geto deeply appreciated.

the night went by smoothly, chatter and flirting illuminating the scene; all while the delicious food and wine filled your stomachs.

now it was time to pay, you reaching into your purse after assuring the check looked right. hand clasping the card, you blinked for a second before a little smile crossed your features.

you rose, looking at geto who was currently busy scrolling on his phone, waiting on you. “suguru.” you called out, his dark eyes instantly flicking to you. you tapped the card against the table, pretty smirk stretched across sparkly glossed lips. “you eating me out tonight?” your eyebrows rose as the question exited your lips, spotting a reddish hue form across his cheeks.

your question had taken him by surprise, clearly, the man setting his phone down for a moment. finally suguru chuckled a little, back straightening in his seat. “if you don’t want me to do it here, i suggest you hurry up and pay.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, tapping your card against the machine— watching as it swirled before confirming your payment. you jumped from your seat whilst grabbing your things, suguru following close behind you.

you gave the staff quick goodbyes and thank yous, rushing towards your car.

unfortunately you weren’t quick enough, given he was already pushing you away from the passenger to the back seat, ignoring your soft protests.

you had paid for your meal at about 8:30 and you didn’t leave the restaurant parking lot until 10:00.

GOJO SATORU ✶ ˖ ›

there were few times gojo ever let you pay for anything, especially on date nights. he likes to spoil you and will protest if you even mention paying for yourself or him. tonight was different, you were adamant on paying for dinner and was not taking no for an answer.

he was stubborn, but you were much worse.

after the enjoyable night of his witty jokes and swatting his wandering hand under the table, it was time to pay. gojo was currently glancing over the dessert menu while you were busy grabbing your card from your purse.

whilst searching for it, the words slipped out your lips as smooth as honey.

“you eating me out tonight?”

without missing a beat, the man answered matter of factly; “well, i do need a dessert.”

the words had you stammering, suddenly clammy hand finally gripping the card and turning to spot the man grinning at you. of course when you try to fluster him, he’s turning the tables on you.

“i hate you.” you spoke softly, tapping your card and placing it away once the payment was confirmed. satoru jumped up first, waiting patiently for you to grab your purse.

“no you don’t.”

NANAMI KENTO ✶ ˖ ›

date nights were far inbetween given your work schedules were always so different. on the days you had off he was working, and on the days you worked, he was off. it was a mess but there are times you made it work.

like today. nanami was adamant on going to dinner with you, despite how tired he was. you felt a little bad watching him push himself but he only mumbled about being fine, and he wants to spend time with you.

the only plus side to times like this was he wasn’t as resistant as he usually was when it came to you paying for him.

you talked to kento inbetween grabbing your card from your bag, the man giving a few gruff hums and chuckles. as tired as he was, he wanted you to know he was still listening. pressing the card against the machine, you perked up and glanced at him. his eyes were closed, arms crossed while listening to you. you gave a small smile, letting the fated words spill from your mouth;

“you eating me out tonight, kento?”

“yes ma’am.”

you blinked wildly at this, tucking the card back into your purse. “did you hear what i said?”

kento nodded, closed eyes opening to look at you. “i did. come on.” he hummed, rising from his chair— you following close behind. his hand found the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant — stopping to say thank you and goodbye to the waiters — and to the car.

the ride back home was calm and silent, on kento’s part, given your little heart was pounding against your chest.

needless to say, no matter how tired kento is.. he keeps his word.

KAMO CHOSO ✶ ˖ ›

choso pretends he doesn’t mind you paying for things, but will definitely nudge your hand away when you try to do so. fortunately he allowed you to pay, reluctantly, of course.

you smiled at the man as his lips clasped around the spoon you held, enjoying the ice cream as it melted in his mouth. pulling your hand back, you placed the spoon down and reached for the little machine parked at the end of your table.

nodding to yourself after looking over the check, you reached for your card, choso resting against the chair with a soft hum; patiently waiting.

whilst grabbing the card the little idea popped into your mind, turning to your boyfriend with a delicious smile. one he rose an eyebrow at.

“you eating me out tonight?”

this only furthered his confusion, covered arms crossed across his chest. “don’t i always?” he spoke in a mumble, wondering if you had some sort of brain damage.

“well yeah, i was ju—“

“i get it.” choso interrupted before you could finish, raising from the booth once you were done paying. “guess i fucked you too dumb earlier. don’t worry, i’ll just have you come on my tongue as many times as it takes to jog your memory.”

needless to say, choso got his fill and then some.

reblogs & comments are welcomed & appreciated <3