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velvrei · 2 months

Note

can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD.

a/n at the end

tell me more

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments

a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy

nsfw below the cut!

you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.

meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.

the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.

you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.

as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.

“you guys done yet?”

both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.

a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.

"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.

"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."

"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.

"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.

wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.

"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.

“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.

“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.

“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.

wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.

before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.

“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.

you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.

they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.

“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”

wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”

you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.

the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.

when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.

you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”

johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”

you sighed. “well i have.”

logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”

logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.

after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.

she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.

“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.

“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.

it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.

you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.

the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.

when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.

they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.

“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.

logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.

as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.

“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.

“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.

“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”

he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”

about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.

“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.

“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.

wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.

“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”

wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”

wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.

“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.

“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”

your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.

you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”

you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.

“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”

logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.

wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.

you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.

logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.

you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.

“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.

“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”

“yes.”

logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.

logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.

when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.

logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.

when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.

you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.

wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.

wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.

you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.

you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.

you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.

you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.

you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.

when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.

"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.

you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.

"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.

"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.

you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.

logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."

you could tell something was up. something different.

you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.

“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”

as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.

which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”

and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.

you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.

later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.

"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.

"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.

"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.

"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.

after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.

you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.

it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"

the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.

cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.

as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.

was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.

you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.

you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.

"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.

he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.

finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.

"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.

"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.

“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."

logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."

you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.

he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."

you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."

with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.

when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."

his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.

"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."

his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.

logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.

you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.

you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.

another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.

he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.

you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.

the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.

as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.

you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.

you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.

as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.

you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.

you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.

logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.

he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”

his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.

he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.

you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.

you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.

you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.

you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.

“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.

“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.

“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”

logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”

the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.

his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.

“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.

he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.

“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.

“you gonna make me guess?”

with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.

“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”

you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.

“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.

he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”

your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.

“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.

“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.

“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.

you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.

you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”

your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.

“what did you just say?”

you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”

your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.

“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”

your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.

he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.

you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.

"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."

he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.

you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."

you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.

"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.

"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.

"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.

"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”

you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.

"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."

logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.

the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.

“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."

his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.

“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.

his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.

he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.

he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.

his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.

he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."

his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.

his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.

he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.

his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.

the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.

you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.

"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.

"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.

but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.

"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.

"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.

your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.

"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.

he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"

his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."

his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.

he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.

you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.

he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.

his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.

even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.

he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.

“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.

“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.

“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”

you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.

“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.

all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.

“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”

your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.

“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.

"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.

the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.

"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.

your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.

"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.

he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.

he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.

you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.

your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.

you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.

he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.

his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.

he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.

he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.

instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.

he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.

he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.

he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.

“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!

#logan howlett smut #velvrei #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #trending #smut imagine #smut #writing #velvrei smut #deadpool and wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine

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gutsby · 9 months

Text

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

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dcartcorner · 2 months

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marks

(animated gif below the cut - warning for image flashing)

#tma #the magnus archives #fanart #jonathan sims #smirke's fourten #fears #i think they're all there at least aha #if people find the gif too much let me know i can take it down #tma spoilers

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rafedaddy01 · 21 days

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READER GETTING A TATTOO “r c” BETWEEN HER TITTIES PLSSS😫😫😫

Summary: you show rafe the little surprise you got just for him, and he can’t get over it

Warnings: smut! smut! smut!

“Rafey.. I have a surprise for you” you whisper into your boyfriend’s ear as he sleeps soundly in your shared bed. “Wake up”

“Mmm, baby? You finally home”

You’re a little tipsy from the night out you had with your girls. “Look, I got this just for you”

Rafes eyes suddenly pop open, wide awake from his sound slumber, “holy shit-“ he groans as he stares at your perfectly supple breasts and down the middle you have his initial R with a heart next to it. His dick immediately standing at attention.

“Do you.. do you like it?” Your suddenly nervous as his expression gives no hope of him liking it but rather of shock. “It was stupid, I- I was a little drunk, and-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, sloppy and filled with utter lust as his tongue speaks to you the words he isn’t able to communicate. “This is the hottest thing you could do. Marking your body as my territory, all mine”

He lifts you onto his lap as his lips attack yours once again, his big hands fall to your hips as he grinds your body’s together. Your tight little club dress riding up your thighs and exposing your pantyless crotch against his hard cock.

You moan into his mouth and he devours it.

Both of you are animalistic as you kiss like your starved. Like you can’t get enough air, mouths open wide and tongues fighting for dominance.

You can’t even pull away as your hands work down his boxers and you grip his cock, rubbing his angry mushroom tip against your sore and needy clit. You whine as you feel an electric shock of pleasure shoot up your spine.

Rafes lips move down your neck and chest, when he gets to the tattoo he kisses it softly and it makes your insides melt. When his lips latch onto your right nipple you push down on his cock and both of you groan from the stretch.

You give yourself a minute before you start rocking, feeling how good he stretches you open the more you push down on him. He continues to suck on your sensitive nipple before moving to the left one and sucking harsher.

You’re bouncing ferociously at this point. The slapping sound of skin filling your room, the slick of both your juices (mostly yours) slipping down your thighs and onto rafe and the bed as it acts as lube.

“Close” you whimper as your legs shake and tremble with pleasure. Rafe grips onto your hips and your palms smack flat against his chest for stability.

He starts thrusting up into you and taking over as you fall against his rock hard body, nuzzling your face into his neck and kissing.

He’s pounding so hard below you that the bed moves and squeaks and the headboard bangs repeatedly against the wall.

All that’s heard is your moans and small squeaks of Rafes and yes’s before you have the most mind blowing orgasm ever.

He doesn’t stop thrusting up into you until his own release hits him and he lets a strings of groans and I love yous fall out into the air.

You feel the warmth immediately, his cum painting your insides white and making you feel warm and fuzzy and safe.

His thrusts slow as he keeps his cock in you and the cum drips out of you and all over him and the bed, but none of you care as both of you doze off into the night.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover

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loveindefinitely · 7 months

Text

༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added

// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //

Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.

Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.

It's off-putting.

All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.

"Sit-rep, Diamond?"

Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."

Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.

You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.

Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.

Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.

"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.

Right.

König.

The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?

Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.

"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.

Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.

With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.

When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.

You were correct, of course.

So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.

Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.

You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.

You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.

Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.

Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.

And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.

Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.

Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.

It's nothing like you've ever experienced.

This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.

"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.

Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.

"Affirmative," König answers then.

"I haven't seen you before."

Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.

"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.

Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."

...Graves.

The last name of your target -- the son of your target.

"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"

"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.

"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.

"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile.

Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…

You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.

Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.

"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.

You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.

"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.

Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."

Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."

Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…

Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.

"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.

His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.

Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't.

However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence.

"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.

Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."

You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.

He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.

"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.

"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.

Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.

With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.

...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.

This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.

But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.

"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.

You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.

"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle

protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.

"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.

"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.

With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.

"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.

You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.

a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.

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angelfrombeneth · 9 months

Text

LET ME BE THE JUDGE OF THAT - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Enzo are best friend, you have a bi-weekly gossip session at the astronomy tower during your bi-weekly smoke break. During said gossip, Enzo drops some juicy goss about a certain slytherin boy and how he's 'packing', iygwim ;)

Warnings: SMUT, Switch Theo and Reader, Mentions of Smoking, Graphic descriptions of sex, Slight Male!Receiving Oral, Squirting

A/N: I apologise for any spelling mistakes or slightly off sentences. I did proof read but I am dyslexic with acrylics on so my spelling gets progressively worse.

Theodore Nott. The man he was. He was one of your friends, he was in the group of the original slytherins from day dot. You always harboured something towards him - you just didn't know if it was feelings or pure lust. The man was an absolute pantie dropper. He just got even hotter with puberty.

Though he wasn't as much as a whore as Mattheo, he definitely stuck his dick in a few things (stupid bitches). There were many rumours about him but no one knew it was real, no one kiss and told with him. For all you knew he could've been an absolute virgin. But one of the rumours was true, Enzo mentioned over your bi-weekly free period cig break in the Astronomy tower.

"Oh! I've got some goss for you" Enzo chuckled as he pointed his slender fingers at you. His cigarette perfectly slotted inbetween his index and middle.

"What?" You looked over at him intruiged, as you stayed sat against the railing of the tower, your feet dangling over the old cobble below.

"Theo" He smirked. If you were a dog your ears would've perked up. The way your body instantly sat up straight away as you looked over at him more alert than ever. Your hand paused infront of you, the cig butt burning out. "Its big" He winked.

"Oh fuck off 'Zo" You took a puff from your cig, letting it hit your throat before exhaling. "You're full of shit, I'm not sitting here and listening to you bullshit another stupid 'Big Dick of Hogwarts' again. Do you know I actually got with Adrien just to fucking see" You rolled your eyes.

Enzo laughed "Did you actually?!"

You nodded as you inhaled the smoke from your cigarette, flicking the end as ash fell from the tip. "Well embarassing too, was so turned off at the.. what 3 inches I had to work with, just walked out" You groaned.

Enzo snickered but collected himself. "I'm serious though, it's literally huge. He sent a picture to the lads groupchat-"

"Why?" You cut him off

"We wanted to compare dick sizes so we measure it against our DADA text books" Enzo shrugged.

"You lot are fucking stupid..." You shook your head. "But.. out of interest where abouts was it? Would you say centered with the authors name in the centre or? I know the book is 15 inches tall" You spoke, putting out your cig on the metal bar.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are a freak" Enzo laughed putting out his cigarette beside yours. "But it was to the title lettering"

You stood up in shock. "You're saying Theodore Nott has a 9 inch penis.."

"How do you know the size- Wait I'll just show you" He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the groupchat and showing you the picture. Now with Enzo, if you couldn't guess it by now, he was the male gay of the group - him and Pans representing the rainbow together. You all thought it would be Blaise he turns out he ended up hitting it off well with Luna Lovegood.

"No.. fucking way" You gripped the muggle phone as you stared at the picture. "This makes me want to fuck Theo even more 'Zo. I've been toying with the idea but fuck this solidifies it"

Enzo laughs "Well he's been having a 'dry spell at the moment' said he can't get it up because of an 'inconsistency' he said but he won't tell anyone. Sounds like he's seen something that'll only make him hard".

"Inconsistency? Pfft, I'll be the judge of that" You smirked.

"Oh I bet you will" He snickered.

"Jesus, this cig break was crazy" You laughed, giving Enzo his phone back and the two of you walked down the steps of the tower.

"I'll update you if I hear anything more from Mr 9 inches" Enzo winks.

You shook your head bidding him a goodbye.

Later that day, You made your way into the dungeons, walking to Enzo's dorm to tell him about the crazy fight between Astoria and a random Ravenclaw over Draco.

"Zo you'll never fucking believe it. Astoria ate shit today and got her ass handed to by a Raven...claw-" You flung open the door, looking up and locking eyes to chest with a very naked, towel covered sadly, Theo.

"My eyes are up here bella" He smirked.

You gawked at him, shocked to see him, especially how chiseled he was... as your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

"Bella?" Theo chuckled at your frozen figure.

"Respectfully Theo, I've always found you so fucking hot. But now I'm going to have to definitely suck you off" You smirked up at him.

He snickered as he gazed at you. His tongue running across his bottom lip before biting it. "You really dont play around... Come on then"

You slammed the door behind you as you lunged yourself at Theo, crashing your lips onto his. His hands roaming your body as your slid from his shoulders to his damp chest. Your fingers working through the crevasses slowly.

"My.. my.. So eager" He laughed as you pushed him back against a bed while yanking at the towel watching as he caught himself with his hands on the bed, sitting up as he supported himself completely naked.

You bit your lip as you dropped to your knees. "Fuck.. Enzo wasn't lying" You placed your hands on his thighs.

"What?" Theo froze.

"Enzo showed me your dick pic.. Its even bigger in person though" You bit your lip.

"Fucking Enzo.. So you saw my cock and now wanna suck it because of a picture?"

"Yeah pretty much" You licked a stripe up the base of his shafts to the tip as you peered up at him smirking as he let out a shaky gasp.

"You are a weird one Y/N.. Now hurry up before I fuck your face with it" He groaned slightly agitated at being teased.

"He also said about your inconsistency to get it up Nott.. you seem to not be having an issue" You smirked as you took his length into your hands as you jerked him off slightly as you kissed up his pelvis.

"Don't act so suprised bella.. We both know it was because of you and that cheeky thong of yours. Why'd you think that was OK?" Theo sighed as he bit his lip peering down at you.

"Me?" You questioned.

You peered outside your door, looking left and right before slithering out. You really wanted to grab some water from the kitchen but it was so late and you couldn't be asked to wait till breakfast.

You snuck out the common room, running down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water but also stealing a few biscuits while you were at it.

You had successfully made it back to the common room, slowly walking down the stairs before turning to walk up the stairs to your dorm. You felt a presence near you but you, looked around and saw no one. So you shrugged it off.

Third POV

"Fuck-" Theo hissed as he flicked his cigarette out the window as he stared at your figure stood at the end of the stairs.

The way you stood in your little black knee high socks, paired with an absolute ravishing black lace thong - leaving nothing to Theo's imagination. Not only that, a tiny crop top with underboov practically spilling out. Theodore was spoilt by this view. He noticed you didn't notice him as you crept back upstairs. The growing tent in his joggers as he stood up to readjust but ending up moaning at the slight friction of the fabric.

What you didn't know, is that night Theo went and jacked off 6 times thinking about you. He'd never came so much, let alone been so weak for anyone. You were all he could think about for weeks. Even when he came to the situation of fucking a random ass Ravenclaw after a party, he couldn't get it up. It wasn't until he thought about that night. You. He could. He ended up ploughing the fuck out of that poor Ravenclaw imaging the girl was you. After that he vowed to celibacy until he could get his hands on you.

"What are you talking about" You laughed as you kitten licked his tip, staring up at him as he fought back his moans. His fists whitening as he clenched then tightly.

"I.. saw you" He gulped, submitting and sitting on the bed as you shuffled closer. "Two weeks ago- You went somewhere I don't fucking know. But you were in a tiny fucking thong and- there was just so much boob and ass.." You tilted your head as you stared at him. "Y/N- I fucked my shit so hard- I fucked a random bitch- I nearly fucking moaned your name" He was pratically begging for you at this point.

You stood up, straddling his hips as you smirked at him, caressing his cheek. "I'm flattered Nott, if you wanted to fuck me you should've just asked" You bit your lip.

"God- S'bad.. I want you so bad Y/N" He pratically whimpered as his cock twitches up against your thigh.

"Who knew Theodore Nott was a begger.. especially with all this" You chuckled, running your hand up his whole length. You lifted your thong to the side as you lined up his dick with your entrance as you slowly sank down on it. Sighing softly as the poor boy whimpered under you.

"Good boy" You cooed, ruffling his hair as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth, biting your lip at the feeling of his dick moving inside of you, hitting your G-spot every. fucking. time.

"I fucking hate.. how weak you make me" He whines, a soft pout upon his lips as his hands grasp at your clothed breasts through your uniform.

You capture his lips, kissing him softly, speaking between the breaths- "You're so.. fucking.. hot.." You sighed as you arched your back, throwing your head back as you gripped his shoulders as you sped up the pace as you rode him. Your hips buckling against his chest as you left out soft whines and moans. Supporting yourself by your arms but you were growing weak. As much as it was hot to see a submissive Theodore, his dick was perfectly hitting your G-spot every fucking time that you were crumbling.

You threw your head forward, looking at Theo as you panted, your mouth open agape as you stared down at him. Lust in your eyes. "Ruin me Nott" you gagged out.

It was like a code word or something. In that moment, Theo pulled out and flipped you over. Ripping off your uniform but leaving your tie on. Slapping your ass harshly as he theusted his dick back into you, tugging on your tie, choking you slightly as he began to piston into you from behind. You gasped, a moan catching in your throat as your head leaned back slightly at the tug of the tie as you felt Theo's hand grip at your neck tightly as you gasped.

"Good girl.. Be good for me.. principessa" He whispered lowly as he let go of your tie, wrapping an arm around your waist as he yanked you up, leaning your back against his chest. You moaned lightly, gritting your teeth as his dick absolutely crushed your insides. His lips upon your neck, biting and sucking on the skin, as his free hand gripped your left breast.

"Fuck!" You whined out as you gasped. The overwhelming feeling of his dick and his touch was driving you insane. "I'm co-" You screamed out as he sped up his thrusts. You gripped his thighs, digging your nails into them as you screamed out. Your eyes rolling back as you let out a low groan as you came harshly against his dick.

Theo let go of you, letting you fall forward against the bed as you panted heavily, breath shaky as you gripped at the sheets below you. His dick still in you as he stared down at your twitching body.

"I'm not done yet, amore mio" He smirked, slapping your ass as he pulled out. Flipping you over as he leaned over kissing you softly. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling his closer as you sucked on tongue as he gasped feeling him enter you once again.

"Theo- I don't think I can take anymore" You panted, giggling softly, slightly scared.

"You will" He smiled at you, kissing your cheek as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. "I need to cum too, and you need to come atleast 2 more times" He winked.

His lips captured yours as he kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand finding it's way through his curls as you tugged on them with each pummel into your G-spot. Theo definitely knew how to use all inches of his deadly weapon. You did question why you left it so long.

He pulled away, peppering kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, nibbling and sucking lightly occasionally scattering hickies and marks. "So. Beautiful" He growled as he grit his teeth. His grip on the headboard directly above you tightened as he thrusted harder onto you.

"T-Theo" you yelped, scratching down his back harshly with your sharp acrylics. Gasping as he cocked his leg up slightly hitting into you at a tilted angle driving you insane.

"Doing so good, darling. You look so beautiful" He pecked your lips as his grip tightened on his bed frame, thrusting faster as the bed below the pair of you began to creak with each movement. "Good girl.. You are doing so well" He kissed your cheek softly as you let out a soft string of moans.

Your eyes rolled back slightly as your panting became erratic, your toes curling as you shrieked, digging your nails further into his back. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck- I'm cumming!" You screamed out as you arched your back, your legs twitching as Theo continued to relentlessly pound into you, showing no remorse for your sensitive state. You yelped loudly, throwing your head forward, locking eyes with him as the knot harshly unwrapped in your stomach as you came harshly against him. He continues to fuck you through your high causing you to squirt. Everywhere.

You threw your head back, squinting your eyes as you gritted your teeth whining as your hands fell from his back to the sheets as you fisted them. It took you a moment to come round, you were seeing white during your high. You noticed Theo slow down, but still continuing to slowly pump into you. You felt his hand caress your cheek as he chuckled softly.

"You alright bella? Thought I lost you there" He smirked softly as he kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, panting softly, pulling his neck as you placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You're going to kill me Nott.. How have you still not came-" You groaned.

He laughed, hooking his arms under your thighs, he lifted you up causing you to shriek. The boy stood up, lowering you once against fully on his length. His hands gripping your ass as he thrusted into you. Your body recoiling against him as your skin slapped harshly against his.

"Fuck- There-" You gulped biting your lip as your hands gripped his shoulders.

"Love making you feel good.. I could make you cum all day, I don't care if i do too" You groaned, his jaw tensing as you noticed his dick twitch inside of you. He walked across the room, your body rebounding every thrust back into him as you whimpered lowly. He pushed you up against the door, his pace quickening once he leant u against it.

"Fuck yes! You're so tight for me bella, just for me-" He moaned softly into your ear as his face buried into your neck. Soft whimpers leaving his lips turning you on even more. Your hips bucked against him as you tightened your core as you began to lift yourself to bounce up and down. Soft moans leaving your lips as he bit at your neck, whining into your skin.

"M'close!-" He yelped, gulping as he kissed your roughly. You pulled him as close as you could as he continued to plough into you against the door. The pair of you gaining closer and closr to your releases. His thrusts progressively becoming more erratic.

Suddenly, Theo halted before he drop you to your feet, pulling out as you gasped at the sudden lack of pleasure. He pulls you to the bed again, pushing you face first down as he climbed ontop of you. You had no time to compute what was going on or question him. It all happened so fast. His legs eitherside yours trapping you down as he slaps your ass. A soft yelp leaving your lips as he spread your ass and thighs with his hand as he pushed back in. The boy was fucking mounting you like a horse.

He kisses your shoulder messily as he bites down on it, his thrusts becoming messy as you gripped at the sheets again. "Tell me if your- uncomftable" He groaned in your ear. His thrusts growing messier and messier as he sped up. His poor bed frame screaming for a break, constant creaking and slamming against the wall as you both moaned. You were worried for the dorm next door, the pair of you didn't think of a silencing charm.

His whimpering driving you over the edge as you screamed into the pillow. Theo knew you were close, he could feel it as you tightened around him.

The boy chased for his high along with you. You both letting out some rather unattractive groans and whines as you drew close together.

"Sei cosi' sexy" (You're so sexy) He groaned, nibbling at your shoulder as he continued to whimper softly in your ear. His pants become erratic as he continued to thrust into you, at a wildly animalistic pace. "Mio, tu sei mio..~" (Mine, you are mine..~) he whined out, pushing your hair aside as he sucked at your neck. His pants becoming gasps as his dick twitched inside of you. You had no clue what he was saying, but his Italian accent was making you even more wet.

"FUCK!-" you screamed as you sobbed into the pillow, biting the plush object as you harshly came against his thrusts as he sped up one last time, before delving deep inside of you, practically burying himself and his cum deep inside of you.

"Porca puttana, cosi' stretto! Tutto mio. Ti amo, cazzo-" (Holy shit, so tight! All mine. I fucking love you-) He groaned as he held himself above you, his arms shaking as he panted heavily. "Holy fuck.." He collected himself before pulling out and crashing beside you, pushing his hair out of his face.

The pair of you had a few minutes of silence, panting heavily and collecting yourself together.

You lifted your hair out of the pillow as you turned to look at his fucked out face beside you. You let out a soft snicker as you moved to cuddle him, putting your head on his chest.

Theo didn't know you knew a bit of Italian not much, but enough to know he just professed his love for you.

"Ti amo" You smiled up at him. His face shot to you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"You understood?-" He gulped.

"Only slightly but, I love you too Theo" You kissed his cheek.

He shook his head, laying a soft kiss on your lips.

The two of you cuddled a bit longer before you retreated to the shower where you went another round. You don't know how you did it. Your legs certainly hate you at this point. He decided to leave some nasty bite marks and hickies on your thighs. He even drew blood a few times but that's something the two of you can toy with later...

Later you stumbled down the stairs in one of Theo's tshirts. Your hair very messy and skin peppered in hickies and bites from neck to thigh. Theo followed behind you.

You noticed your friends sat upon the couches in the common room.

You looked to Enzo "Can confirm it is definitely 9 inches" You both laughed as your friends look at you confused.

"Who-" Draco questioned before gasps came from them all as Theo walked downstairs, covered in scratch marks, bites and hickies as he stood behind you ruffling his hair in just his trackies.

"Oh my god" Pansy gawked.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut #harrypotter fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #angelfrombenethfics

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anantaru · 2 months

Text

・✶ ｡ synopsis — fucking your enemy doesn't really sound like a good plan or wait, maybe it does! <3

warnings — enemies to lovers, fingering, playful childe, fem! reader

childe always approaches you with that damn smirk on his face, his gaze intense and unwavering, a sprinkle of confidence playing on his lips.

the harbinger had always been your enemy, the embodiment of danger and excitement, and despite the many battles the both of you had fought, you couldn't lie to yourself but admit that there was an undeniable pull between you— a connection you refused to acknowledge, even to yourself at times.

"ah, you fought well today," childe's was barely out of breath as he throws his hands up in the air to feign defeat, his voice low and husky, a dangerous edge to his tone, "but you're not as strong as you think you are, heh."

without batting your lashes, you glare back at him with your body tense of anger, every single nerve inside on edge, "—and you're still as arrogant as ever, childe."

fuck, how much he adored it whenever you showed him a little of your sweet temper, it's a little salty too but he doesn't mind that— in fact, it gets him going and arouses something deep below.

naturally his smirk widens the moment you say it, his eyes darkening with something far more primal that he'd originally let on, "me? arrogant? oh am i? or am i just confident?"

you roll your eyes and before you could even find a good enough response, he instantly closes the distance between you in a swift stride— without haste, folding your spirit in half with his presence becoming overwhelming.

in an attempt to turn around and leave his hand grabs towards your arm, gripping your wrist with a surprising gentleness that was never experienced before by you, yet with the strength you've known far too well, one that left no room for escape.

"you think you can hide it from me? i can see it in your eyes, you know," he murmurs underneath his heightened breathing, slanting towards your face closer and closer until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, "the way you look at me, you see? the way your body reacts when I'm near like that— ugh, you're so shy, but I know you've been dreaming about this, as have i, or haven’t you?"

your heart races at the absurdity in his sentence— or was there even a sprinkle of a lie inside of it? how long until you cannot run from the feelings you harbored for him anymore? or was it simply lust that kept the drive inside of yourself working.

a mixture of fear yet also excitement floods your senses— you really wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, his words struck a deep chord within you, you're doomed and yes, in fact, you had dreams about him— of feeling him inside you, feeling his cock twitch and thicken while he's grinding himself in you, fucking your tight cunt as the fantasies of surrendering to the raw, forbidden desire consumed you.

you knew he must be good in bed, amazing even, there was no chance in hell that he wasn't with that striking personality of his.

"cut the crap childe, i don't know what you're talking about," you stammer back, but my dear, don't you hear? your voice betrayed you just this second, right in front of his eyes as you began to tremble with the weight of your secret longing dying to be set free.

"oh? but i think you do," he whispers before saying your name so sensually that it felt like someone's set your body on fire.

the man continues as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck;

"you've wanted this for so long, right? this—"

and before you could muster a response, his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that made your brain rewire, the touch of his lips strong and ruthless as one hand slid up to cup the back of your head, holding you firmly in place.

you weren't surprised by how childe kissed you, in fact, you imagined how it felt like— granted, it was better than you originally fantasized.

the kiss was rough, as if he was looking for an answer, and it shattered the last bit of your very resistance as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body igniting with a fire you had tried so hard to suppress— yet, was it actually bad that you went against your own beliefs? just this once?

of course, you both were on different sides, supporting different agendas but this— fuck, this, it felt so good, why was the darkness childe expelled so mesmerizing? like biting into a poised apple and still relishing in getting tainted?

the harbingers hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he had every right to do this and his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine before he pushed you against the cold stone wall, the contrast between the cool surface and his heated skin only heightening your needful senses.

although before going further, he abruptly stopped the kiss, at last lapping across your bottom lip and seeking your gaze, "tell me you want this, i need this," he growls against your lips, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising energy, "tell me you've dreamed of this moment too."

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, a shaky whimper escaping your lips as you felt the grip on you tighten. each one of his touch, his breath hitting your skin and his words played into your beating heart and you couldn't, you just weren't able to stop your body from liking this.

your back arches a little as to show him without words, without needing to admit it— right now, you weren't sure if you could ever say it out loud.

like snowfall, his touch was cold, but it felt oddly comforting.

but you let him move forward as one hand slips beneath your clothes, finding your wetness between your thighs, your folds messed up and puffy for him. "childe i— i... i want this too," you admit against your own volition, the words tumbling out before you could even stop them, "i’ve dreamed of you, childe, maybe..."

you got him now— or, does he have you wrapped around his finger instead? regardless, his eyes blaze with a glistening triumph hanging over his irises as he captures your lips again.

he begins slowly, his fingers working around your hole with expert precision, circling your entrance and collecting your slick with such precision which you originally only knew of his ways of fighting as he coaxes out every inch of your pleasure.

you're writhing and hiding your moans into his chest, the volume of your whimpers growing when he pokes one finger in.

with a growl, he rips your shirt aside to expose your breasts, the fabric tearing in his haste— and before you knew it, his own jacket followed as you helped discard them quickly.

"look at me," he commands, "feel how i touch you there," as his voice resembles a rough whisper.,"i want to see the look in your eyes when i touch and touch you,"

you obeyed, meeting his gaze, your breath hitching as he thrusts one finger into you with a single, powerful flick forward.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming, not due to the fact that he was beginning to stimulate your hole with fast thrusts of his digit fucking in and out of you but the sole thought of childe doing it was the final nail in the coffin.

your heart was beginning to hurt from riding his fingers, furiously rattling against your ribcage as you threw out the last amount of dignity you had inside your body, becoming one with the movements of his hand before starting to seek it.

his wet tongue drags from your neck towards your collar bones before reaching your nipples, immediately taking one in his mouth as the heel of his hand began to press into your clit painfully hard, the feeling only multiplying when you shoved yourself into it more, better and deeper, until your body flashes you with a heat you cannot escape.

one more finger, more, and each pump turned rougher and moredemanding with the pace of his hand being relentless, cruel as you almost climaxed by just looking at him— how his wet lips left a trail of saliva on your slicked chest and ugh, that delirious glimmer in his eyes.

childe truly likes the feeling of you clenching around his knuckles, he might become addicted to it, and he believes he'd actually die a happy man if he'd be able to feel you squeeze around his thick cock like that.

but you have to do it just like that, with your pussy drooling over his desperately and touch depraved, so he could taste you right after, yeah? have you all around his tongue.

he's not sure if he can even fit inside, ah, how excited he gets when he imagines your eyes glow and turn all big and pretty when he lets you see him from below his clothes— he knows for a fact he will make it fit.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe x reader #childe x you #childe smut #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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kooberryfields4ever · 2 months

Text

lucky

hello !!!!!!! was not expecting this to get as long as it did nor did i expect the turn but what can i say i am a creature driven by self satisfaction……… :( anyways originally this was gonna be like a 1k max drabble bc i rewatched jks sleepy eepy sweetie live and he was twitching and looked so pretty that i HAD to write something domestic !!!! but i am an ANIMAL and thinking about jungkook sleepy in the morning made me feral😇 hope u enjoy!!!!!!!!

wc: 2500+

content warnings : fluff & smut below the cut, light nipple play, fingering, jungkook has a cute panty kink(?), jungkook is an unstoppable force, unprotected piv sex, gendered terms (the word “girl” is used & detailed desc of female anatomy), messy orgasm

MDNI !

You’ve been awake for ten minutes now, just watching Jungkook twitch in his slumber. It’s early morning – a little after 8:00AM – and he looks so unbelievably beautiful under the gentle sunlight flittering through the blinds. With a soft smile on your lips, your eyes trail over his eyebrows, paying attention to how they raise and drop in his unconsciousness, moving down to his relaxed jaw and the divots of his shoulder blades when your gaze lowers. The gentle rise and fall of his back as he breathes and the fist that keeps clenching and unclenching while you lay beside him makes your smile widen. Jungkook is a breath-taking sight, looking so at peace while you observe him. His muscles are softer in their unflexed state and you can’t help it when your finger finds his right triceps and paints shapes over it. His tattoos are next on your list of targets, and soon your wandering finger is tracing the inked motifs like you’re re-carving them into his skin, following the lines and curves of the patterns as if they were new to you.

They are very much not new to you, though. You think you’ve studied them over a hundred times, committed them to memory, made them so indelible in your mind that you’re sure you could redraw them perfectly if he ever asked. You chance at moving your touch to his fingers, watching his face amusedly when you lift his hand to inspect them and he furrows his brow. The soft letters adorning the bones of his joints are met with the pad of your thumb as you stroke them adoringly, fighting the desperate urge to kiss his calloused palm when the tips of your fingers press against the rough skin. Your fingers don’t get to explore for long before he opens a single eye suspiciously, curling his fingers around your hand to stop you.

“Good morning,” his voice is deeper, sluggish, yet gentle still through the rasp. “You having fun?”

“I was,” you smirk, intertwining your fingers with his instinctually, “until you so rudely interrupted me.” His thumb rubs your knuckles sleepily, bringing them to his lips for a chaste kiss, turning onto his back, pulling you closer to his chest and tucking his other hand behind his head.

“Mm, my bad.” Comes his short reply, blinking his eyes open once again to find yours. His fingers card through your hair when you sit up on your elbows, leaning against his solid frame. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip while you allow yourself to continue observing him from above now that he’s awake.

“Do you know you twitch a lot in your sleep?” You ask, reaching over to rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. Your thumb runs over his cheek, then down to his lower lip, dragging it down playfully and watching it bounce back when you let go abruptly. He shakes his head slightly to answer your question but sits quietly, content to just let you fiddle, fondly mirroring the smile you offer him when you lean forward to press your foreheads together. “I should’ve filmed it. You almost knocked me out.”

“Instead of leaving me in peace?” He quirks a brow, tilting his head back to press a kiss to your lips quickly before lowering it again. “I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you, even if I’m unconscious. It’s written out of my biological code.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “As if I would’ve let you anyway, we both know I'd win in a fight.”

Your lips chase his naturally, and he hums sweetly when you connect them again, smirking. “Is that a challenge?” He mumbles into your mouth, you feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer still before flipping you onto your back effortlessly. He continues kissing you like that.

“Because I really beg to differ,” he ruses, trailing a hand down to the back of your thigh to hold your leg up against his hip. “Think I’d win in a heartbeat.” Another kiss. “How easy was it for me to get you like this?” His hips move against yours in a slow motion, making you very aware of a growing presence between his legs as it presses against you through all your layers of clothing.

“You play dirty, that’s why,” you joke back, pushing your palm against his forehead. He moves away from your lips to attach his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone delicately, the same way your fingers did to him minutes ago. “Caught me off guard, that’s- that’s not fair,” the small moan that leaves you after your stutter is unintentional. Curse Jungkook and how easily your body gives in to his ministrations. You loathe the way he seems to revel in it too, snickering when he moves his hips again.

You lean your head back against the pillows when he pushes your tank top up over your tits and you can feel his lips enclose around your nipple. It’s not a fair fight, Jungkook knows that. Knows that when his teeth brush against the darker flesh it’ll pebble against his tongue. Knows that when his hands slip down past your waist and hips, your legs will spread instinctually for him. Knows that when your fingers tangle in his hair, he’s got you.

“Could die between your tits,” His muffled voice knocks you out of your pleasured trance, and you hum in acknowledgement. He’s resting his face between your breasts rather lovingly now, kissing the skin between them with a hand on your waist. The hand tangled in his hair falls to his nape, scratching at the baby hairs grown out from his last haircut.

“I wouldn’t encourage you to.”

“Couldn’t be the worst fate.”

His response has you rolling your eyes, “No, a worse fate would be me beating you to a pulp because you thought you’d win in a wrestling match against me.” He chuckles, looking up at you and resting his chin on your chest with a soft pout.

“Seemed to like my approach a second ago,” he murmurs, crawling back up your body to kiss you again. There’s no underlying motive behind it, he just really likes your lips on his. You give in because, despite your argumentative nature, you like his lips too. He kisses you lazily, knee slotted between your legs, half-heartedly holding his body up to stop himself from leaning all of his weight on you. Your arms drape naturally over his shoulders and around his neck to keep him there, and you can feel his smile against your lips.

“You still hard?” His only response is the subtle grind of his hips against yours in affirmation and a slight lowering of his hand on your waist, on a slow but steady mission.

“Should I be offended that you don’t seem to be doing anything about it?”

“Gettin’ to it, jus’ let me kiss you.” He licks into your mouth sweetly, chasing the taste of you. Tries to pull you impossibly closer when you chuckle, spurring him on even more. He bites your lower lip, his wandering hand finally slipping past the waistband of your pyjama pants and brushing over your underwear. You can feel him smirk when he finds the small bow on the front, parting from your lips to slip your pants down to get a good look at them. They’re childish, pink and polka dotted and old; you’ve had them since before you and Jungkook even started dating but hardly wear them anymore.

“Cute.” Is all he says, and you roll your eyes before reaching down to pull them off. He grabs your wrists, meeting your eyes sternly. “Keep ‘em on.”

You slip your hands from his grasp, nodding hesitantly but obediently. You watch him curiously when he focuses his entire attention on your clothed pussy, entranced by it, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric to watch it cling to the shape of you, darkening with your arousal.

“Fuck, they’re so cute, baby,” he babbles, not really even speaking directly to you, just thinking out loud, “can I fuck you with them on?” He asks sweetly, kissing your chest and keeping an eye on you as he waits for your answer. You nod, combing your fingers through his hair when he peppers more kisses across your tits as a thank you. He pushes the fabric aside slightly to gain access to your pussy with no restrictions, not hesitating to sink his middle and index fingers past your opening. He knows you’re wet enough, preening when he hears your breaths turn to soft moans. He’s so familiar with your body now that curling his fingers up against your g-spot is second nature to him. You encourage him wordlessly, watching him work while his head still rests on your chest.

He knows you, so when you start to tighten around him and your moans turn into held breaths, he withdraws from you. You go to protest, furrowing your brow annoyedly, but he shushes you.

“Gonna have you come on my dick, baby.” There’s a brief pause while he separates from you to push his boxers down and take your pyjamas bottoms fully off too, grunting when he strokes himself languidly above you before rubbing his tip between your dripping folds, still fascinated by the panties he made you keep on.

“So pretty,” he coos, and for lack of better judgement, you nod. “So fuckin’ wet, love when you get like this for me. All for me.” He’s egging you on, coating himself in your arousal and pressing his forehead to yours when he sinks the mushroom tip of his cock past your opening. It’s calculated and slow, you think it’s to tease you, to prolong your frustration even longer; truthfully, it’s because Jungkook is embarrassingly close and wants to make himself last as long as he can.

“You wore these the first time I fucked you,” he admits, sinking deeper into your walls and breathing against your lips, “all I could think about for the rest of that week was getting to fuck you again, you were so perfect.” He pulls out slowly, before pushing back in, deeper this time. You let out a half-moan, half-breath, and he repeats until he’s fully seated inside of you.

“Wanted to fuck you with them on then, too, thought they were so cute.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Thought it was pervy, thinking your panties were cute and wanting to keep them on,” he chuckles, kissing you gently and quickening the pace of his hips to fuck you faster, “think you would’ve thought I was a creep, wouldn’t have let me. Was easier to make you think I just wanted to take my time undressing you.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

“Mm, you’re well trained now.”

His words get him a slap at the back of his head, and he laughs with you. The amusement doesn’t last long however, and soon he’s hiding his face in your shoulder to piston his cock in and out of you. You curse under your breath, letting him grip your thigh to guide your knee to your chest, wanting to fuck you deeper. He tuts, frustrated at the fact that he can’t get as deep as he wants, and soon your knees are over his shoulders with his hands holding your hips while he fucks you vigorously. He’s grunting animalistically, his tip prodding your cervix over and over, the corona of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot every time he pulls back.

“Touch yourself.” He instructs from your shoulder. It’s gentle, you know he doesn’t mean to come across as commanding but you like it anyway. You’re quick to obey, of course, and soon you’re trailing a hand down to your own pussy to start rubbing at your clit. He wants you to finish, that much is apparent, and you assume it’s because he’s trying to hold off his own orgasm for you. It’s wordless between you when you feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to tighten, and your free hand wanders across his broad back, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades in such a contrasting way to how you were so gentle only ten minutes ago. He grunts, knows you’re close because you’re clenching around him and he can feel you holding your breath. He kisses your collarbone as silent encouragement, and a few more strokes has you coming undone around him, finally releasing your breath and pulsing around him in a way that has you nearly pushing him out.

“Gonna come, where you want it?” He asks quietly, knows your answer but wants to hear it. You always want it inside, and Jungkook is always more than happy to oblige.

“On my panties.” Comes your surprising reply, and Jungkook’s pupils dilate to proportions you didn’t think were physically possible. He stops moving, dropping his grip on your hips to brace his hands against the sides of your head and hold himself up above you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he jokes, dipping down to kiss you fervently, picking up the pace of his hips again, “you’re so fucking perfect, you want me to come all over your panties, baby? Want me to make a mess?”

You’re not stupid, you know as much as the next girl that if there’s anything a man likes more than coming inside, it’s staking his claim. Of course, semen washes off - but the thought of Jungkook painting your panties white even makes your stomach flip. You nod, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion before he pulls out of you and sits up in order to stroke himself, a singular goal in mind. Your panties are still tucked to the side so he can see all of you as his fist pumps his cock quickly. You observe him, his cock is still wet from your arousal and his tip is so swollen and red that you’re unsure how he lasted even this long. As expected, he doesn’t last very long, and soon thick white ropes of come are shooting from his tip and coating your pussy and the fabric of your panties. He’s shuddering, curling over on himself before collapsing beside you on the bed.

“C’mere,” he pants out, slipping his arms around your middle and pulling you toward him, “this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Really wasn’t, I was doting on you.”

“Feeling me up is ‘doting’ now?”

You push him away playfully, but he keeps his grip on you, laughing when you turn around to get away from him. He pulls you back towards him and spoons you.

“I was being cute and you made it pervy, like always.” He can hear the pout in your voice, so he mumbles something in agreement. Knows there’s no winning here when he just came all over your panties like some kind of neanderthal. He rubs his hand over your belly, kissing your shoulder blade affectionately to keep you close. Your own hands cover his, intertwining your fingers once again and snuggling sweetly into him.

a/n 🗒️ as always tysm for reading !!! if u have anything to say pls do i love to hear from ppl and reflecting on criticism is my driving force 💆‍♀️ reqs/asks are open !!!!

#koob navi #jungkook #jungkook hard hours #jungkook hard thoughts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook soft thoughts #jungkook soft hours #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #yn x jungkook #reader x jungkook #bts hard hours #bts hard thoughts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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your-highnessmarvel · 2 months

Text

Insatiable

AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.

Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.

MINORS DNI Below the cut

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.

This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.

Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).

This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.

So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.

Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.

You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.

Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.

So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.

And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.

"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."

Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"

"You wear panties?"

He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.

"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"

You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).

The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.

The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.

"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"

You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.

You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.

He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.

Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"

You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"

"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."

You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.

"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.

Why was this happening?

You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.

"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.

He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.

Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.

A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.

"Miss, look at you," he cooed.

Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.

"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.

"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.

She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."

Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."

The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.

So you back-peddled.

You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.

She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.

Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.

You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.

"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.

When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.

"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.

"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."

He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.

A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.

"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.

Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.

You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.

It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.

When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.

But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"

And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.

"Ew, no."

He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"

You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.

Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"

You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."

He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.

Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.

So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.

But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.

"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.

You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.

"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.

But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."

Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"

Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."

"What?" You frowned.

Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."

"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."

Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."

"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.

Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."

"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.

He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.

"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.

"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.

"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.

Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.

"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.

"In here!?" you whispered tightly.

Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.

"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.

Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.

Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.

Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.

"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.

"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.

The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.

"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.

The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.

"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.

Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."

You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.

A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."

The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.

"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.

You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."

And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.

The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.

The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.

You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.

Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.

"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."

He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.

"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.

Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.

You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.

Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."

You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.

"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.

You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."

He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.

A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.

"N-no," you mumbled. "No."

He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.

"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.

A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.

"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."

"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.

"No."

"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.

A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.

Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.

His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.

When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

"Butcher, please," you begged.

"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."

You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.

He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.

"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.

"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.

"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.

He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."

You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.

Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.

"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"

You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.

The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.

"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."

You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.

He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.

He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.

He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.

"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.

"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.

"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."

He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.

He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.

"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.

"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.

Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.

"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.

"Billy, please," you whined softly.

"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.

He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.

When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.

Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.

Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.

"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."

His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.

"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.

"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"

#billy butcher #william butcher #butcher the boys #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher the boys #butcher x reader

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delulujuls · 3 months

Text

so cold | house of the dragon

hi, if you haven't watched s02e02 of hotd yet and you don't want spoilers, then please don't scroll below. but feel free to hit a heart button if you wanna came back later and check on this one.

all rights to ideas used here belongs to george r.r. martin, hbo and warner bros, i just added a bit to them from myself. title is inspired by so cold by ben coaks. also, in this one reader is viserys' fifth child, older than helaena but younger than aemond, aegon and rhaenyra.

summary: targaryens started falling into madness forgetting that they are family and a strong family needs love, not war

warnings: death of a child, murder, explaining of a killing

pairing: sister!reader x rhaenyra targaryen x aegon targaryen (ft. daemon the troublemaker)

Young mother cradled child in her arms, rocking her gently to sleep. She lovingly pressed her daughter to her chest, softly humming under her breath. The girl slept, nestled against her mother, who couldn't bear to let her go. She feared that if her daughter left her embrace, something terrible might happen to her.

Someone will hurt her like they hurt her beloved boy.

"Your grace, you should rest," one of the maids whispered, preparing the queen's chamber for the night.

At one point, the young woman didn't hear her words, staring into the candle flame and lightly rocking her daughter in her arms. After a moment, she looked up at the servant and, realizing she had momentarily lost touch with reality, only sniffed and nodded. She carefully laid the girl in bed, covering her with a blanket. She gently sat next to her, hastily wiping herself her tear-streaked cheeks. Young queen placed a hand on her daughter's head, tenderly stroking it.

"Your grace," the maid began again, trying to encourage her to rest, but the she didn't let her finish "Stay with her until I return, alright?"

She asked, but it sounded more like a command. Y/N lifted her gaze to the maid, who nodded quickly. The young queen glanced at her daughter one last time, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She adjusted the blanket on her one last time and then stood up. The maid immediately took her place. She didn't look at the sleeping girl, but at her mother, who quickly put on a cloak and hood over her nightgown.

"Where are you going, my lady?" the maid asked softly, nervously clutching her apron. She knew there were two guards outside the queen's chamber, and no other entrance to it. Yet, she was terrified of the responsibility the woman was placing on her, leaving her child in her care, after everything that happened not so long ago.

"I need some fresh air," she replied, wiping her wet cheeks again. Despite her whisper, her voice was firm. "I'll be back shortly. You're safe here."

The maid nodded and watched the young queen leave. She disappeared behind heavy doors guarded by two knights of the Royal Guard, who straightened up as soon as they saw her.

"Your grace," one greeted her, about to ask where she was going, noticing her attire suggested an outing. However, she cut him off. "I need some fresh air before sleep. Until I return, there's a maid inside with Jaehaera. Let no one inside, and if anyone asks, I'm asleep."

She announced, scanning their faces to ensure they understood her words. The knights nodded and bowed, because who were they to deny the queen leaving the castle, especially in her current state? Each of the three people Y/N informed of her departure assumed the young queen would take a short stroll around the castle or stop in one of the gardens to clean her mind before going to bed. However, Y/N was heading to the Dragonpit, not even thinking about going to sleep any time soon.

When she arrived, the dragons immediately sensed her presence. Feeling her sadness and grief, they murmured softly, with their gaze following her steps toward Vermithor. The old dragon knew where he would have to fly before she even appeared inside. He would fly to Dragonstone.

The cold, night wind swept tears from the young queen's cheeks as she sat on the back of the Bronze Fury. She realized she didn't actually know what to say when she will arrive to the castle. Would the guards even let her in? Would Rhaenyra want to talk? Maybe Daemon was nearby on Caraxes, wanting to attack her?

However, no one attacked her from the air, and when she landed, no one awaited her with an army. As she reached the castle gates, she removed her hood, letting her white hair fell over her shoulders.

"Your grace," the guards bowed, but they would have lied if they claimed her appearance didn't shock them.

"I want to talk to Rhaenyra," she announced, looking at their faces. Seeing her swollen eyes and wet cheeks, they didn't even dare ask if she was armed. Before them was a grieving mother who didn't want war. She wanted explanations.

When Rhaenyra was awakened and informed of her sister's visit, she quickly went to the main hall, barefoot and in her nightgown. She felt like she was still dreaming and her mind was playing tricks on her, but when she saw her sister accompanied by two guards, she realized the reality. Sisters looked at each other in silence, unsure of what to say and how to begin. Rhaenyra felt a lump in her throat when she saw in what state Y/N was. She felt like she was looking at her reflection from a few weeks ago when she herself mourned her son's death. Y/N's eyes welled with tears again. She hadn't seen Rhaenyra for so long.

"Nyra-," she began, but her voice broke. The older woman started towards her, but a guard stopped her with a hand gesture.

"Your grace, we don't know-," "She's my sister," she said firmly, glaring at him. She passed the young knight and approached the girl, whom she immediately hugged. As soon as she closed her in her arms, Y/N began to sob. Rhaenyra held her tightly, feeling her own tears burning beneath her eyelids.

"They killed my boy," she cried, clenching her fists on Rhaenyra's robe. "They killed my angel, who did nothing wrong. Why? Why did they kill one of the two most innocent people in this cursed castle?"

Rhaenyra had no answer to any of her questions. Even if she wanted to say something, she couldn't, being completely out of words. She hugged her sister, who trembled in her arms. Despite her heavy cloak and cape, she felt her body shaking.

Still embracing young queen, Rhaenyra led her to one of the couches where they sat together. She held her hands tightly as she tried to sort out what she wanted to say. Y/N had no idea what to say either, she just wanted to rid herself of all the pain no one in the castle cared about. No one wanted to listen to her, no one even wanted to hug and comfort her; everyone needed to be heard and comforted as well. Of all the people, Y/N could only come to Rhaenyra, who was now an enemy to all of King's Landing. However, for the young queen, she was not an enemy but a sister and a mother who had recently mourned the death of her child, too. No one could understand her better.

"They cut off his little head as if he were a worthless pig," she said bitterly, staring into the flame dancing in the fireplace. Rhaenyra saw that Y/N still had her dead son's body before her eyes, and she knew that the sight would stay with her for a long time. She would give anything to relieve her pain.

"I've never seen such a small coffin. And it was still too big for him," Rhaenyra quickly wiped her wet cheeks herself, but it didn't gave much help.

"Instead of treating his funeral properly and with respect," Y/N began, but her voice broke. "Otto ordered a procession. They dragged him through the entire city along paths he was not even able to walk in his lifetime."

Despite the sadness, grief, and sympathy, Rhaenyra began to feel anger. The Hightowers turned the death of a child into a spectacle to portray them as victims and her as a murderer. It wasn't even about deciding to condemn her even more; it was the fact that they used the tragic death of an innocent child for it.

"He said Alicent and I should take part in the procession so that people would sympathize more. She…she-," young queen began to sob, to which Rhaenyra hugged her tightly. "When I said I didn't want to, she declared it was my duty. It wasn't my duty, was it?"

"Of course not," she answered, stroking her head. Rhaenyra's tears soaked her sister's hair as she hugged her. "You didn't deserve this, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

The young queen cried in her arms, and Rhaenyra continued to hug her tightly. All she could do at the moment was provide her with a little comfort, which she was so eager for. Y/N herself had not been a child so long ago and now she had to deal with such suffering.

After a while, when the wave of despair passed, Y/N moved away from her sister and looked at her face, desperately seeking explanations.

"What actually happened, Nyra?"

"There was a mistake," a voice came from the corner before Rhaenyra was even able to open her mouth to speak. When Daemon came out of the shadows, Rhaenyra hugged her sister tighter and gave him a fierce look.

"You have no right to be here," she said sharply, but her voice trembled on the last spoken word.

"I have the right to explanations," he replied calmly, looking at her and then at his niece. The young queen looked at him in silence, finally wanting to know the truth. The pain could be devastating, but she knew that moving forward would require it.

"Why-," she began, biting her lip painfully. She didn't want to cry in front of him. "Why did they kill my little boy?"

"Aemond was supposed to die," he said, approaching. "Son for son."

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, snuggling into her sister. She couldn't look at her uncle.

"They didn't find Aemond, but they found you and your children-" "That's enough," Rhaenyra interrupted sharply. "Leave, now."

However, Daemon approached even closer, still looking at his niece. He knelt in front of her.

"There are no words to describe how sorry I am," he said quietly but firmly. "I'm so sorry Y/N, that you got caught up in this conflict. You and your children shouldn't be involved at all."

The young queen sniffled and looked at him tearfully. She felt a cold hand tighten around her throat, struggling to breathe because of what she heard.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he repeated, this time looking her in the eye.

"How many more family members will I have to mourn for this madness to end?"

Rhaenyra kissed her temple and hugged her tightly. The three of them remained silent for an indefinite time. At one point, Y/N stood up, breaking free from her sister's embrace. She wiped her wet cheeks and took a deep breath.

"Aegon is angry and wants war," she began, looking around them. "But more than anger, it's grief that consumes him. He lost a child."

"We don't want war either," Rhaenyra assured, holding her hand. "The last thing I want is more death."

"I'll try to talk to him and appeal to his reason," she said, squeezing her sister's hand one last time. "I don't want any more death, too. This has to end."

She was about to leave, but Rhaenyra stood up and hugged her tightly one last time.

"I love you, bird," she whispered, holding her tightly. "I love you and I'm so sorry for all of this."

"I'm not your enemy," Y/N said softly, closing her eyes. "I'm your sister. And I too love you."

After a difficult farewell, the young queen returned to the castle. As she walked through the empty, silent corridors, she tried to be quieter than a mouse. However, as she passed Aegon's chambers, she heard sobbing. Her brother must have sent the guards away because there was no one at the entrance. The girl fought herself for a moment, but after a while she quietly entered the room. Aegon sat by the fireplace, leaning his elbows on his knees. He nervously rubbed his hands and his hair covered his face, but she could hear him crying.

Y/N still had her hand on the doorknob, unsure what to do or say. Since the news of their son's death, they has not spoken a word with each other.

"Aegon..." she began uncertainly, but he didn't react to her words at all. The girl left the door ajar and walked slowly to him, afraid of what she might expect from him.

"I just wanted to-" she didn't have the opportunity to finish, because he caught her around the waist and pulled her towards him, hugging her tightly. The young queen put one hand on his shoulder, the other stroking his head. She herself felt tears under her eyelids again.

"Why does this keep happening to us?" he asked, raising his head and looking at her from below. Aegon also desperately needed explanations that could help him digest the pain, but no one wanted to provide them to him. The girl touched his tear-stained cheek and wiped it off, shaking her head helplessly. She also didn't have an answer to the question that would haunt them for the next few weeks, months, maybe even years.

"I just wanted to be happy and have a loving family," he said, his voice breaking. "What did i do wrong?"

Y/N burst into tears again and sat on his lap, hugging him tightly. Aegon hugged her even tighter, ignoring her cloak and the smell of the night she brought with her into his chambers. At that moment, all he desperately needed was a little comfort and a silent assurance that everything would somehow work out.

She needed it, too.

Targaryens needed each other.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd one shot #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd s2 #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemyra

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

Saving Jacaerys during the battle of the gullet? I am not ready for this moment

Who else is not ready for this? I have not read the book, but I know it will be a sad day

Warnings: mention of injuries, death of a dragon,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Arrows were being shot by the fleet of the Triarchy and Jacaerys was making a big mistake making Vermax fly too low, but you were too high in the sky for him to hear your warning.

Time seemed to slow as the inevitable happened: a crossbow bolt struck Vermax in the eye. The dragon let out a pained roar, spiraling uncontrollably before crashing into the sea below. The sight tore at your heart, but there was no time for hesitation.

Wasting no time, you commanded your dragon to go down, diving swiftly and weaving through the storm of arrows with remarkable agility. The salty sea air stung your face as you descended, your mind racing with fear and determination.

The chances that Jacaerys survived such a fall was slim, but you had to know for sure. You had to see for yourself.

As you neared the water, you could see the wreckage of Vermax in the churning waves. His green scales and the red of his wings. A tear fell from your eye.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

Tearing your gaze from Vermax's lifeless form, you scanned the chaotic waters and the fires spreading across the wreckage. Suddenly, a splash of movement caught your eye. Jacaerys had managed to leap free and was now clinging desperately to a piece of wood from a shattered ship. Relief surged through you, mentally thanking the gods.

You turned in his direction, but before you could get to him, an arrow sliced through the air, striking Jacaerys in the shoulder. He cried out in pain, his grip on the makeshift raft faltering as the arrow pierced his flesh.

‘’Dracarys!’’ you commanded, fury fueling your voice.

Your dragon responded instantly, unleashing a torrent of fire upon the ship from which the arrow had been fired. The flames consumed the attackers, their screams lost in the roar of the blaze. Satisfaction filled your blood. Hurt the ones you love, and taste the revenge of the dragon.

You called Jacaerys’ name and he looked up, his face pale with pain and exhaustion. He had a cut on his face and his shoulder was bleeding from the arrow, which was still in his shoulder.

For a moment, relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as a wave crashed over him. He tried to hoist himself back onto the piece of debris but winced as a jolt of pain flared up his arm. His fingers slipped, wet from saltwater, and he fell back into the cold water, gasping for breath as he resurfaced.

Carefully, your dragon hovered just above the surface, and you reached out a hand, tightly holding the handle of your saddle with your other so you wouldn’t fall in the waters too. ‘’Take my hand!’’

With a grimace, Jacaerys stretched out his good arm, and you pulled him up with all your strength, straining against the weight of his soaked clothes and his own weakened state. He settled in the saddle behind you, safely. You felt him shivering behind you, the cold of the water and the blood loss clearly taking its toll.

You needed to get back to Dragonstone quickly before cold would take him. You ascended into the air, wings beating heavily against the wind as you fled the scene, escaping the deadly range of the Triarchy's arrows.

‘’You...you came for me,’’ Jacaerys said, his voice weak from the ordeal.

‘’Of course I came for you,’’ you retorted, your voice a mix of concern and annoyance. What kind of wife would you be if you didn’t come to your husband’s rescue?

Once you landed on Dragonstone, you called out for a maester. Jacaerys’ clothes had dried a little on the journey back, but he was still cold…and bleeding. You asked the servants to fetch him dry clothes and followed Maester Gerardys, who took care of Jacaerys’ wounds. He carefully removed the arrow out and stitched the wound, stopping the bleeding. By the look of pain on Jacaerys’ face, it must not have been pleasant.

The fire in the hearth crackled, slowly warming up the prince. His wet clothes were discarded on the floor and replaced by dry ones before settling into the chair by the fire, his silence deep and heavy, thinking back to everything that just happened.

You gently draped a blanket over his shoulders, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth. ‘’What were you thinking, flying so low?’’

Jacaerys looked down. His lack of battle training and knowledge was what got him into this situation. What caused Vermax's death. A tear rolled down his cheek but he wiped it away.

You sat on the second chair, still in your riding gear. ‘’You need to be more careful, Jace,’’ you scolded gently, concern lacing your words. ‘’You're not some invincible warrior. You're the Prince of Dragonstone, your mother’s heir. Your life is too important to risk like that.’’

Your words came from a good place, but Jacaerys wanted to scream. He was tired of hearing people saying his life was important. He wanted to be on the battlefield and come up with strategies, he wanted to do something to be part of this war.

But hearing the discourse from you felt different. To you, his life was more important than any of his titles.

Jacaerys sighed. ‘’I'm sorry,’’ he said, his voice tinged with pain and regret. ‘’I was just...I guess I was trying to prove myself. I don't want to be known as the prince who sat on Dragonstone and let others die fighting for his mother's throne.’’

You understood where he was coming from, but proving himself to others was not worth jeopardizing his life.

‘’You don't need to prove yourself by being reckless and throw your life away. The Queen would not bear losing another child. I would not bear losing you.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #hotd

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velvrei · 2 months

Note

logan dating tony starks daughter !!! like he wants to dislike you soooooo bad because he automatically assumes you’re some spoilt brat who’s always gotten anything and everything that she’s wanted without having to lift a finger but after being forced to spend time with you (probably because of missions) he can’t help but fall head over heels for you!!! that stark charm is definitely something to be in awe of (ur dad and him still despise each other tho)

the other stark

pairing: older!logan howlett x stark!reader

summary: logan finally meets you, tony starks daughter at an avengers gala. as much as he thinks you are a stuck up brat who has everything handed to her, he couldn’t wait to have his hands on you.

warnings: smut, age gap (legal), somewhat forbidden romance, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position, face riding, oral (f receiving), kinda slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, really filthy smut, intentional overuse of the word fuck at the end, tony is pissed when he finds out

word count: 5k

a/n: don’t look to closely on the gif cause you’ll find the part where i didn’t try

nsfw below the cut!

logan was not looking forward to attending the avenger’s ‘met gala'. mostly because he knew he would be meeting the folks he was supposed to despise the most.

tony stark invited the x-men as a way of trying to mend the rip between the two groups; it was always avengers vs. the x-men, never avengers and the x-men. tony wanted to change that. logan didn’t.

as everyone arrive, there was a little red carpet where several photographers stood, flashing pictures in the hopes of capturing good shots of each of the visitors.

the x-men limo slowly approached the curb, with spectators surrounding the vehicle as everyone exited.

logan huffed and climbed out the door, disregarding the fangirls that surrounded him, eager to get the night over with.

he walked up to the carpet alongside his team, each member getting a solo shot. when it was logan’s turn, he rested his face and let the camera take pictures of him, stood up straight.

he was wearing dress pants, a button up, with the sleeves rolled up just above his forearms, and a black vest over his button up. the shirt easily displayed his muscles, which he claimed was unintentional, but it was vastly intentional.

the paparazzi turned their cameras as another limo pulled up, and out came peter parker, and logan rolled his eyes knowing it was all the younger avengers.

logan couldn’t help but watch as peter stepped to the side, holding his hand out as he watched a woman get out. he gulped, seeing who the woman was.

it was you, tony starks daughter, or so he heard from his team. he had never actually met you. as much as he wanted to persuade himself he wasn't drawn to you, it would be a complete lie.

you were wearing a long, form fitting dress. it was a dark red, almost maroon. you wore gold heels and chunky gold bangles and necklace along with it, making sure it wasn’t just one color, which was something logan noticed.

peter stood at your side and it made logan a bit curious as to what your relationship with him was, but once he saw you two begin bickering he quickly realized it was more of a sibling relationship.

logan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief as the two of you walked over, followed by some others that exited the limo. you walked in front of peter, walking up to the red carpet.

logan was still stood in the middle, he quickly turned his attention in front of him, looking at the camera for the picture.

“logan! pose with tony’s daughter!” one of the men behind the camera shouted. peter shot you a protective look, however you just shook your head, silently telling him to calm down.

logan almost huffed as you walked up next to him, even though you had never met the man, it would be more embarrassing to turn down the offer in front of millions of people.

“logan.” you say.

logan questions the fact you know him, wondering if he should’ve done his research beforehand.

“y/n.” he responds. he knows your name, and that’s it. he knows nothing else about you, and he is almost sure he doesn’t want to know.

the more he stood next to you, the longer he saw how many times you posed for the camera, wanting to roll his eyes but holding back knowing that would definitely get caught on camera.

you gave a small smile to the camera, turning to logan as you stood next to him. the two of you stood together, nothing more.

logan saw it as awkward, while you thought nothing of it, walking off the red carpet as he followed, quickly finding his team in attempt to avoid speaking to you any longer.

…

it had been an hour and logan hadn’t seen you again sense the introduction. he knew he was bound to be brought back to you again, but he didn’t want to be the cause of it.

logan finally spotted wade, approaching him, trying to pretend that wade wasn’t his comfort person.

“well hello my second favorite furball! i’ve missed you.” wade’s words make logan roll his eyes.

“missed ya too, bub. i barely know anyone here.” logan admits, quietly. he looks around the room to see if he saw anyone else he was comfortable with, but he just saw you in the corner, casually chatting with thor.

wade gasps, beginning to speak loudly on purpose. “the wolverine doesn’t know people-” wade starts but logan covers his mouth, staring daggers into his eyes.

“shut the fuck up. now is not the time.” logan says rather quiet, seeming a bit panicky as wade furrows his eyebrows.

wade goes to say a muffled remark but catches where logan’s distress is coming from. logan slowly lets go of wade’s mouth, watching as wade’s face brightens as if a light bulb had just been placed over his head.

“is billionaire bitch still your opp?”

“stop fucking talking like that.”

wade couldn’t help but giggle. “is it because of tony? he’s trying to make amends, stud muffin. i don’t know why you’re stressed.”

logan goes to respond, but takes a second, actually processing. “i- i don’t know why i’m stressed either if im being honest.”

wade smiled, appreciating the fact that his friend was actually processing his feelings instead of pushing away. that was something wade had taught logan, which was something wade had learned from his therapist.

“logan, you can’t hate the avengers forever. we’re gonna be forced to work with them. and as much as you may hate the starks, i’ve already looked at the first mission list and you’re partnered up with stark’s daughter.”

logan practically chokes on his champagne as wade speaks his last sentence. logan didn’t know whether to be curious or incredibly annoyed.

“oh, fuck me…” logan complains, rubbing his forehead.

wade holds back a giggle, “oh, i’m sure she will.”

with a smack to wade’s arm, the two boys noticed you and your father making your way over to them. logan almost cussed out tony in his head.

tony walked up, you not far behind your father, you have wade a side hug and gave logan a hand shake, that was strangely quick. tony smiled his millionaire smile. “thank you guys for joining us tonight. so glad you could make it, and i’m so happy we can finally kill this little rivalry.”

you knew your dad was being fake, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, especially when it was against wolverine and deadpool.

logan spoke the words, “i’m happy to be here,” but his face showed different, which earned him a smack in the arm from wade.

“i bet. we have a lovely spread of finger foods and you’re more than welcome to help yourself to some more champagne. would’ve told you how expensive it was before you decided to chug it all, however that’s okay.”

logan literally bit his tongue to stop himself from retaliating. if it was really okay as tony offered, tony wouldn’t care of the price.

after a few more dreadful minutes of banter between the two, and many side eye looks between you and wade, tony walked away, leaving just you, wade and logan.

which wade quickly saw himself out. “i’m gonna go find the woman with the magic hands, been dying to meet her. you two fartknockers try not to kill each other, okay?” his voice seemed so sarcastic but wasn’t, which made you almost smile.

wade walked away and left the two of you there. logan sighed as you started talking.

“you know, you don’t have to avoid me, logan.”

logan’s eyes shot up into yours. he wasn’t avoiding you. was he? “excuse me?”

you almost huffed, watching as his body tensed up. you stood up straight, even though you were still a bit shorter than him. “logan. i am not my father.”

your words cause logan to scoff. logan knew you weren’t your father. he just saw you as an exact replica of your bloodline. he didn’t want to say that right to your face, but you noticed he was processing a response, so you ignored the awkward silence and let him get his thoughts in order.

“obviously, you’re not him. your father is a 55 year old billionaire with a mustache. however you two are more similar than you think.”

his words make you think for a minute, deciding to keep the conversation a bit flirty, as much as you convinced yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

“listen, my father and i are just like you and wade. one is the caustic, sassy fighter who never knows when to quit. and the other is the hot one who simply follows the other's example.” your remarks force his brow to furrow.

out of the long phrase you just said, logan only processed one thing. “did you just call me hot?”

you smiled, batting your eyelashes before answered. “no, i called myself hot. you just happened to assume we’re similar, proving my point.”

logan hated how self centered you were. key word, hated. logan slowly realized how attractive your confidence was, but covered it up through his grunts and complaints of how stuck up you were. you weren’t wrong at all. you were hot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

logan rolled his eyes, “of course. you evil woman.” his words were half sarcastic, but you smiled, quickly remarking to his comment.

“you can call me evil, lo, but you can’t call me ugly.” and with that you walked away, leaving him there in his thoughts for the second time that night.

logan huffed. he would be lying if he said your words didn’t get to him. but he couldn’t. he was over half your age, and your father was the one person on this earth he couldn’t stand.

…

the first mission was the hardest. you and logan didn’t agree on much, the two of you couldn’t even decide on what food the team should get after the mission.

with each mission, logan felt his hatred for you slowly slipping away. as much as he tried to keep it because of who your father was, he couldn’t help but secretly adore you. your confidence, your skills, your remarks.

when you shared missions, logan was always paired with you. wade was sometimes there, but sometimes it was just the two of you. logan was the muscles, while you were the brains.

as much as he hated that, each mission he found it easier and easier to protect you. at first, he almost didn’t want to, so that way you could possibly learn your lesson.

then, by the third mission, he was protecting you like you were his own. you noticed those changes, knowing you were slowly getting to the man.

it was the aftermath of the fifth mission. all the avengers and x-men rented out a hotel through tony’s card. it was a smaller one, but was able to fit everybody. each partner was neighbored, but thankfully for logan not in the same room if opposite genders.

so logan was lucky enough to have a room to himself, however, that meant sleeping on his bed, knowing yours was on the opposite side of the wall. the walls weren’t exactly thick, which made it harder for him to keep himself together.

he felt filthy as he listened to your phone conversation with one of your friends. he refrained his interest and was just laying in his bed, reading a book when something you said striked his interest.

he assumed your friend asked about the person you were partnered up with, because as soon as your name left his mouth he couldn’t help but listen.

“yeah, i’m with logan.” he perked up, placing a book mark into his book before placing it onto his nightstand. he felt creepy listening in on your conversation, but convinced himself he had every right because he heard his name.

he heard nothing but mumbles from your friend, before he heard you speaking again.

“yeah, i can’t even lie, everytime i walk past him i just… there’s just something about him being my dad’s least favorite person that makes me want him even more.”

logan was at a loss for words. you wanted him? no. you couldn’t. he was practically forbidden. he felt like a pervert at the fact that his pants were tightening.

the friend laughed, and logan was not tuned out from your conversation, wondering what should be done from there. he quickly reminded himself that was your private conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear, so what he knows must remain a secret.

…

logan usually wasn’t one to get much sleep, especially during the nights during missions, and especially only hours ago he found out you had the hots for him.

it was around two in the morning. he tossed and turned, trying to figure out what he should do.

he paused, throat feeling dry. he stood, throwing on his pajama pants, not bothering to wear a shirt before he left his hotel room, walking down the single set of stairs to the mini den, where there was a small kitchen and some lounge chairs.

he unintentionally scanned the room, catching you sitting in one of the lounge chairs, book in hand and your reading glasses sat low on your nose.

he swallowed his spit, walking over the the cupboard and grabbing a small glass, filling it with clean tap water from the sink.

the noise of the water running through the sink brought you from your reading trance, you took your glasses from your face and set your book down, finally noticing logan’s presence.

you slowly stood up, and logan tried to ignore your actions. looking out the window above the sink and quickly downing his water.

before he could leave the room you stopped him. “got somewhere to be?” your words made him sigh, head falling down as he turned his body to you.

he shook his head, realizing his attempt to avoid you was unsuccessful. you gave him your signature smile, not breaking eye contact even though he was tempted to.

“just tired.” his eyes tell different. he wasn’t tired at all. just couldn’t sleep. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to now that he was down here with you.

“why are you lying to me? why are you avoiding me?” your words slow down as you mention him avoiding you, making sure your sentence really sinks in to his mind.

you couldn’t help but eye his shirtless figure, noticing how defined his abs we’re and feeling yourself become wet because of how manly he looked.

he notices your eyes and gulps, you watch his adams apple bob, and he suddenly realizes he needs to not look like a fucking pussy, even though he feels like one.

“why do you care?” his voice is back to his usual raspy. there’s your boy. you smile, finally recognizing he was back to the grumpy man you know and forbiddingly wanted.

“am i supposed to not care because my dad doesn’t? because i’ve told you many times. i am not my father.”

logan couldn’t help but search your body up and down. his act of checking you out, which you caught, makes your smile grow. “clearly not.” logan murmurs.

you eyebrows raise, your eyes never leaving his. “is that flirty comment leaving your mouth?” your words make him almost stutter but he takes a deep breath to stop himself from being vulnerable around you.

“no. it’s only flirting if you take it that way. i’m not flirting with you. i can’t.” logan’s last words make you curious. was he not flirting because he didn’t want to, or cause he couldn’t?

“you can’t? cause of my dad? fuck who my dad is. as much as i love him he’s gotten in the way of almost everything i’ve wanted that didn’t follow his path for me. i’m not letting him ruin this for me.” his breath quickened as you continued, “sometimes a girl needs to be taken care of. no matter who it is..”

your words make his eyes widen. he didn’t even know what to say.

we’re you flirting with him? he knew based on your phone call earlier that you wanted him because of the thrill it brought. but was that the only reason? did you actually want him?

“is that right?” his voice is low, trying to hide his desperation, and his words make you realize you’ve got him. he’s slowly letting down his forbidden barrier.

which is exactly what you wanted.

you step closer to him. “exactly right.” you were so close to him, only a few inches from his face, his husky breath fanning your face, you were able to smell his minty toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth just a few hours before.

you smiled, trailing a hand down his arm, watching satisfied as he shivered beneath your touch. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

logan backed up, finally letting his head reprocess what was happening. “no. y/n. we can’t. we can’t.” he repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s convincing you, or himself.

"why not? cause of my dad? don't you want to anger him? make him mad? isn't that what you've always wanted? well his daughter is standing right here, begging you to take care of her, to show her how she deserves to be taken care of."

logan almost moans at the thought. you step closer to him again, hand running down his arm.

you watched as he shivered, but instead of stepping back this time, he leans into your touch.

he sighs, your touch calming his nerves. he looks down at you, jaw clenching. "i'm.. too old for you. you deserve someone younger."

his words almost make you scoff in disagreement, and you couldn't help but disagree more with him.

"younger? all the guys my age are either assholes or taken, logan. i need someone older, to take care of me, to show me what it's like to be treated right, and fucked good. wouldn't you rather that that be you, rather than another man your age?"

it's like you knew just what to say, because he was standing there, as his dick hardened in his pants at your words.

he wanted you so bad. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to protest, for your sake, all he knew is that he wanted you so fucking bad.

your name tumbles from his lips, trying to think of what to say next.

“don’t tell me we can’t. because we can. we can do whatever we fucking want. we’re adults, aren’t we, lo?”

he sighs as the nickname slips from your mouth, he bites his lip, looking down at you, searching your eyes for any hesitation. he found none. just pure lust. he almost moaned as you gazed into his eyes, pupils dilating slightly.

“we are.” is all he says, eyes looking from your pupils, down to your lips. he licked his, eyes sharpening as he perked up.

you smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes, practically daring him to make the first move.

you decided to tease him a bit more, knowing exactly how to irritate him.

“i could always, go find another older guy to take care of me.” your words caused him to growl, slightly, jaw clenching at the thought of you with another boy, let alone an older guy.

“hell no. you’re mine.” his words make you smile, your expression still facing away from him as you turned your head, raising your eyebrows at him.

“i’m yours?” your words slightly questioning him, “prove it.”

at that moment, logan felt all his control slipping away.

the moment he’d been waiting for had finally come, he could finally devour you the way he had dreamed about many nights before.

you started to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in his direction and turning you around.

his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other on your waist, bringing you closer and finally connecting your lips with his.

he moaned into the kiss, knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. his lips were hungry, he was hungry.

logan let his hands roam along your body, both going down to grab your ass, squeezing and chuckling as you squealed into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, touching yours.

he couldn’t help but moan as your lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it.

your eyes looked at his. causing his body to tremble at how dirty you were being.

he quickly squeezed your ass again, as the two of you continued to kiss, spreading your legs and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who knew you were so fucking naughty.” he whispered against your lips, pecking them after speaking then setting you onto the counter.

he stood in between your legs, hands running up your thighs, noticing how short your sleep shorts really were.

he kissed you again, kissing your jaw and continuing down your neck.

he made out with the sensitive skin just below your chin, panting as your head fell back gently against the cupboard.

his hands slowly went under your t-shirt, nails running against your torso, and up to your chest, squeezing, hearing as you moaned, quickly bringing one out and covering your mouth.

“gotta stay quiet, sugar. wouldn’t want your father hearing and getting curious.”

you moan into his hand, and he just chuckles at you, enjoying how needy you’re being just for him. he’s grunting against your skin, his hand moving faster than his brain.

he tries to ignore the fact his dick is practically leaking in his pants as his hand runs up your thigh, closer and closer to your core.

his face is still in your neck, as his hand pushes your shorts and underwear aside, his other still around your mouth to silence your sounds.

he quickly slips a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he feels you moan into his hand. he pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole.

he stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. his two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

you whined into his hand, almost biting down onto his fingers.

he noticed that and removed his hand for a brief second before slipping his fingers into your mouth.

his lips moved from your neck to your ear. “god, look at you, letting my fingers stuff two of your holes,” he moaned around your fingers, smiling to himself as he shoves them down your throat.

his fingers leave your mouth after making you gag, his other set of two fingers still inside your pussy.

his other hand went to your neck, holding it as he licked a long stripe up and kissed it, nibbling on your soft skin.

“fuck, if your dad walked down right now and saw how much of a slut you’re being for me. would piss him off so bad, wouldn’t it, sugar.”

his words made you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers and whines as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you.

you finally let out a whimper, causing his smile to grow, his fingers leaving your pussy, leaving you slightly stretched out.

he placed a sweet, quick kiss to your lips before slipping you off the counter and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

he walked you upstairs to his hotel room, kicking the door open then kicking it closed behind him.

“sweet girl couldn’t handle being quiet, felt too fucking good didn’t it?”

he set you down, forcing you to stand, sitting himself on the bed. he unintentionally manspread, holding himself up on his elbows. “come on sugar. strip for me.”

his words only encouraged you, smiling as you took off your shirt in a teasingly slow manner, leaving you in your lace bra and skimpy pajama shorts.

he bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. normally you’d feel intimidated, but you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. there was no time to be intimidated by him.

you smiled as you slowly slid your shorts down your legs, revealing the matching panties, causing his head to fall back.

“a matching set? you planned this, didn’t you?”

all the dots connected in his head and he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of you planning to seduce him, and the fact you wanted him that bad to make a whole plan.

he brought his hand up, using his two fingers to signal you closer. without a word you stepped closer to him.

you straddled his body, leg wrapping around his waist, before you move his elbows and push him back onto the bed.

he moaned as you did so, looking up at you with wide eyes. “oh? is that how we feeling, sugar?” his words only made your confidence grow, palms resting on each of his pecks.

you tilted your head slightly, bringing one hand down to his pants, slowly palming the sensitive area you were sitting on.

“yeah, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on, either. i feel you through your pants. your little friend here’s practically screaming for me to touch him.”

your hand palms him, slowly gaining speed as logan feels his breath hitch, heart skipping a beat. the friction of your hand manipulating his clothed dick only made him harder, head falling back onto the bed, as his back arched like a slut.

the material of his pajama pants stimulating his cock in all the right places.

at this point your cunt was sticky, logan could almost feel it through the two articles of clothing, forgetting the fact yours was extremely thin.

“feels good, doesn’t it? you were already so fucking hard, lo. does it turn you on that i’m so much younger than you? that this is forbidden?” your words only make his hips buck into your hand, mouth falling open.

you smiled grew, biting your lip as you watched his desperate. “god, it does, doesn’t it? you gonna let me ride you?”

logan moaned and nod his head, “if you’re not inside me within the next ten seconds i’m flipping you over and fucking you myself.” his words made you moan, losing your dominance, feeling the sudden need for him to demolish you.

“really, you don’t want me to sit on your face?” logan’s mouth watered at your words, quickly changing his mind.

he moaned, “wait, fuck yes. give it to me. come here and sit on my fucking face.”

you stood off him, slowly taking off your panties, then bracing yourself and climbing back on top of him, slowly making your way up to his face. you smiled, seeing logan’s desperate expression, as if he needed your pussy in order to live. he yearned for you, and it made you wetter at the sight.

you slowly hovered over his face, lowering onto his mouth, moaning as soon as his nose rubbed against your clit.

his tongue immediately went to your hole, tongue fucking you. you couldn’t help but squirm, moaning again as you felt his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you onto his face.

logan is loving the desperate way you try to bite your lip to keep yourself from being too loud, as if anyone was up at this hour.

"eating me so fucking good," you moan out, feeling as logan moans against your cunt, your words were like fuel to him, and he found himself bucking his hips at nothing because of how beautiful and desperate you sounded.

you adored how eager he was for you, causing you to scream as he moved his tongue quicker, eventually moving his entire face after noticing your liking for his nose on your clit.

he was getting so into it, being so messy, pussy clenching around his tongue, but he slowly removed his arms from your legs, lifting you off his face, then down to his abs, uninstall sitting your clit onto his hard abs, causing you both to moan.

“fuck, need you to cum on my dick, you can cum on my face later. i need you now. need you to ride me so good.”

logan moaned out as you quickly moved down, pulling down his pants and boxers, and with no warning, quickly sinking onto his dick.

logan moaned out slightly louder than you, making your smile grow.

you slowly took your hair out from the ponytail it was in, letting it fall down. logan looked up at you in awe, watching as you started to ride his cock.

“i’ve imagined this so many times, and god, nothing is better than it actually happened. you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek before placing your hands to his v-line, using his hot body to brace yourself as you rode his thick cock.

as you began to bounce, logan was a moaning mess. he started fucking up into you, “come on sugar, ride it.”

his words of encouragement made your moans become louder. he smiled up at you, his hands now holding your hips, holding you in place as he fucked up into you.

“that’s it, baby. take it, take my fucking cock. so fucking tight around me.” he eyes moved from your glowing body, down to your pussy, practically sucking his dick in.

“look at you, sucking me in so good, like she was made for me. fuck.” he looked at your stomach, practically seeing a bulge move in and out of you.

“can see me in your tummy, fuck,” he points out, and you look down and moan. you smiled at him, watching his glistening body, as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“god that’s so hot, you’re so fucking big. told you i needed an older guy to take care of me.”

his name tumbles from your lips, he sees you in your desperate state. the two of you both feel your climaxes reaching closer, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking to you like that.

“good fucking girl.” his voice was so low and raspy, you couldn’t help but moan.

logan enjoyed the fact he had tony stark’s daughter currently bouncing on his cock, begging for more. it was forbidden, and the thought alone almost made him cum.

“you keep talking to me like that i’m gonna cum,” your voice is desperate and needy, and that turns him on to the max, slowly feeling himself reach the edge. he grunts, jaw clenching, feeling himself go almost animalistic, he grunts through his teeth.

“come on sugar. that’s it. cum on my fucking cock. riding me so fucking good i’m gonna cum myself. want you to moan so loud tony hears you from the floor below and knows his arch nemesis is fucking his daughter. wanna see my cum spill out of this sweet little pussy of yours.”

his words carry you over the edge, as he continues to talk you through it. “that’s it, bub, i’m so fucking close. this pretty little pussy is sucking me in so good, yeah i feel you clenching. dick so good it has you trembling, huh, sugar?” you cum on his cock, legs shaking as you stop bouncing, but logan grabs your hips and drills into you, chasing his own climax.

you feeling extremely overstimulated, you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines and how loud you were. logan finally came with you, mouth falling open as he grunted, moaned, and even almost whimpered.

your eyes scrunch shut, when you finally are able to open them you see logan under you, body glistening in sweat, his eyes closed shut and his head pushed back into the pillows, holding your hips so tight, like if he lets you go you’ll leave.

you smile as you come down from your high, logan quickly following you, his smile growing as his eyes meet yours again.

“that what you meant when you said take care of you?” his cocky words make you smack his bare chest, slowly pulling off him, your cum and his cum slowly spilling out of you, getting both of your attention.

“fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” logan mumbled under his breath.

you almost moaned again, feeling empty as you pull his cock out of your pussy, the cum dripping onto his v-line and abs, making your smile grow.

“yes, this is what i meant. fucked me so good.” you giggled, going to get up but logan flipped you over gently and pushed you down onto the bed.

“lay here, sugar. i’ll clean you up.”

logan grabs a damp, warm rag from the bathroom of his hotel room, bringing it to you and wiping up the cum, once you’re fully clean he tosses it into the hamper across the room. he goes to his bag, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to you.

he smiles and carefully brings it over your head, finding your tired state adorable.

once you have the shirt on, you lay down in the bed, pulling the covers over you sleepily, as he puts his pajama pants back on, climbing back into bed next to you.

…

the next morning, logan isn’t in bed with you, you check the time and it’s about 10am. your mission didn’t start for another few hours, so you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some of the hotel breakfast.

you slipped on some sleep shorts and slowly walked out of your room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being served.

you walked over to the counter, putting waffle batter into the waffle maker and turning around, trying to find your dad within the many avengers and x-men sat around the mini tables, but when you saw almost everyone staring at you, some with their mouths slightly open, you became confused.

you turned to see your dad, tony, sat at a table with steve, thor and bruce.

tony almost gasped as you turned around and continued making your waffle, not caring how loud he was.

“why the fuck does the last name on the back of you shirt say howlett.” as soon as your dad reveals that information, you avoid turning back around to face him.

logan smiles from his seat, watching as tony slowly turns to look at him at the table near him.

tony’s eye twitches as he looks over at logan. logan unfortunately cant hide his amused expression, almost giggling at the situation, watching as wade walks into the room, also noticing the back of your shirt.

wade jumps up and down, clapping his hands together. “is that logan’s shirt! omg, they finally fucked!”

bruce and thor can’t help but giggle to each other, as steve holds in his laugh.

tony eyes shoot from wade to logan, practically shaking from how mad he was. it was something logan wanted to take a picture of and remember forever.

“you stuck your dick in my fucking daughter!?” tony’s loud, obviously unhappy voice made you slowly turn around, you and logan making eye contact trying not to break into laughter.

“am i the only one furious at this? why the fuck are you all fucking laughing!?” tony shouts, standing up, almost spilling his coffee all over the table.

…

a/n: don’t forget to comment and tell me your thoughts ;)

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stunie · 4 months

Text

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), fem! reader, overstimulation, squirting, praise (genuine & mocking), degradation, teasing, dumbification, mild humiliation + corruption + dacryphilia + choking, fingering, cunninglingus, muffled (panties), doggy, mating press, wall sex, endo is mean, usage of pet names

mdni - 2.9K wc ; whew it ended up super long ! i had sm fun writing this one <3 as always, individual warnings are below

YAMATO ENDO.

note: ooc, written before newer chapters were out, sorry >:

taking you like this has always been endo’s favorite way to ruin you. your pretty noises are muffled by the mattress, ass high and back arched in a futile attempt to ease the stretch of his cock. it’s so good, and he grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back to slam against his own. his pace is unrelenting, length able to reach the deepest parts inside your cunt as you squeal and tug at the sheets beneath you.

“promise i w-won’t do it again,” you crane your neck to gasp for air, apology coming out frantic and slurred, and your face burns when he laughs— laughs at your sincerity and at the way that your jaw falls slack at the slightest change in his angle. “you’re sorry?” his words come out mocking, relishing in the way your teary eyes clench shut as you try to fight the tension building up in your core— because you know good and well that you’re not allowed to cum until he says the word.

“yea, ‘m sor—”

“sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he spits, “gonna have to make up for it, pretty girl. try again.”

his hands come to push your back further down into the mattress, angling your ass higher for him to let him bully his cock into you harder. it’s so cute how endearing you are, teary eyes trying to focus and think despite the way his heavy cock is hitting so deep inside you, his pace as rough as ever and your head foggy and dizzy.

“i will,” you blurt, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap with each roll of his hips— “i will! i’ll make it up, please endo, ‘m gonna cum, i think ‘m gonna cum—”

“aw,” his tone is low and mocking, pace slowing down ever so slightly as his fingers come to wrap around your throat and apply pressure, “since you’re so cute, i’ll be nice today.”

“cum with me and i’ll let it go, yeah?” he pulls out, until just the tip is inside before he slams back into you. “gonna have to use your brain and match my pace.”

and you’re nodding as soon as the words leave his lips, not a trace of hesitation in the way your shaky hands come to spread your ass wider for him, just the way he likes it. endo feels his dick throb at just how cute you are, holding yourself wide open for him to ravage you as you blabber about how good he feels— how close you are to cumming.

“alrightt,” he lulls, “ready, doll?” his tone comes out amused, but you can’t tell, nodding so desperately as your hips start to jerk. in an instant, he’s picking up his pace, hitting so deep inside you that it makes your eyes roll back in your skull, endo fucking you completely senseless with each snap of his hips.

“e-endo—” you gasp when the hand around your neck moves to push your head down, allowing him to better leverage himself as he buries his cock into the spot that has you screaming. your eyes widen when he finally growls out the word, the word that lets the knot inside you snap as you gush around his cock, thighs reduced to a violent tremor.

“f-fuuck,” he groans when your walls squeeze and flutter wildly against him, his jaw clenching shut to grunt a “just like that.”

“that’s my fucking girl,” he slurs lazily, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you as your walls continue to flutter around the thickness, your chest heaving up and down from the intensity.

the praise makes your heart swoon even with your current state, eyes half lidded and heavy and your mind barely able to register the lewd noises coming from your dripping cunt.

“feel good now? making a mess all over me?”

“mmhm,” you nod mindlessly, tired arms reaching back to swipe at your cunt like clockwork. it was something endo had taught you the very first time he took you, and you’ve never failed to do it since. it’s usually about now when you collect the load that seeps out of your hole, and he’ll pull you onto his lap next, urging you to stick those fingers in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.

he’s addicted to how good the sight of you swallowing his cum makes him feel, cock throbbing and aching— picturing those pretty lips wrapped around his length again. it’s always enough to rile him up again and again.

your tired fingers rub between your folds, collecting the slick, but something’s different. “h-huh?” you stutter, head craning back to look at your hand. it takes you a moment, innocent eyes squinting as you inspect your fingers— there’s nothing besides your own slick.

“oh, fuck,” endo laughs loudly, “i can’t believe it.”

he grabs your arm roughly, earning a surprised yelp from you as he flips you onto your back, pressing your thighs flush against your own chest, his body hovering over you with a hunger that sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“still so fucking innocent, huh? thought you knew me better than that.”

“i-i don’t understand..” your voice trails off, face burning with embarrassment because he’s always being so mean to you. it takes you by surprise when you feel it slap against your clit, your gaze finally shifting downwards to see his cock— throbbing and slick with your juices, thick precum collecting at the tip.

he really didn’t cum.

“oh, dumb girl,” he coos, “did you forget our agreement?”

he wishes he had whipped out his phone to record the sight of you. it’s adorable, your pretty body folded into a mating press, teary eyes desperately looking up at him as you whine and complain that he tricked you, that’s he’s not being fair, but all he can think about is how he wants to ruin that pussy that you have so clearly on display for him.

he pushes his length inside you all at once, tip kissing your cervix as your head falls back, sobbing that’s it’s too much for you. “aww,” endo feigns sympathy, leaning forward until his face hovers right over the side of your neck, “it’s just too bad you didn’t do a very good job matching my timing.”

he licks a slow, deliberate stripe down your neck and sucks— sucks hard before releasing the skin with a pop to admire the mark he’s planted on you. “since you couldn’t do that for me,” he starts, fingers running along your waist, “you don’t have any other choice but to let me use this pretty body of yours, don’t you?”

“gonna fuck you so stupid— ‘till your brain’s too mushy to think up any more little tricks.”

KIRYUU MITSUKI.

“hey,” kiryuu slaps your cunt lightly, “i don’t remember teaching you to do that.”

his voice is gentle, almost unnervingly so as he pulls your back flush against his chest, hand coming to spread you open for him. “let’s try again.”

“j-just wanted more…kiryuu,” you whine when he’s slow to sink the first finger deep inside, pumping it in and out as his thumb comes to circle at your clit, the precision making your hips jerk and push against him.

“more?” his voice comes out directly besides your ear and it sends a strong shiver down your back, “you’re getting real greedy with me, princess.”

he obliges regardless, eyes gauging your reaction as he slips a second finger inside, pumping them a little faster into your cunt. “f-fuck…” you sigh, walls fluttering eagerly around his fingers when he begins to curl them against your walls.

“look— at the mess you’re making all over us.” your eyes shift downwards, face burning at the sight of his fingers, pretty hands coated in thick layers of your slick, the muscles of his forearms flexing with each curl of his fingers. “see?”

“that’s why i’m gonna take my time with you,” he coos, fingers curling against that spongy spot inside you that dots your vision with stars, “n watch your pretty pussy swallow my fingers like this.”

the lewd noises of his fingers fucking your cunt has you approaching your high, but you’re greedy for more— and knows that painfully well. he’s not any different, cock bulging tight under his pants and desperate to bury itself deep inside you, but not yet.

kiryuu fights back the smile that threatens to creep onto his lips when you gasp loudly at the stretch from a third finger slipping inside you, the thickness making your thighs tremble against his touch. “so pretty for me,” he lulls, “feeling good, huh?”

he loves watching your reactions, eyes intent on watching the way your expression contorts with pleasure, mouth slightly ajar to let out little pants and huffs, your own attention focused on how good his fingers feel inside you. he can tell you’re getting close with the way your thigh has started to tremble harder against his, hips occasionally jerking from the stimulation.

“you’re so good,” he coos, letting out a lazy grunt as his other hand comes to hold your face, “but no more looking. okay?”

his hand clasps over your mouth, your head tilting back to face the ceiling— and that’s when he switches. your head falls back on his shoulder when he’s suddenly he’s suddenly fucking you faster, fingers slamming into the most sensitive spots inside you. his thumb comes to rub roughly at your clit, drawing lewd moans from you as your thighs try and clamp together to fight the stimulation.

“i know, baby, i know—” his voice comes out calm, and he knows what you need. he knows how to work his fingers to make your head spin, knows this pace will have you whining that it’s too much, but he wants to see you cum. so he aims to pummel his fingers against that deep spot inside you, relishing in the way your thighs tremble violently in response.

“mmmp—!” your moans come out muffled against his hand, but he understands. “you’ll cum for me this time, won’t you?”

his hand leaves your mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting the two before he’s holding your thigh open for him, spreading you so he can thumb at your clit harder. “y-yes! ‘m gonna cum, f-fuck— kiryuu” you babble, eyes clenching shut and hands coming to squeeze at his forearms.

it’s too much. you find yourself right along the edge, eyes clenched shut because it’s just too much, but your cunt is eagerly swallowing his fingers whole, juices dripping down your thighs and his arms— “that’s right, you’re so good for me.” his voice comes out a little rushed, a little more breathless as he fucks his fingers into you.

“you can take this.”

all it takes is one more curl of fingers and his thumb to swipe over your clit to have you crying his name loudly, cunt spasming around his fingers as you gush all over him. you whine when he takes his fingers out, dragging them along your folds to watch the way your hips jerk at the overstimulation.

“that was better. see?”

he brings his fingers to your face, and you open your mouth in a daze, swirling your tongue lazily around each finger as he sighs contently, cock throbbing at the thought of your lips wrapped around his dick instead. “ahh… that’s so good.”

“you’re doing so good,” he whispers, “you can take another one. turn around for me, sweet thing.”

KAJI REN.

“thought i told you to be quiet,” kaji growls against your cunt, “not to fake it.”

“‘m trying—” you stammer, thighs trembling as your hands lay flat on the surface, your body bent over his desk as he eats you out from behind.

“what?” his voice ghosts against your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath, “needa be muffled?”

your face burns when he takes out your panties, wet from the way he was grinding his cock against your clothed cunt earlier. you got him so riled up— his mind still stuck on how irresistible you looked folded over his desk, his bulge nestled so nicely between the globes of your ass. he should have tossed you onto his bed next, get a good look at how his cock sits between your thighs when you’re in prone bone, then get you arching your back and pulling at the sheets for him because he always fucks you that good.

but you had to test his patience today.

“open.” he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, fingers subtly ghosting over your lips before his hands are back around your thighs, tugging on them to urge you to come closer.

"gonna teach you a lesson," he spits, and his mouth is back on your cunt in an instant, tongue coming to roughly lap at the slick that’s started dripping. your face contorts, thighs pressing together- but his rough hands are moving to keep you wide open for him.

kaji has always been messy, groaning directly into your cunt as he licks and sucks, eating you out with fervor until he knows your eyes are rolling back into your skull, lewd noises barely muffled by the tiny wad of fabric in your mouth.

he’s slurping loudly, licking and sucking on your clit, and he brings his tongue down to prod at your hole, eyes narrowing into a glare when you try and clench your thighs together. his hands come to hook around the front of your hips, yanking you roughly back until you’re flush against his face, his tongue deep inside your hole as he licks in every direction, fucking you on his tongue while you make those sinful noises for him.

“k-kaji,” your words come out slurred from the muffle, your saliva dribbling onto his table, “‘m close!”

“oh f-fuck,” you cry when two fingers are shoved deep inside you, lewd noises echoing in his room when he fucks them in and out of your cunt, his mouth coming to flick at your clit. it’s becoming too much, and you try to escape by going higher onto your toes— but he doesn’t let you.

“don’t you dare,” he warns with a low growl against your cunt, hand squeezing your thigh to keep you firmly planted against his face. “quit squirming and take it.”

the knot in your stomach is tightening, pushing you closer and closer as his fingers seem to reach impossibly further inside your cunt with each movement, beating against that sweet spot inside that has you moaning so loudly against your panties.

“a-ah—” your eyes widen when his tongue flicks over your clit perfectly, and the coil inside your stomach snaps in an instant, screaming into the fabric as your walls flutter over his fingers, gushing into his mouth as he groans and laps at your cunt messily.

your jaw goes slack even he begins to slows down, fingers leaving your walls empty and needy so he can bring them to his lips and suck on them, get a last taste of you before he’s sloppily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. your panties fall onto his desk, body reduced to a trembling mess.

and it’s everywhere. dripping down your thighs, coated over his entire hand— his face. if he was even trying to get it off of his mouth in the first place, it didn’t work.

“you’re fucking messy,” his voice is raspy when he leans over you, heavy cock pressing against your ass. “and we’re not done yet.”

there’s a deep, shaky groan from him when he first pushes his cock between your thighs, using your slick to get his dick wet. he’s throbbing by now, so desperate to be inside you, and it’s rubbing against your folds so nicely, tip nudging against your swollen clit each time he pushes forward.

“k-kaji,” you whine, “i wanna see you.”

his eyes widen a bit at the innocent request, your pretty face peering back at him with that fucked out look in your eyes— it’s cute. he’s gentle when his arms come to wrap around you, picking you up and pressing your back against the walls of his room.

“gonna make you cum over n over,” he grunts, sinking you slowly down onto his thickness. he’s always been harder to take in this position, cock practically splitting you open— and your sinful moans are going straight into his ear with the way you’ve latched onto his shoulders.

“you’re so big, kaji,” you gasp, “feels so good.”

“yeah?” his voice is low, breathless as he starts to slam his hips up into yours, tip prodding against your cervix each time he bottoms out. “you like that?”

“mhm,” your lips come to messily suck at his neck, and he groans loudly. “want more, kaji. please—”

"more?" he snarls, audible slaps echoing throughout the room from the way he's bouncing you even harder against his hips. "squirting all over my face wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

you grab at him to avoid falling from the roughness, arms tangled tightly around his neck to let him fuck you with pure strength, thickness spreading you so good as your slick dribbles down his balls.

"i better not hear you whining later that it’s too much.”

pt 2: suo, sakura, togame, & umemiya x f!reader

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