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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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urlocalclosetcase · 2 years

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There does come a time when you wonder if you’re capable of being loved. You lay on your bed in agony as the little digital numbers on the top part of your screen count up to 59 and reset. You’ll toss and turn and rerun every scenario you can think of. You’ll stare in silence, silence that if you listen hard enough, you’ll hear your eyelids open and close. Then you ask yourself that question- “Am I capable of being loved?”

There’s a reason you ask that question. It’s not because of movies or tv shows or some other superficial thing. It’s because of the people around you. You’ll see your friends say what you want, do what you want, feel what you want- have what you want. Why does it come so easily for them? Are you broken? Is there some small shitty gear inside of you that’s too rusty? Too deformed?

Time and time again, you’ll see them fall in and out of love. They’ll fall in love with the idea of love and grow to hate it. All the while you sit and watch like some crow perched on a wire. Waiting for a chance where you can swoop down and grab love with all your might. Just when you think the moment is right, a scarecrow appears. Or maybe it was always there. Maybe it wants to keep whatever it’s guarding all to itself. Maybe it’s because you’re undeserving. Maybe it’s something not meant for you.

There come moments when you may not receive love, but rather you give it. You give and give and give, you view these mundane actions as Hollywood movies come to life. You think you’re writing one of the worlds greatest love stories and your pen is flowing so swiftly across the paper and the ink is marking every last detail and- and something stops it. Some debris gets under the paper which offsets the course of the pen making it look dirty. What happened? Oh. Right. You. You happened. You somehow messed this up and now the ink has been spilled and it’s ruining your writing and the ink is consuming everything and making it all a mess with no real meaning and you’re watching in horror as it all goes to shit. You can’t even give love without messing it up in your own spectacular way.

Maybe you’re just meant to teach others just how much love they can experience. Maybe you nudge them in the right direction, maybe you teach them some life long lesson. You show someone how a person can truly love them, which gives them hope. Hope you haven’t experienced. You’ve never been the kid that had people say “I have a crush on you.” No one’s ever gone out of their way for you. No one’s ever done anything that even comes close to your lesser gestures of love. You’re just… there.

Eventually all that needs an outlet. And so you seek validation from any and every corner you can think of. You’ll have some good experiences and some horrible experiences. You’ll hear constant remakes about how exotic your skin is and how good you feel. You’ll hear just about anything and everything about your outer layer- “Nice hair. I like your legs. You have a nice complexion. You feel good. You’re hot. You’re sexy.” And yea, you’ll like it for about 2-3 times total. But then you long for more- yearn for more. You want someone to say “you have nice eyes. I like that when you smile your ears fly back. I think it’s cool that you’re into this. I like how you make me laugh. I like how your overly sentimental about your cameras and the pictures and videos you take and the way you capture people in the moment.”

But that day doesn’t come. After countless attempts of putting yourself out there and going through so many talking stages and awkward situations, all you have left to show for all that is a broken, unlovable, deformed, overly optimistic heart.

After all I’ve endured, and I can’t even say the proper nouns or pronouns. “You” and “I” become one of the same when avoidance is your solution. I can’t admit when it’s me and I project onto others. The “you” is me and the “I” is you. This constant merry go round of shit covered horses that’s in flames just keeps on going and going. I hope that one day someone asks me to ride a different ride that makes me get off of this malicious contraption.

#just writing tingz 😼‼️#gay #mlm #gay youth #gayguy #mlm yearning #gay chat #yearning #gaytext #mlm thoughts #fml #i wrote something!#book ill never write #just writing #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #letting the days go by

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person. You never have been. It’s just not part of your nature. If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else. You just… do you. You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good. And if it’s bad, it’s good. Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit? Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open. “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron. What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up.

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl. You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench. “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today? Thursday? Friday? Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day. Thursday, then. …Thursday?” You shake your head. “Ugh, see? Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.” He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers. It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now. Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that. Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it. “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation. To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small. Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here. “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap. You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are. “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron. First and last word, that’s all it takes. And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?” He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel. “ Easy credits. Just begging for it. Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust. As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly. Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him. “You just turned my money into a sex object. It was vile. I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging. You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it. “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now. Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?” You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them. Withdrawal stage, ha. “Of course it’s all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s the fucking worst. And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this? Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to. “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you. “I did not. When the fuck did I cheat? I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more. He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire. “Okay, first of all? Rude. I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright? I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him. And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good. He smells… unbelievably fucking good. Always. Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on. It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit. No such luck so far.

“Whatever. The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want. In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming. “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?” He goes on, completely ignoring you. “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen? You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm? No snorgasms? Hmmm? No happy naps? No captain midnights? No mattress fracking? Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked. “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again. You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one. “Anyways. Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!” You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting. And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills. Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems. “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!” You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation. “There it is! You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself! Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both. Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum? This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused. He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath. “Sorry. But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal. And descriptive. “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right. Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh? I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me. Not right now. Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh. Something occurs to you, something… sinister. Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long. It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before. You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan. You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away. A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?” You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more. “Now many times did you cum in your sleep? Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?” He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time. “It was involuntary.”

You shrug. “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious. “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?” You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with. Instead, your voice is soft, questioning. Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait. You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape. The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,” he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought. Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this. The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous. “It’s your room, too. Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there. You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?” You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number. You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them. “Red-Six. Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder. “Or, wait… Neah. No—it was… Nalal. Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest. “It was starting to get obnoxious. Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is. “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should. Lower than it should. You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls? Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel. “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head. “Sometimes a sabbatical is good. I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment. “I’m sorry? And… you’re welcome. I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long. The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable. At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together. I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block. He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus. You have to control yourself. You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless. It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this. Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever. One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option. “This isn’t a good idea. It’s… not healthy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him. “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing. It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit. “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection. “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp. “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—” You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?” Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky. Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast? This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself? “Finish it. Sooner, rather than later. Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident. Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive. Fuck. Dameron, and you, in bed. It could be mean. It could be rough. A fight for dominance more than anything. He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now. Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning. Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?” Are the first recognizable words that can be heard. “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips. “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance. It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working. Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before. Of course. Stupid. Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air. You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed? A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet. You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think. Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences. You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off. This is different. This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable. A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…” Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you. There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him. Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal. You don’t like it. You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead. The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong. “I mean, y’know. Theoretically speaking, and all. If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before. Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something. This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you. Shit. You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin. You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done. What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation. You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it. Stop it. Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation. How dare he? How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses? You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him. Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier. “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet. No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright? Don’t talk to me. You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight. And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it. It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has. Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least. You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it. You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving. It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds. A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons. Mainly, the nerve of him. The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,” You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space. You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare. “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge. “You’re… plotting. Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship. “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it. Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty. Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it. “Something that you like, that gets you going. Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further. “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should. It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not. This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable. The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?” You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same. “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart. “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks. Default to normal, default to normal. “Your fucking attitude. Your demeanor. The way you talk down to me. You don’t listen. You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen. You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?” He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second. This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here. He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on. “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back. “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity. Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed. “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily. “Have since the moment we met. And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it. You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?” You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak. “Pop the top on this bitch. Put me out of my fucking misery, right now. You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait. And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up. You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way. He deserved that. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake. Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you. Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders. It’s not sexual. It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating. He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline. His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter. They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret. “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need. Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words. To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit. You feel like you’re literally burning up with it. You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire. “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone. “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember. Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it. How long’s it been? Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless. Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes. Oh fuck, be cool, be cool. “You think this is gonna work? Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek. The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs. How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard. “Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second. Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow. “Beard or no beard, makes no difference. Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone. “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious. Maker, how long until your shift is over? You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league. “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?” Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder. “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself. Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next. “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me. But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist. Resist . You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios. Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you. Go nice and slow. I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away. I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it. How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker. This is a trick. It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it. You can’t fucking fall for it. It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all. He’s lying to get your guard down. He laughed at your flirting. He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him. You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback. You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say. Your room. It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now. Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register. “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see. I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to. Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out. And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm. Your bed,” he eventually decides. “I want you comfortable. You shower at night. Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep. That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point. And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while. However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening. Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through. Maker, it’s fucking painful. You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?” You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time. Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body. “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in. Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before. Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other. Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies. Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy. It hurts to lose a first name. But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design. He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it. Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now. It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two. You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea. Nothing about it comes out right. The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself. Oh Maker, can you imagine? How fucking proud of himself he’d be? You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it. Where’d it go? Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it. Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false…

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear. You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you. Like… teakwood, maybe? Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind. What the fuck does teakwood even smell like? “Maybe it’s just what I need. You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low. It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls? Just a little bit? That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad. That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…” You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now. “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it. “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato. It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low. “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs. “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage. “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this. Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be. You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want. And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move. Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body. You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder. “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you. He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side. “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—” Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down. But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second. As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise. The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use. Fuck , it’s been so long . You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now. It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks. “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs. “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion. The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone. Fuck, he almost made you cum. He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide. You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again. You have to close your eyes. You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more. “Shhhit. I…��

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it. Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless. “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck. Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back. They start… moving slightly. Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize. He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm. Dameron might cum in his pants like this. Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum. You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight. You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving. “One… one more. If you want. You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you. “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.” You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether. His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb. The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure. Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger. He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time. He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat. Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief. Genuine, not embellished. He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go. You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this. You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again. It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?” Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that. He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly. “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you. Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet. Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much. You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes. It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it? You could. You could cum right now. What’s two weeks of pay? You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence. Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear. “Be nice. I’m being nice.”

You should bite him. Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now. Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again. Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying. You need air. Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this. If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all. Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore. “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half. He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that. Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good. Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good. Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in. Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?” He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them. “How clearly do you remember the rules? What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt. No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer. “Tell me. No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind. But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore. There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement. The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it. “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends. Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—” The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out. “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine. “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does. The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it. You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout. You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it. You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves. The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest. “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens. Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you? Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck. “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order. “Right now. Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it. “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm. You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it. Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day. First names hurt. You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence. Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks. A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 3 years

Text

“What are you doing in my bed?”

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Fluffy angst and a bit of smut towards the end

Word Count: 7,294

Concept: Kim Hongjoong doesn’t want to be a virgin anymore and he’s determined to get his way, even if it involves sneaking into your bedroom between tasks.

Credits to a few prompt-lists I found trawling the internet, but I lost the links, I’m sorry :( If you recognise any, please let me know and I will do proper credits x

Masterlist

“This was a terrible, terrible idea,” you think to yourself, as you survey the ‘damage’ in the dorm. Oh there’s nothing wrong with the state of the rooms - it’s the state of the boys themselves. Because of course what the company set up as a cooking and eating game for a V Live descended into a drinking game the minute the main staff left. Yet it’s actually surprisingly easy to chase the younger ones off to bed. Which just leaves the eldest two: long-legged, sweet but slightly tipsy Seonghwa and their petite, treacherously-pretty but definitely-plastered leader Hong-Joong. Sizing up the levels of intoxication and seniority, You decide to tackle the slightly younger leader first.

“Bed, Hong-Joong!” you attempt, mustering up what you hope is a convincing ‘eomma’ vibe. Apparently you’re not very convincing though because he just squeals and bats you away.

“Ani! I’m leader! No bed!” he objects. “Anyway, I’m want to annoy Seonghwa first,” he announces, in endearingly grammatically-incorrect English, complete with a mischievous smile, before darting out of your reach and perching himself on the arm of the couch to watch his hyung record a ‘cute’ wake-up message for ATINY.

“I will show you the cute version,” Seonghwa tells his leader dutifully, cue card in hand, before turning towards the one waiting camera.

“Ani, I don’t want to see!!” wails Hong-Joong dramatically, collapsing off the arm of the couch onto the seat itself in apparent agony, with his eyes squeezed shut. “Argh! Jebal!” he yells, clearly determined to be a massive brat about poor Seonghwa’s task. He then proceeds to make ridiculous high-pitched noises while Seonghwa reads his message out, until Seonghwa cuts him off with a soft reprimand, knowing only he can use banmal with his leader: “Ah, keep quiet.” Hong-Joong obediently stops making noises, but then smirks unrepentantly when the older boy laughs at himself and stops the reading before screaming in frustration, himself, at the difficulty of his recording, making the now-quiet Hong-Joong snicker.

“Argh! I can’t do this!” Seonghwa laments. Noting that Hong-Joong has calmed down, he decides to ask him for some feedback on the instructions:

“What’s the difference between sexy and sensuous?” This gets Hong-Joong’s attention.

“Sexy? Ah, you don’t know?” he replies, springing up off the couch with drunken bravado, ready to show his hyung how it’s done. He staggers over to a very confused Seonghwa, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry.

“Sexy is...just...you see it…” he babbles meaninglessly. “This is sexy, this is sexy. If it’s sensuous...when you see it…” then gives him a somewhat-mystifying rendition of ‘sexy’ and mumbles "that's what I mean" before drifting out of the room and towards the stairs to their bedrooms, singing to himself. Seonghwa just stares after him, at a loss, then returns to his recording in peace. You give the older boy an encouraging smile, figuring he’s probably still sober enough to get himself up to bed, and then venture up to check on Hong-Joong. Only he’s not in his bedroom.

Sighing to yourself, you check the other boys’ rooms but then have to conclude that he’s in the bathroom, and there’s not much you can do there, except knock and call out to him if he’s still not out in ten minutes. So you head to your room, intending to get changed and prepare for bed. Only when you swing the door open, Hong-Joong is sprawled on his back, still fully dressed, in your bed - under the covers. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Excuse me, Hong-Joong? What are you doing in my bed?” you ask him, exasperatedly.

“I will try to seduce you, noona,” he tells you, in his adorably-accented, slightly off-kilter English, lovely long eyelashes fluttering coyly, as he sits up.

“Wha-I mean what…?” you stammer, assuming he’s just got his words tangled again. “Seduce?” You’re desperately trying to think of a plausible alternative, but your mind is drawing a blank from panic. Admittedly nothing innocent fits this scenario.

“Eung - yuhokhaeyo,” he affirms, nodding cutely.

“Um...you’re drunk, sweetheart,” you tell him, sitting tentatively by his side and patting his shoulder soothingly. You want to have misinterpreted him nearly as much as you want to take him up on his offer, but, despite his avowed attempt to ‘tempt’ you, in Korean parlance, you resist. He pouts a little and flings himself back onto his back, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Chwihaji anassoyo~~” [I’m not drunk] he whines, before switching back to English, frustrated at being misunderstood, as he sees it. “I just want...have sex with someone," he tries.

“Probably not the best time to have sex, really,” you point out, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, as you don’t want to embarrass him or indeed give yourself away. He sits up suddenly, opens his eyes and fixes you with an intense stare. You falter, blush and lower your own eyes, but he puts a finger under your chin and gently lifts your face to look in your eyes.

“Will you...reconsider...if I am...sober?” he asks you, carefully, still in English.

“I don’t...I mean it’s probably not a great idea, tiger,” you caution him. “Wait though...are you...what are you saying...exactly?” you correct yourself, suddenly noticing that his cheeks are flushed almost the same shade as his strawberry-bangs and his eyes are avidly studying your duvet. He hums nervously, smoothing the duvet with his hand, but doesn’t answer or even look up at you. The realization hits you as all the pieces come together. “Chyeonyo-ye-yo?” [Are you a virgin?] you ask him softly, not wanting to embarrass him either way. He nods shyly, keeping his head and eyes down and pulling at a loose thread on the duvet as his cheeks flush even hotter.

“Wow...I mean...wow,” you falter. “I’m sorry honey, I really didn’t know,” you reassure him, slipping your hand under his, on the cover, with your palm facing up. After a moment, his fingers curl tentatively around your hand and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. “Well...um...maybe we can wait until you’ve sobered up and then we can try and find you...I mean find a way to help you get...um...erm...laid,” you finish awkwardly, feeling like his innocence is being violated by the very thought of it. But then you remember he was the one who asked, so perhaps he’s not that innocent - at least of lustful thoughts.

“Laid?” he asks you now, reigniting your reluctance to contact one of the professionals the company usually engages for this kind of service.

“Er...laid is a slang term for...for um…” you stall.

“Sex?” Hong-Joong chirps brightly, looking pleased with himself and finally catching your eye, now that he feels he has something to be pleased with himself about - his English ability.

“Yeah, sex,” you admit reluctantly. “Look, Joong, are you sure about this?” you ask him.

“Ne,” he whispers, leaning towards you expectantly and closing his eyes again.

“Wow! No, no, no!” you deter him, hurriedly, gently moving him back against the headboard of your bed. “No, I meant are you sure you want me to find someone to have sex with you?” He pouts and opens his eyes - this time holding your gaze.

“I want,” he hesitates, checking your eyes, “to...to?” You nod, assuming he’s just checking his grammar. “I want to have sex with you, noona. Right now,” he tells you firmly, nodding for emphasis. You’re already shaking your head, but you stand up and pull him up with you to add some weight to your refusal of this proposal.

“No. You’re not losing your virginity when you’ve been drinking and might regret it tomorrow - or possibly not even remember it, from the looks of you,” you tease him gently. “C’mon - come back to your room and get some sleep.” He shakes his head vehemently, tossing his hair petulantly and stamps his foot.

“Kiseu-haejwo~~” [Kiss me] he whines, stubbornly refusing to move when you tug at his arm.

“It’s not happening, honey,” you sigh.

“But you call me honey,” he persists, tossing his hair away from his eyes to wink at you provocatively, and sticking his tongue out for good measure.

“Yeah. I did,” you admit, sighing again at his persistence. “But it’s just a general term of endearment, like...sweetheart.”

“Call me jagiya,” he flirts, deliberately fluttering his amazing eyelashes at you.

“Kim Hong-Joong!” you warn him in a furious whisper. He ignores you, quickly grabs your chin in both of his hands and presses his lips to yours before you can stop him. Startled, you just let him kiss you, until he teases your lips open and slips his tongue into your mouth.

“No-no-no-no-no! Bad, bad, boy!” you tell him firmly, pushing him away with both hands. He just giggles and tries again, but this time you’re ready for him and put your hand against his chest to keep him back. “Right. Bed! Right now...go!” you stammer, fumbling your words as you try to stop yourself from shaking...or wanting to feel his lips on yours again. He smirks, grabs you around the waist this time and slams you up against the wall to kiss you again. This time with no prelude, just straight up making out. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then push him away again.

He stops but only to lick his own lip experimentally. “Mm...you taste like fucking candy,” he teases you, with another wink, moving back in for the kill.

“What are you doing?!” you demand, stopping him again. “Behave! You’ll get me fired!”

“I won’t!” he pouts.

“You most certainly will,” you correct him. “If there was a camera in my room, I’d be packing my bags already.”

“Really?” he asks, looking genuinely worried this time. You nod fervently. “Staff have to sign contracts as well, you know,” you explain. “I’m sorry, honey. Look, let’s get you back to your room before the others start looking for you to finish that mission, okay? He gives you a resentful, sulky look, but obediently exits your room, where you hear his dainty footsteps padding across to his bedroom and his door open and close, just before Seonghwa comes up the stairs looking for him. Trying not to panic at how close that was, you peel your clothes off and start to prepare for bed.

*************************************************

So you really shouldn’t be surprised when he endeavours to make your job incredibly difficult the next day. Seems, contrary to the saying, hell hath no fury like a kpop idol scorned. Worse, you already have to explain the day’s schedule to eight boys in various stages of hangover hell. Fortunately, in most cases it’s more a matter of keeping them awake and attentive, but Hong-Joong’s idea of revenge is yelling things and making distracting noises throughout the entire meeting. By the time you’re on the last round of explanations and he starts to object, you throw caution to the wind and slap your hand straight over his pretty mouth.

“If you interrupt me one more time, Hong-Joong, so help me God...” you warn him, through clenched teeth. He watches you fake-innocently over your hand, while the others come around long enough to snicker conspiratorially at the sight of their leader being chastised. You remove your hand, but continue giving him a warning look, then finish explaining the schedule and shoo them all into hair and makeup, overriding their pleading cries of ‘feeling sick’ and ‘wanting to go back to bed’ with the reminder that they got themselves into this mess, and that tomorrow is a free day, so they only need to keep it together for the rest of today before they’ll win a break.

They’re filing dutifully out of the cars, having had the luxury of a camera-less ride to the studio, Hong-Joong looking very pleased with his freshly-dyed bright blue bangs, when San and Wooyoung decide to accost you.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” you ask, eyeing a grinning San off suspiciously.

“Hong-Joong-hyung is want to have sex with you, noona” the younger boy informs you smugly, in halting English. San nods sagely, confirming this apparently hot tip. You close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly, trying not to show them that either a) you know this or b) you’re equally problematically attracted to their leader.

“Okay even if he did...which I doubt,” you begin, keeping your voice calm with difficulty. “Why on earth would he tell you two that?” you ask.

“He tell all members,” San updates you gleefully, before reverting to Korean to elaborate: “We were sharing TMI facts for games.”

“Great. That’s great,” you tell them sarcastically. “And on what planet does he think that information would be an appropriate TMI to share?”

“Oh he doesn’t...he was just really intoxicated by then,” Wooyoung giggles.

“This just gets better and better,” you marvel.

“Are you going to yell at him again, noona?” Wooyoung asks you, trying to contain his obvious glee. San watches seemingly impassively, but you can see the anticipation in his eyes. You narrow your own.

“So how do I know you two aren’t just making this up for a prank? Or to get your leader in more trouble?” you ask, pretending to be suspicious.

“Ask the others,” San shrugs. “Or ask him.” This throws you and they can sense it, which understandably deepens their curiosity and makes you panic.

"Fine. Tell him to come see me once you're done with the radio slot," you tell them, attempting to call their bluff.

It doesn't quite go according to plan though. You’re just thinking you've maybe impressed the gravity of the situation on Ateez's leader when he interrupts you with characteristic sass, but careful to stick to jondaemal: “Noona, jebal geuman malhago kiseuhae julraeyo?” [Noona, would you please stop talking and kiss me?]. Thank God you were prescient enough to talk to him alone. You stare at him open-mouthed.

“You...what...did you hear anything I just said!?” you demand. He nods, cutely, swinging his shoulders with his hands clasped together in front of him to complete the innocent look, and shoots you a come-hither look, through his eyelashes.

“So um...if you heard me, did you understand me?” you check, wishing your Korean was more fluent for situations like this.

“Yes, I understand,” he murmurs in English, his voice husky.

“So why…” you try, with another sigh. “Why did you still ask for a kiss?” He shrugs, pouts, pushes the toe of his boot into the leg of the couch he’s standing beside then flops heavily into it with a deeply wounded sigh. You follow suit, seating yourself on the other couch. Hong-Joong keeps his head lowered and stays silent, occasionally adjusting his eyelashes with his pointer finger until you have to ask, against your better judgment, but you feel bad for rejecting him:

“Gwaenchanaeyo, Joong?”

He sniffs disconsolately, plays with his eyelashes again, and shakes his head with a little hiccoughing sob. Well now you feel really bad, but this is a no-win situation.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart,” you try, softening your voice. He nods, quickly, acknowledging your words, but swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. You hold back a sigh of exasperation, and move to sit by him on his couch, tentatively placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Joong - don’t be like that,” you plead. “These aren’t my rules. But even if there weren’t rules...you’re so young. Don’t you want your first time to be with someone else your age. Who maybe can share the...the experience with you?” You try not to picture how it will more likely go if you arrange something for him, but push the thought away, pretending to yourself that the company can somehow make it romantic for him.

“Ani,” he sulks, head still lowered and blueberry bubblegum bangs spilling over his face. “I want you to kiss me.” He finally lifts his head and fixes you with his big, dark eyes. “Jebal,” he begs, voice breaking a little. “Only once, then I stop asking,” he bargains, in English, picking up on the subtle change in your expression. You sigh, close your eyes, and put your head in your hands, steeling yourself. You can feel Hong-Joong’s eyes on you. You can almost feel his heart thumping in his chest as he waits nervously for an answer.

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly, knowing in your heart of hearts that, despite his words, it won’t stop here. “On one condition. You are not to tell anybody ever.” He nods obediently, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Okay then...Where am I kissing you?”

He is already facing you in anticipation, his hands neatly on his thighs and his eyes shut so you can see those glorious eyelashes resting on his cheeks. The tiniest tracks of his tears stain his pretty face, and his lips are parted, ready for his requested kiss. But he opens his eyes at the question, confused.

“Right here,” he tells you, cocking his head to the side. You laugh softly.

“No. Where on yourself do you want to be kissed?” you amend.

“Oh…” he is a little flustered by the question. “On…” he touches his lips. “On my mouth,” he requests. You smile at his innocence.

“Okay. Close your eyes again,” you tell him. He does so obediently and you lean across to kiss him softly, but sensuously, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and tangle it with yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you twine yours around his neck, turning your head on the side to allow him to sate his appetite on you. You only stop him, gently, when his hands sneak around towards your chest.

“There you go,” you murmur, extricating yourself reluctantly from his embrace. “Happy?”

“Yes,” he breathes, but he looks distinctly the opposite. “Noona? I...I have to go,” he tells you. You’re a bit taken aback, but you nod to him and let him up and he darts out of the room without a backwards glance. ‘Oh boy - this is gonna be fun’ you think to yourself, before leaving the little studio lounge to go round the other boys up.

You leave Hong-Joong until last, to give him some privacy to sort out his presumably mixed emotions, but it gets to the point that you really need them all in the cars, so you have to resort to checking the private recording booths, though you can’t imagine why he would be in one of them without booking it, and of course the bathrooms - which you plan to leave until absolute last. You ask the others if they’ve seen him, but they all shrug at you innocently. Finally Yeosang remembers that he saw their leader go upstairs to the sleeping pods. Thanking him exasperatedly, you jog up the stairs and then enter the space quietly, knowing that idols use it to recuperate between scheduled events. Most of the pods seem to be empty though, and it’s only when your ears adjust that you hear Hong-Joong’s voice and feel your cheeks flush.

At least he’s not sleeping, you reason, so you won’t have to wake him, but the sharp little intakes of breath and the quiet moans you hear make you think waking him would be infinitely less trouble. Still...if he’s with someone, at least now you won’t have to find him a date. You slide the door across, preparing yourself to chastise him at least a little, for form’s sake, but he’s alone. And boy, does he look guilty when he catches your eye. After a brief deer-caught-in-headlights moment, he freaks out completely, squeals loudly and throws himself commando-style off the further side of the little camp-bed, re-emerging adorably with the top of his face peeping over the mattress at you.

“Hong-Joong?! Are you alright?" you laugh. He nods and gives you cute v-fingers over his eyes and a mischievous smile. "Erm, good...what were you...wait were you just getting yourself off?” you ask him, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop yourself and wishing he didn’t look quite so delectable - kneeling up on his shins, chest heaving, with his hair dishevelled, lips just parted and eyes at half-mast and his arms awkwardly crossed across his crotch.

“U-uh...no...I was just…” he stammers, deeply unconvincingly, despite the tinkling sound of the buckle of his jeans belt dangling against the side of his leg.

“Okay, so the second car is leaving and you need to get yourself down there quick smart before it leaves without you,” you tell him, choosing to leave the subject.

“Or…?” he asks you, a little panicked. You hesitate, not wanting to give him any ideas. But it’s going to be just as awkward if you make him come downstairs with you right now.

"Or we'll have to arrange another way to get you home," you concede. "Look, just...fix yourself up. I'll work something out and come back for you. "

***********************************************

So this is the series of racy events that leads to you finding yourself in the back of a taxicab on the way back to the dorm from Hongdae, slightly the worse for the soju, with an endearingly tipsy Hong-Joong’s pretty head in your lap, using all your self-control to ignore the tantalizing effect of the incredibly illicit kisses that he is bestowing on your stockinged thighs whilst he’s meant to be ‘resting’.

“Joong, stop it! I’m warning you,” you chastise him for probably the twelfth time since you’ve clambered into this cab together. “I cannot believe you talked the staff into having me chaperone you for a night out on the town.” You don’t add that neither you nor they would have gone along with this if they’d had any idea whatsoever of his intentions. But lucky for him, you obviously weren’t going to tell on him and you gather the other boys had his back as well. Now however, you’re not entirely sure the scope for gossip won’t kill them.

Thank God, the taxi makes it back to the dorm before he can test you any further, and you jump out of the backseat to pay the driver, before helping Hong-Joong out and guiding him inside and up to his bedroom, where he spins around in a sort of pirouette before flinging himself onto his bed with a cute giggle.

“I look pretty today, don’t I, noona?” he checks with you, preening a little.

“Very pretty,” you assure him, careful to keep the tone of your voice neutral.

“No, you’re teasing me, noona~~” he whines. “Say it properly that I look pretty.” He shakes his head, making his long, silver earrings dance and jump.

“You look pretty, Hong-Joong-oppa~,” you tell him, with an aegyo flourish, before rolling your eyes teasingly at him and he laughs, loudly, with his hand in front of his mouth, then hits you playfully, in that adorable fashion he has. You give up on any pretence that he’s not dangerously close to getting his way, what with your guard being down and the soju still buzzing through you.

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” you ask him, wryly. His eyes go wide, unsure if he’s just understood you correctly.

“Mwo?” he chirrups.

“You heard me,” you purr, leaning forward to kiss him lingeringly. He responds immediately, arms coming around you to pull you against him and lips moving against yours eagerly, before you feel his tongue searching for yours. You kiss for a while, but when he lays down and pulls you over on top of him, you stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I think we need to stop now, before someone gets hurt.” You stand up reluctantly, and give him what you plan to be one last kiss, tugging at his bottom lip gently with your teeth, before you pull away. He clings to you, kissing your jawline and then your neck, but you extricate yourself and stand up, making his face fall and his pretty smile merge into a pout.

“Wae, noona~?” he sulks, cute.

“Did you honestly think your devious little plot would work?” you tease him. “Whatever happened to ‘I won’t ask anymore once I get one kiss,’ hmm? You’ve had way more than one kiss, Joong...it’s time to move on back to reality now,” you tell him, sadly, turning to go. He sighs his defeat, letting his shoulders sink and making you wish fervently that you could just hold him and make him feel all better. You honestly can’t think of a reason that one of the professionals the company can hire for him will make him feel any more of a man than you could right now. And just as you’re mulling it over, reluctant to take your final leave, he lets his gaze rake you from head to foot, winks provocatively, and then bites his lip with a little ‘c'mere’ tilt of his chin.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip?” you ask him, rhetorically. “‘Cause, you know what? If you did, then, fuck the rules. We’re having sex. Right now.” This time he manages not to give himself away completely, but his eyebrows go up and he swallows hard. He rearranges himself nervously on the bed as you check his door, making sure it’s locked. When you turn your attention back to Hong-Joong, you almost have second thoughts. He has arranged himself carefully, so that his shirt is open half-way to his waist, exposing most of his chest but artfully concealing his nipples, and he's leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him to give you the best possible view. His head is tilted, eyes lowered, and his slender neck looks impossibly delicate, wrapped in a black silk choker. He smiles bewitchingly and dares a look up through his lashes when you walk over to him and sit on the edge of his bed.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Hong-ssi?” you ask him softly.

“Yes!” he tells you firmly.

“Really?” you confirm. “Because you seem...maybe a little shy?” you try gently, putting your hand on his to try and help him relax.

“I have a little...little nervous,” he explains, bravely, in English, showing you with his fingers pinched together how ‘little’ the little bit of nervousness is.

“Oh - ginjanghaessoyo?” you check, in Korean. He nods quickly, blushing. You put your hand on his cheek and give him a light kiss. “Well, you don’t need to be. I promise I’ll look after you. And I’m sure you’ll do great for your first time. Still good?” Another nod. “Now, remember just tell me anytime if you want to stop, okay?” you instruct him. “I won’t be annoyed.”

“Okay,” he says with a bright smile.

“And you don’t need to be shy about making noise either, okay? If it feels good, you let me know and I will do the same. It makes it more fun,” you add, with a wink. He giggles, bites his lip and then nods again. “Now c’mere, you sexy little thing,” you tell him, hooking your arm around his waist to pull him closer, and kissing him lingeringly. He moans softly into your mouth and you reward him by deepening the kiss and letting your other hand stray inside his open shirt to play with one of his nipples. He gasps and then moans again, his lips still attached to yours and his tongue exploring your mouth with swiftly-growing passion. You keep kissing him, but press him back onto the bed properly, so that you can straddle his thighs.

“Where do you want me to kiss you next?” you ask him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, and pulling it open, so that you can stroke his naked chest.

“Odiena,” [everywhere] he begs, writhing impatiently under your touch and tossing his head on the pillows in an agony of anticipation. You laugh softly.

“I can’t kiss you everywhere at once,” you object. “Give me a clue...” You let one hand stray back to his nipples, making him arc his back, then you let your other hand deliberately brush the front of his pants, making him buck his hips up to press himself against your fingers.

“Seems like you’re having trouble deciding,” you tease him, letting your lower hand run the length of his still-clothed erection but bending your head towards his chest. You don’t let him get away with it that easily though, swerving at the last second to whisper into his ear:

“Why don’t you show me what you were doing in that booth upstairs this afternoon?”

“I...I wasn’t…” he stammers, blushing and nervously playing with his eyelashes.

“You were though, weren’t you?” you say. “That’s why you ran off when I kissed you. Do you have any idea how much catching you like that turned me on?”

“Oh jinjja?” he asks, surprised, but clearly flattered.

“Mmhm,” you assure him. “C’mon...let me see your jaji...I mean it feels pretty sexy,” you tell him, curling your fingers around the outline of it through his jeans. “Besides, do you honestly think I’ve been able to concentrate on anything all day while you’ve been teasing me while looking like a whole snack with this new hair?” you ask him, undoing his belt and jeans as you speak. He giggles, then self-consciously pushes his bangs back from his face and gives you another of his very pretty smiles but then hisses through his teeth and moans softly as you release his erection from his boxer-briefs and start to stroke him.

“But it’s you who tease me now, noona,” he complains, kissing you until you’re frantic for him. “You make fun by saying me all this things,” he elaborates, his breath getting more and more shallow as you speed up your strokes and his hips follow along by instinct, a thin trickle of precum leaking from his tip and making him groan helplessly.

“I’m not teasing you, babe,” you reassure him. “Every time you’ve caught my eye today, every time you’ve shown off these lovely assets of yours,” you stop caressing his cock to run your fingers longingly over his lips, then along his clavicle and then down over his hip, making him arc into your touch again… “I’ve wanted you more and more. But I’ve known that despite every inch of me aching for you, I’m not allowed to have you. You got teased by the others for saying you look pretty today? Well I think that you look not just pretty but also hot and very sexy. But I’m not supposed to tell you that. I’m not even supposed to think that,” you murmur, running your tongue over his bottom lip and eliciting a needy whine from deep in his throat. “But I don’t care anymore, Hong-Joong-ah...I want you so badly.” You kiss him again and he responds eagerly, but chastely, making you melt at his angelic sweetness.

After a moment, you reach for his cock again and start to pump your hand up and down it, but he flinches, so you pull back straight away, noting that his cheeks are aflame with blushes.

“Would you like to stop?” you check with him, keeping your voice soft and gentle.

“Ani, ani,” he stammers, waving his hand to show he just needs to catch his breath. “I just worry that I...will make a mess everywhere...too soon,” he attempts to explain.

“Oh! You’re worried you’re going to cum soon?” you check. He nods, embarrassed. “That’s okay, jagi…” you tell him. “We can slow down for a little while if you like?” He nods again, quickly this time, smiling at you sweetly when you deliberately use the term he had asked you for earlier. You let him fix himself up and then curl into your arms against the pillows with his head on your chest. You lay together quietly for a little while, kissing occasionally, as you play idly with his blueberry-bangs.

You’re just starting to count your blessings, thinking he’s actually drifting off to sleep after all and you can escape, leaving both his pride and his virginity intact, as his limbs start to feel heavier and his breathing slows towards sleeping pace. But then, just as you begin to gently disentangle yourself, he hooks your leg with his to stop you escaping, rolls over to press his hips against yours and then kisses you rather too passionately. You give in straight away this time, kissing him back with a ferocity to rival his own, and wrapping your legs up around his waist.

He pulls away a little, clearly unsure how to proceed, and kneels up between your legs to watch you, biting his lip again, but this time with a truly unconscious innocence of how sexy he looks. He tilts his head on the side, and then cautiously runs his hands up your sides, apparently not daring to do more. You smile at him and nod discreetly, but he just blushes again and clears his throat nervously.

“It’s okay, Hong-ssi,” you reassure him. “I won’t bite, and I’m not going to stop you anymore tonight. Just follow your instincts. You look like you maybe want to undress me?” you suggest. “Go on then, go ahead.” You smile again, trying to put him at ease, then raise your hand to his cheek and sit up to kiss him messily. You feel him smile and then his hands come up to peel the straps of your top off your shoulders and down your arms.

“Mmm…” you murmur against his lips, shifting to allow him to undo the front of your top, then wriggling a little to help him remove the whole thing, so that you’re kissing him in only your bra and skirt. “Mmff...keep going, jagiya,” you encourage him, lifting his hand back up to your bra straps. You let him struggle with your bra while you get to work on removing his shirt properly and undoing his jeans again. You know you could help him, but you kind of sense it’s better to let him make any mistakes that he’s going to make now, while he’s in a safe environment where he won’t be judged if he’s not perfect at everything. He makes a cute little frustrated noise as he tries to figure out the clasp, but then another pleased noise when he manages to get your bra off, but you pretend not to notice and just let him have his moment, sliding the garment off, then pulling you into his arms again, against his naked chest.

You kiss the tip of his nose, then tease his jeans carefully off his hips and down his thighs, letting him kick and yank them the rest of the way off until he’s kneeling on his bed in front of you, blushing but eager, in only his boxer briefs. You lean across and start to tease kisses from his knee, working your way up his thigh towards his thinly-veiled erection.

“Oh, jebal~,” he begs you, trying to move his leg so that you will come higher.

“Jebal? Mwo, jebal?” you murmur, wanting him to say it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kiss...kiss,” he breathes, still in a pleading voice.

“Kiss? I’m already kissing…” you tease him, tickling his skin with your tongue now, and allowing your lips to dance ever nearer to the bottom leg-line of his panties. He moans, much louder now, and you let your other hand dip into his waistband to just barely skim the silky head of his cock. His moans intensify and he slams his head inadvertently back against the headboard of his bed, startling you a little, but not as much as he startles himself. He winces then rubs the back of his head with his hand and gives you a slightly hurt look.

“Yah, noona~” he whines. “You know what I’m mean. I want you to please...put my...my [he gives up and opts for the Korean when he can’t think of the English] je jaji...into your mouth,” he explains in a pouting almost-aegyo tone. You kinda want to tease him a little longer, but frankly you can never resist him when he talks in pout, even when the stakes are this high. And, judging by his sparkling eyes, he knows it too.

Trying not to hurt him, you pull his boxer-briefs carefully away from his erection and lick his shaft from balls to tip like an icecream. He shudders and another long, low moan escapes his body as his hands clutch his bedsheets. You raise your head to take him in your mouth, gently moving one of his hands to place it on the back of your head and indicating he should let you know how fast he needs you to go. Arcing into you, he presses his hand against the back of your head, needing you to speed up, which you do, using your free hand to hold him steady and being careful to keep your teeth behind your lips. After an interval of his pretty moans and your jaw starting to feel it, his hips dance, and he swears under his breath, in Korean.

“Wait-stop-stop!” he yelps, trying to pull away, but it’s too late and his voice trembles into another prolonged groan as you taste his warm jizz flooding your tongue. “Oh, shibal, mianhamnida,” [fuck, sorry] he stammers, mortified. You ignore his sweet objections and lick him clean, then pull him down by your side and let him cuddle shyly into you with his face turned into the crook of your neck.

“Noona?” he asks, squeezing your waist with his arm.

“What is it, Joong?” you murmur sleepily, the soju finally settling in your veins.

“Please stay here with me?” he requests. You sigh, afraid to tell him.

“No, no - that’s too much, doll,” you try to cushion the blow with a finger under his chin and a soft kiss on his lips. “I have to go back to my room, now that the damage is done.”

“But you say...well...we are going to have sex,” he pouts.

“And we did, you little minx,” you tell him, but he is already shaking his head, cheeky.

“Ani. I still am...virgin,” he corrects you defiantly, pleased with himself for remembering the English word.

“You’re still? Wow...you’re really going to go for the literal definition, are you?,” you laugh quietly at his sass. “Well, you may find you need to recharge a little first,” you sigh, giving in. He veritably purrs at this update and you see a devilish grin slip across his lips, though he keeps his eyes tightly squeezed shut, making you marvel anew at his beautiful eyelashes, by this stage of the evening innocent of eyelash-curlers or mascara, yet still works of art in themselves.

You cuddle up together for another small interval, but this time you realize that you must have drifted off to sleep yourself, when you open your eyes to find the sun peeking over the horizon outside. You smile to yourself when you notice Hong-Joong slumbering sweetly, completely naked in your arms, but you’re not sure how to disentangle yourself without waking him again. You manage to edge yourself out of his embrace, get your top back on and locate your bra but when you turn to give him one last longing look, he is propped up on one arm, eyes blearily open and watching you resentfully. He opens his mouth to say something and you swiftly close the distance between the two of you, to put a finger to his lips.

“You trick me,” he whispers fiercely. You try not to laugh at his indignant tone.

“I didn't, sweetheart! I fell asleep, same as you,” you defend yourself.

“So we have sex now?” he asks you, yawning and covering his mouth politely. You shake your head at him with amused incredulity.

“We can’t now,” you tell him. “There’s no way people won’t find out. It’s morning.” He just shrugs and tries to pull your skirt off.

“I don’t care,” he informs you cheekily, switching to an attempt to remove your top when you intervene with his attempt to remove your skirt. “If we are...balli-balli...[quickly - if you go fast] then we not wake members,” he bargains.

“Okay, okay! My gosh, you’re persistent,” you marvel, drawing him into your arms and kissing him. He deepens the kiss, tugging at your lip with his teeth in the sweetest punishment as his hands work quickly to remove the rest of your clothes.

“Hey - where’s that shy boy from last night?” you tease him, but he just sticks his tongue out at you and taps your legs, making you spread them so that he can climb between them. He’s all masterful confidence until you feel his erection tickling the inside of your thighs and he pauses, on his hands and knees, looking at you nervously. You run your hands along his body and down onto his hips and pull him forward.

“Ah - there’s our shy boy! It’s okay, jagi,” you reassure him, wrapping your legs up around him and lifting your hips to meet him. He kisses you under the jawline, and lets his hands stray towards your chest, so you drop your hand down to guide his cock to rest against your already-wet folds, then give your hips a little thrust so that he slips in. He gasps and thrusts his own hips instinctively, then you grab them and pull him the rest of the way forward, simultaneously eliciting a jagged moan from his lips and sighing with relief yourself, as he slides right up inside you, making you call out his name. He moans your name back to you, then finally starts to rock his hips back and forward, his breath coming hotter and faster against your neck as his moans get louder and more urgent.

“Aigoh! Ai-ai-yuh...uh! Aiohhohh!” he vocalizes shamelessly as he gets more and more caught up in your lovemaking, until he appears to have forgotten his surroundings. You surrender to him completely, kissing and caressing every part of him that you can reach.

“Oh-uh...pokbalhaga naol got gatayo~” [I feel like I’m going to explode] he confesses as his hips start to reach jackhammer speed.

“Oh, jinjja?” you gasp. He moans in the affirmative into your neck. “Do it, jagi. Cum inside me!” you gasp. His hands force you to speed up to his pace and his lovely voice climbs high enough to definitely have caught the attention of the other members.

“Oh shib!” he groans, his lips parted and his eyes at half-mast in a perfect mask of sexual gratification. “Oh...oh ne...oh fuck...Do you think…” he pants out “they can...hear us?”

“Yes we can!” hollers WooYoung from behind the wall, his voice indicating that he’s been wanting to object since the beginning of this latest tryst. “Please stop already! We’re happy for you hyung but honestly, we’re trying to sleep too, you know?!” he elaborates. Shaking your head at WooYoung’s lack of tact, you grab Hong-Joong’s sexy, taut ass in your hands, kiss him fiercely on the lips and lift your hips to a higher angle, letting him penetrate you even further. His hips do a final dance and you feel him cum up inside you, before collapsing next to you on his back, chest heaving and one arm flung across his face, while the other pulls you close.

“Better?” you ask him, cuddling against his side.

“Mmm....ne...much better,” he affirms, sighing contentedly.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.” Yoongi’s knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.”

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.”

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement.

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits.

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it.

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body.

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap.

The walk through the reception was a nightmare.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad.

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.”

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him.

“Right!”

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit.

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?”

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times.

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you.

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do.

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back.

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips.

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.”

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what.

You had kept true to your word.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half. “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch.

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night.

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin.

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further, he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it.

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you.

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to.

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again.

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane.

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again.

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue.

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain.

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp.

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now.

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right.

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand.

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink.

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.”

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in.

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer.

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.”

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly.

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs.

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy.

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly.

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure.

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself.

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms.

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?”

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose.

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again.

“I know just don’t do it again.”

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

#kdiarynet #kpopscape #bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi drabbles #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

Text

NSFW with Chuck Grant

~ ~ ~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Charles Grant is a walking example of “acts like a badass, is actually a softie” bc BOY, IS HE HARD (lol) TO GET A READ ON.

When you first start fucking, he doesn’t really have the instinct to stick around after and soak up the afterglow- mostly bc that’s not the dynamic that any of his previous relationships operated under, but also bc he’s like Lieb and doesn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable and potentially having you reject him. He only confidently leaves the first time, and then he judges whether to stay or not on how you look at him as he makes to get dressed after the second time you boink. If you want your space, he’ll go and be back the next day as long as you let him, but if you look even a little bit offended or hurt, he’s getting his ass back in that bed and doing whatever he can to get that sad look out of your eyes.

When he does stay, he’s down to give you whatever he can manage.

He’s all for slowly kissing you while trailing his fingertips up and down your side, but if you just want to sleep beside him he is more than cool with it (he’ll probably still pet you a lil bit after you fall asleep bc he’s soft for you but shh shh shh don’t tell anyone). The only thing he isn’t very good at doing is pillow talk, especially right after sex. He’s too worried about saying the wrong thing and fucking up what he’s managed to establish with you.

It isn’t until after he’s shot that he realizes how nice it feels to have someone else take care of him, and when you do so after sex it solidifies the fact that you don’t see him as a burden- you want him and you want to stay. Thank god, too. He doesn’t think he could recover without you (again, not that he’d ever tell you that)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your AhhhhhhHSSSSssssSSSSSs!!!!!!

Oh wow, look at you- owner of the cutest butt he’s ever seen. Can he put his hands on it? Can he squeeze it? Please please puh-lease can you let him watch it jiggle as he fucks you? If you’ve answered yes to any of these questions, then you’ve made each and every single one of his dreams come true.

He doesn’t discriminate in his love for butts- he’s an equal-opportunity appreciator of the Majesty of the Female Ass™. If it changes size throughout your relationship, he’ll love it even more. Absolutely shameless.

On himself? He likes his legs- especially his thighs.

He likes how strong they are, despite how much he hates Sobel for getting them to their current strength re: Currahee. But he gets over it quickly bc oh wow is he happy with their endurance while trying to keep up with you, both sexually and otherwise. The day he realized you could ride yourself to orgasm on them was the day he died and went to heaven and was sent back to sin again.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cumming on your pubic mound and then watching it slide down your pussy, thank you very much. If you guys are trying for kids or in a position where you don’t have to worry about not having kids, he’ll cum inside of you happily but oh wow he likes watching it slide down your lower lips. BONUS POINTS if he gets to catch it on his thumb and either stick it in your mouth OR circle your clit with it in order to get you off one more time.

Also, you asking him where he wants to cum on you gets him hot under the proverbial collar.

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

He’d do literally anything for you if you’d let him put his finger in your ass. He will genuinely kill an individual of your choice if you let him put his cock there instead. What a perv (jk it takes a lot of vulnerability for some people to convey their wants and desires to their partners plz remember that this has been a PSA).

The one thing he’ll never actually tell you about... EVER is that for a little while after meeting you for the first time in Georgia, he started hooking up with a girl who he didn’t realize (until much later) bore a striking resemblance to you. He’d had to end the relationship when he straight-up called out your name when he came (he was a lil drunk, just tipsy enough to slip up) and full-on booked it out of there bc not only had he pissed the girl off, but his shout had woken up her family- namely her very angry father- and barely escaped with his life.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had two lovers before you, but one of them was really experienced and patient and bless that woman. All he really has to do is learn what you like and he’ll commit it to memory.

And you better be damn sure that he’ll use that knowledge against you/for his benefit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style for all the reasons mentioned before. Or reverse cowgirl. Or normal cowgirl. His hands + your butt= dream combo.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be goofy, but more than anything else he likes it when you’re goofy. Chuck can get a little too in his own head at times, which can lead to frustration/self-doubt- ESPECIALLY while recovering from his brain injury. You reminding him that sex is meant to be fun does him a huge favor, bc poor lamb will forget that every so often.

So please, nibble at his earlobe in that way that tickles him. Make a quip at the expense of one of your friends. Mock the silly sound of the moan you just let slip out.

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

He’s not going to groom unless you tell him to, but he also doesn’t feel like you need to groom for him, either. Chuck’s not afraid to admit how much his personal hygiene has improved since meeting you.

I can promise you that if you’re heavily invested in skin/hair care, he’ll probably be just as into building his own routine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You always have Chuck’s full and undivided attention during sex, but he won’t necessarily show it unless he gets the guy feeling/you tell him that you want him to be. He’s going to whisper sexy things into your ear, call you a good girl (if not his good girl), and do everything in his power (at the time, at least (he can get a little distracted if you’re doing something particularly sexy)) to make sure you feel just how appreciated you are. He gets more and more confident in his PDA as your relationship progresses, but when it’s just you two? You’ll never meet a bigger sweetheart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ok, so I’m deciding for you that mutual masturbation is a thing that you’re both into, m’kay?

I'm also making the executive decision that you really enjoy watching him get himself off. You walked in on him one time, before you’d had sex, and were so stunned that you just watched in rapt attention until awkwardly backing out of the room and slamming the door shut. He’d nearly cum right then and there, and it got you extremely aroused.

The next time you see each other, at some Georgia bar while on a pass, you offhandedly mention that you wish you hadn’t left and FROM THAT DAY ON he always lets you know when he’s feeling the urge and how you’re more than welcome to watch.

And when you do? It’s always a much shorter experience than he intends bc wow how hot are you?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Frottage! Dry Humping! Grinding!

Allow me to explain:

In the months following D-Day, it was quickly understood that being on the frontlines meant having traditional forms of sex were no longer on the table (hehe) for you two. You’d experimented with rucking your trousers down your thighs, his thighs, both of your thighs, and each time it was a disaster (with one of the worst times ending up falling onto Tab after he’d inadvertently opened a door that Chuck had been fucking you against. Chuck had nearly thrown fists when Tab refused to look aware from your bare ass.)

So yall started grinding- quickly finding out that the bunches of fabric separating your bodies not only led to new forms of stimulation, but it also meant that you both started to utilize dirty talk. There’s something about your trembling lips at his ear, your warm whispers of ‘so good’ and ‘is this really all you need, Chuck? Me, writhing on you like this? What does that say about you, you desperate boy??’

Boy’s bought a one-way ticket to Boner City, USA.

PLUS! What a way to keep warm during Bastogne? Everyone is so jealous that they don’t have a super foxy megahot babe like you to grind upon.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Hmm…..is saying anywhere a cop-out? Because he’s down for anywhere, he’ll follow your lead and rise to the occasion. Such a perv i s2g.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

♫ YOOOUUUUUUUU!!!!!! ♫

You have this one eyebrow quirk you do when you’re in the mood, and it just so happens to be similar to the brow raise you give someone trying to outsmart you (which is another turn on for him- you putting some overly-confident sonofabitch back in their place after allowing them to mansplain at you for a little bit. First boner he ever got (since meeting you, obviously) came after witnessing you telling Joe Liebgott to stfu in cutting German after he’d made some off-color comment about your ass.)

So, more often than not, he'll get a little turned on when you argue with people. Maybe even when you argue with him- who knows? not me. (i totally do, and he totally is)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any sort of pain play, on either of you.

After being in genuine agony for so long while recovering from all of the surgeries, the idea of seeking any more pain out just doesn’t make sense. Chuck also doesn’t want to see you in pain- even if you’re asking him to make you feel it. You’d both suffered through the pain of hunger, frostbite, insect bites, sunburn, and just war in general (all of which had emotionally taken a toll on him bc he felt completely helpless and hated that he couldn’t do anything to take your hurt away).

Sex and pain just doesn’t go together for him. Sorry not sorry

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having you go down on him, adores the way your eyes look up at him as if you’re challenging him to withstand your beautiful ministrations.

He also is a big fan of going down on you, but PLEASE PLEASE PUH-LEASE ride his face. Good lord.

He’s a sucker (teehee) for it- something about you using him like it’s all you keep him around for gets him hot. You also get this certain snarl on your lips when you are getting close that makes him lose his goddamn mind bc WOW YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE and HOLY SHIT YOU CHOSE HIM OF ALL PEOPLE? WOWOWOW.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’ll follow your lead/body language in terms of pace. Most sex sessions shift between both slow and deep as well as fast and hard anyway, so he is a fan of both.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

A necessary evil, as far as Chuck is concerned. He’ll do them, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the spontaneity of them, but he would prefer not to be rushed when he’s with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He was riskier until that one time Tab caught you guys, after which he chilled out. Which you are thankful for, bc you’ve spoken with Lieb’s wife and BOY have those two gotten into some embarrassing situations bc of how risky that kid is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The longest he's gone is 4 rounds (it was celebratory sex on VE day, with both of you in the best shape you'd ever been in and too high on relief to listen to your bodies. Ya'll were sore and dehydrated afterward but LORD was it worth it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’d be very open to the idea of toys! On you, he’s automatically cool with it, but it does take him a little bit to get his head around the idea of using toys himself. Again, 40s/50s= somewhat repressed discussion about deviations from the traditional male sexuality- but Chuck is more willing and ready to challenge the societal norms than most. Very sexy of him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He always intends to tease you, but more often than not he gets so turned on that he can’t follow that intention through. You are aware of this and ABSOLUTELY weaponize this knowledge. Get it, fam.

During day-to-day conversation, however, you both tease each other constantly. It’s been like that since you’ve met each other- always making innuendos and one-upping the other and for some reason that never even went away.

When Chuck woke up and the doctors brought you in to see him, the first thing he told you was that you looked terrible. When you’d replied with a sniff, a smile and a “guess the doc’s were full of shit when they said there was no change in your vision, huh?”- Chuck had smiled so hard it hurt.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a choked moan kind of guy. His face gets all scrunched up and his body shakes and he curses quietly under his breath (it’s vv cute and hot, FYI). he doesn’t even try and be quiet on purpose, he just seems to lose the ability to be vocal, tbh. If he’s drinking or if it’s been a hot minute since yall have gotten to do the do, he’ll probably be a bit louder. Like, maybe one loud cry of your name (see: the letter D)

It doesn’t bother him if you make sounds at all, just so you know. If anything, he likes that he’s a quiet cummer bc then he can hear any and all of your sounds.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

biting your ass while eating you out from behind is *bang* *bang* *bang* *click* *cash register noise*.

Especially if you squeal and smack at him after he does it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average in all respects but OH MAN does he know how to work it to his advantage. Get ready for a wild ride, my dude.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher post-war, tbh. Chuck had had to be on bed rest for so long that he thought he may never get the chance to have sex again, so he totally makes a point to indulge in you every chance that he can get (but he’s cool if you say no, too).

But, as I mentioned in ‘risk’, he’s not going to be humping your leg in public or anything (ok but imagine if you were a dom to his sub and you made him do that holy fuck)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He does not sleep very well, poor bb. He will be asleep but his mind will be working through all kinds of things ranging from PTSD to what shoes he wanted to wear to dinner with your parents that weekend. Good thing there’s a remedy to this ailment- your pussy sex with you!

While he can’t konk out immediately, he is able to relax. He will allow himself to get lost in the rhythm of your breathing, the weight of your hand on his arm or your arm wrapped around his middle. He will sometimes nuzzle into you as you’re drifting off to sleep, and when you press a kiss to his forehead he finally feels safe.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando @televisionboy @now-im-a-belieber @tvserie-s-world @holdingforgeneralhugs @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #chuck grant x reader #problematicfavesareproblematic

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wenwenbittercake · 3 years

Text

Inuin and Y/N

(This is a normal AU where Inuin and KoKo are your best friend and Inuin have a crush on you but you like KoKo-nut more. He’s stuck between wanting to break their friendship and want to kiss you senselessly.)

Warnings:yandere contents, swearing, spicy🌶🌶

(Sorry for late posts, I just got really depressed after my recent submission got 4 likes 😫😫😫Sorry if I haven’t written your submission because it’s probably not finished yet or It’s too uncomfortable for me to write. With that, enjoy.)

“Hey Inui!”

Someone hug Inui from behind making him snap out of his daydream. He turn around from his chair to see a familiar face that create a tint of blush on his cheeks.

“Y/N why are you here this early?”

“Early? Look around you dumb ass.” KoKo said as he comes into the class.

Inui lazily look around him to see the class empty. He must had fallen asleep.

“Oh.”

“Wht do you mean “Oh”? Pack your stuff or we’re leaving you behind!”

“KoKo don’t be so harsh on Inui, he’s just tired from his part time job.”

KoKo got a frond on his face when you defend Inui. Inui on the other hand blushes while putting his things in his back.

“Oh yea? For a person who sleeps around in class of cause he’s going to work in that shabby motorcycle shop.”

“Hey.” You warn Koko. Both of you look each other and inspect Inui’s face.

Inui is used to the constant slanders and being beaten around by Koko, It’s not that he’s a bully, he’s just like that. He would apologies later about it but what he said is true. Koko is a smart kid who get all A’s in his class. He’s the brightest kid in their little friend group. So, the brightest flower catches the most beautiful butterflies, and that butterfly is you.

For the first time in his life, he craves for someone and that someone is you. He misses you 24/7. Always wanting to see your face, hear your voice and feel your touch. He even goes as far as going to your house one night after work to see you. But unfortunately, you were asleep. It doesn’t matter much when he climbs to your window to see you sleeping so soundly.

You can call him a psychopath but he’s just making sure your save by hacking into your phone and looking through all your social info and private messages.

You can call him a creep for following you around at night making sure no wolfs can catch a cute bunny like you.

You can call him a sociopath for lying to you as he only sees you as a friend when he craves to feel more of you then your hands.

He doesn’t care what you call him, he’s doing all this to keep you save form the dangerous people out there or to feed his desires.

Now you both are in a hotpot restaurant. Koko apologies to Inui by treating hotpot and BBK to both of you. All of you talk about school life, how hard to weekly test was or gossip about that one kid in class that reminds the teacher about the homework. Noting goes into Inui mind as he’s too focus on you and Koko interactions.

Koko is talking about these facts he knows of, and you listen to him with wide eyes. Then he whispers something in your ears making you blush. Inui clench his jaw seeing that. Koko looks proud that he’s getting all your attention to himself. On the other hand, Inui watch Koko and you with a sad look with a dash of jealousy.

“Oh, look who’s jealous.” All the spotlight is now on Inui making him slightly uncomfortable.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“Oh, we all know you’re the jelly one here.” He teases as you switch your seat near him.

You close your space between you and Inui, your face so close to his, a slight movement from him can make him go for a kiss. Your eyes half lid and tease him as you trace his collar with your slender fingers. Not touching him but so close to. Inui’s breath become heavy, his head even feel cloudy to the situation, both of you look at each other’s eyes with lust.

“Tell me baby.”

He just wants to push his head forward and give a deep long kiss, but Koko’s clap snaps him out of hid fantasies. You giggle and hop off Inui’s lap and go sit beside Koko.

“Koko did you see that?”

“Yes, you did a great job.” He said as he places his arms around your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Inui looks confused.

“It’s a prank! Got you!” You shout and laugh with Koko. In that moment Inui felt both embarrassed and mad. It’s definitely not your idea. Your inexperience ass would never. It gotta be Koko’s.

“You guys are dicks.” He said as he stood up a leave.

“Inui wait- “you were about to stop him when Koko pull you back in his arms.

“Leave it, he’s fine. He’s just a little embarrassed.”

That Bitch

That night Inui can’t get you out of his head. He can’t when you look so cute and sexy when you did that half lid move. The way you touch him felt so different from how you use to touch him. So soft and teasing. He tries to memorize it, but it slowly fades away. He can only remember how hot and lustful it felt. How he got hard just by your voice. He needs it again.

“Inui, I’m going to ask Y/N out.” Inui nearly chokes on his lunch.

“Wait what?”

“Yea I’m gonna ask her out.”

“Wait wait where? When.”

“Tonight, at the playground we use to go at.”

“Wait isn’t it too fast?”

“Wdym it’s fast? Look I realize my feelings for her are real and I just need to let it out. I just want you to know that.”

Inui looks shock as Koko left from the cafeteria. No way this is happening. His best friend with the girl he loves the most. He tries to think positive. Maybe it’s the best for you. Koko is perfect for you, he’s smart, he’s rich, he can fulfil everything you need. He can make you happy. But seeing you with Koko make his heart aches. The thought of how Koko can make you feel complete tortures him every bit.

The rain was pouring like there no tmr. He looks at his clock, 7:30 pm. Koko is going to ask you out at 8 and he’s here sweeping floors. What a fucking loser, he thought of himself. He looks through his phone to pass time and see your message.

Koko told me to wait at the playground we use to play. Idk why but I feel like something serious is going to happen.

I want you to come by that’s all.

It’s fine if you’re busy.

What is he doing here? Y/N needs him. He’s supposed to do whatever you desire right?

He rash out of the shop, even Drakun was shocks at the speed. He run desperately like a predator meets his prey. This is his only chance to feel honest with you. After Koko ask you out, it would be too late. You will be Koko’s. The thought of it filled him with agony.

He stops in front of the playground; his eyes scatter the play. There he finds you standing there with a yellow umbrella. He knows it your cause he bought that umbrella for you.

“Inui? What are you doing here? Omg your soaked.”

He stands in front of you, his eyes fill with desires. He feels like burning. The only thing that’s keeping him cool is the rain. He felt happy when he realizes Koko is nowhere to be found.

“Inui?” You look up to him with wide eyes.

Fuck Y/N

He pulls you in his arm and kiss you. It feels so longing. You yelp in shock giving him a chance to enter his tongue in your mouth. You panic causing your umbrella to drop. He let out all his needs, his urges with action. His fantasies are becoming a reality. Your taste, your touch, the way you whimper in his hold. It all feels so good, he’s starting to feel feverish.

The rain pours all over both of you. It feels like you’re in a movie. Actually, you’re not sure if you like Koko or Inui. You’ve spent so much time with them yet, you still don’t have a sure answer when it comes to both of them but now. You’re sure now.

You both parted from your feverish kiss, you look at each other eyes. You look at him with wide eyes, your lips swollen. You hold on Inui’s shirt, trying to not fall from your shaking knees.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just can’t take it anymore.”

“I-it’s actually fine. I kinda like you so..’’

“Wait are you serious?”

“Of cause I’m serious! What you don’t wanna take responsibility now?”

“No, it’s just- “

“Shut up and just hug me.” You hide your embarrassed face in Inui’s chest. He chuckles at your action and wrap his arms around you tightly.

“Let’s go home.”

From a far, a man with a chain earring stood silently behind trees as both love birds left. He grips his umbrella tight as he glares at Inui. The envy he’s feeling is strong enough to kill a man.

“That Bitch”

(Thank you for reading my fanfic. Also sorry if I made a mistake or it's not that good. This is my first time writing a yandere character so forgive me. 🙏🙏🙏also i'm sorry I don't put the artist name for the headline. I don't know the artist who draw it that's why. If you know, ur more than welcome to tell me. Thank you ❤🌹🙏🙏)

#inui x y/n #inui seishu #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo rev x reader #inui x reader #tokyo rev #kokonoi x reader #tokyo revengers kokonoi #hajime kokonoi #smut #inui smut #mikey tokyo revengers

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jennana501 · 4 years

Text

A Case for Rexsoka

I’ve been around the block when it comes to ships. I’ve seen people obsess over them, and I too have been driven mad by obsession. I was a hardcore original avatar fan and I was OBSESSED with shipping Toph and Sokka together. Any time they so much as made an interaction I over analyzed it and picked it apart looking for clues that somehow would prove that my hunches were correct. It was because I related with both characters, and I loved their chemistry. I wanted them to have a romantic relationship because it would feel like some sort of personal validation.

I’m an adult now and nothing has changed. But it has been a while since I’ve desperately shipped two characters together that are not obviously romantically involved with one another, or who could be romantic behind the scenes or beyond the story shown.

Until Rex and Ahsoka.

And I’ve seen people be adamantly against it.

“No no no it’s just a brother/sister relationship.”

“No it’s gross she is a child”.

And of course being disagreed with on the internet can drive a person crazy, and instead of individually arguing with dozens of people online, I’m making this post once and for all to explain why I think Rex and Ahsoka have romantic feelings for each other. Especially Rex.

The argument I’ve seen, that their deep passion, commitment, love, admiration, and respect for one another (which are all so obvious you’d have to be...silly to not see it) are felt in a platonic fashion. Which, for the first 6 seasons and 8 episodes, I would totally agree.

But then Ahsoka comes back. And let’s face it. She is a woman. Age wise, she’s around 17, but everything from the maturity of her Lekku (which weirdly don’t get all that longer, especially compared to other Tagrutan women) to her poise and confidence, to her prowess as a warrior, a user of the force, and her ability to command soldiers as well as control her emotions points to her being an adult woman. She’s no Snips anymore; she’s no child. She’s grown up. And how her peers react to her illustrates how they now view her as an adult.

First there is Obi-wan. Obi-wan has always been a mentor to her, a sort of second Master. Obi-wan never hesitated to guide and Ahsoka or offer his council. He is proud of her when she succeeds, and will admonish her when she makes mistakes. When she returns and he sees her as a woman, he changes the way he treats her. He acknowledges her maturity by addressing her as an equal. He doesn’t admonish her. Instead he discusses with her, challenging her ideas and letting her offer an argument for them instead of putting them down and telling her how she should think or act. He also comes to her in his time of need, trusting her to help him with Anakin.

Then there is Anakin. We all know of Anisoka shippers, and they are perfectly able to ship and enjoy said ship, but we can all acknowledge that it is a crack pairing with no basis in the canon. Anakin portrays the perfect kind of brotherly love. He is excited to see Ahsoka, and is stunned by her unexpected reappearance. Things are harder for Anakin because he is used to their fun banter and sibling-like companionship. He’s constantly shut down with her business like manner and he struggles with coming to terms with the fact that she isn’t a little kid sister anymore. She is an adult with a mission and a plan. When he looks at her, he is endearing. He loves her. Admires her. And he can’t wait to pick up where they left off. There’s joy and adoration in his face. He is proud of her and what she has become, but he also feels alienated and even hurt because of how her adulthood has changed their dynamic.

Then there is Rex. When he first sees her, he wants nothing more than to reassure her that she still belongs. The clones had accepted her into their family. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. When he looks at her for the first time, he’s beaming with the same adoration as he had had for her before, but also with a solemn awe at what she has become and what she has grown into. He welcomes her back into his life without hesitation.

But then there is a moment things shift so drastically that I paused the show and re-watched it half a dozen times. We all know it and love it. This face he gives Ahsoka. The Look.

What we see here is something we have never, EVER seen in Rex for 7 whole seasons. And it is my opinion that this is the first time Rex has been able to feel and express that he is attracted to Ahsoka. In other words, Rex has a sexual awakening.

Up until this point, Rex has been a sexless character. Nothing he does is flirtatious, sexy, or at all suggestive that he has those feelings inside him at all. Every sexual being has a moment where they are first animalistically drawn to another being. Characters who have already had this moment are easy to pick out. Obi wan. Anakin. Ventress. These characters have already experienced their sexual awakening. Ahsoka has too. Lux was her first object of attraction.

But Rex has never had this moment. Until this reaction.

I know some of you might be thinking “but Ahsoka gives a very similar look to Anakin, does that mean she is sexually attracted to HIM?” It’s a very good point. Ahsoka and Anakin share some cheeky playful looks during “Old Friends Not Forgotten”. We see many characters give similar looks to other characters, but does this mean it means the same thing as when Rex does it? The short answer is no.

When animators design a character, they establish the “range of emotion” for that character. You can easily see this when you look back at how many times you see Rex break from his stoic, captain’s face. He rarely laughs, smiles, or emotes in any way. This is why when we see him emote it is exciting to us as an audience. A character like Ahsoka or Anakin commonly show a wide variety of expressions. Ahsoka is much more likely to give a cheeky look than Rex is. So “the look” for Rex, means a lot more when he is doing than it does when another character does it, say Fives or even Obi-Wan.

Which means the writers are trying to tell us something about this moment.

This moment has changed Rex’s and Ahsoka’s relationship.

Now does this mean that they are going to go bang each other immediately? Does this mean the second they are alone after “Victory and Death” they start an intense, sexual relationship? Of course not. That’s not what this ship is about at this time. But the reason many of us ship it is because suddenly they don’t feel like brother and sister anymore. It isn’t entirely platonic. And the show does a good job to further emphasize this as they come closer and closer both emotionally, and physically during the finale.

Blocking is a huge factor in visual storytelling. During the finale, Rex and Ahsoka are blocked in a way that makes them as close as physically possible on the screen. This communicates to the audience that they are closer now than they have ever been. As Jedi and Clone Trooper. As friends, and as companions, their bond forged in the fires of war, struggling to find meaning in life as soldiers.

In contrast, look how Ahsoka and Anakin are blocked in their scenes. There is nearly always a gap between them, illustrating that they are distanced from each other emotionally. Rex is even visually inserted into the gap between them in several instances. Anakin and Ahsoka are growing apart, but she and Rex are growing closer.

We get to experience Rex and Ahsoka engaging in actions and conversations that we had rarely seen before. From casual banter, to moments of intense intimacy, to emotional peaks, Rex and Ahsoka interact more in these four episodes than in the previous six seasons. Part of this is because their maturity gap has closed. Ahsoka is finally Rex’s equal in experience and maturity. It is also in part because it is a unique dynamic. No Obi-wan. No Anakin. Rex and Ahsoka are equal leaders of the 332nd. There’s also the fact that they are put into life threatening situations and have no one else but each other.

But there is that “look” that is given at the beginning of all this that suggests something else, that as their bond undoubtedly becomes strong as beskar, there is an element of it that takes their relationship from the platonic to the romantic.

I feel every detail, moment, and piece of dialogue in the finale tells the story of this bond.

Many instances of their strong emotional bond have been spread throughout the internet, with most ready to acknowledge that they have a connection unlike any other, one that may even be described as a “force” connection. These last four episodes are so exciting because we see two friends reunited, but then we get to watch as their relationship transforms.

Even disregarding their implied attraction to each other physically, they dive into each other and hold on tight. Ahsoka shares deep personal worries with Rex, and Rex and her are shown opening up to each other in ways they have never opened up before.

We were all floored and dumbfounded at scenes such as these that show these characters at their most vulnerable. But they decide to be vulnerable together. Is it because they are all that is left of their 501st family? It part, this is definitely true. But by being this vulnerable they transform their relationship into something very different from what they had before. It will never be the same again, and it will be near impossible to back out of the emotional intimacy that these two have participated in. Once you have formed that kind of an attachment with someone, there is no going back, and as is seen in rebels, these two maintain that strong connection even after years of being apart.

This goes beyond their sexual desires or needs. They’ve forged a bond that cannot be broken. They have shared minds, shared pain and agony that only the other can understand. They’ve been isolated from the world, and all they have left is each other.

And at the end of the series, when we have Rex and Ahsoka broken, their world flip upside down and everything they ever valued or cared about lies in ruins before them, the idea that they still have each other is that beautiful seed of hope Star Wars is so good at preserving. Those of us who believe that their relationship could be romantic want good things for Rex and Ahsoka. We want them to have that love and share it with each other. Maybe only for a few moments, but having known it would be better than both of them living and dying without having that experience.

When we see the two in Rebels, for me it confirms that these two love each other deeply. But their lives can never be lived in a normal fashion. They cannot even be together as partners in life. The Empire has stolen this from them. The tragedy of this ship is that it can never be the way we want it to be. Rex will age and die long before Ahsoka is even halfway through her own life. They cannot live with one another. They cannot wake each morning with each other, at least not at the point we see them in rebels.

But they continue to love each other. Even over distance, even knowing that mortality will claim them with only a fraction of the memories that they deserve with one another.

So please, the next time you see some art or a fic, or a post like this, think of what I had to say. Rexsoka is about two adults, their lives destroyed at the hands of Sidious, but in defiance they still forge a bond that he could never break or take from them. And that to me is beautiful and something to celebrate.

Side note: I spent a ton of time making gifs but they never would work and so I had to use screenshots instead :(

EDIT: At the request of the OG poster of a few gifs, I have replaced them have also made some grammatical changes.

#ahsoka #captain rex #rexsoka #rexsoka week #the clone wars #star wars

1K notes · View notes

severelytalentless · 3 years

Text

History Part 1

Jealous!Gojo x F!Reader x BadBoy!Getou

I got tangled up with this yarn ball of a love triangle for a hot second. It's long and a little angsty, I'm not completely sure I like it.

But here it is. Hope it hits well.

18+ content: sexual scenarios & strong language, exhibitionism, dubcon, public fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, angst

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

(don't leave - (throttle remix) snakehips x MO)

"Oh shit, I'm so late.."

The sound of your alarm clock melded with your dream and failed to wake you up. Instant panic jolts through you when you see the time, you rush to fling yourself out of bed.

“FUCK!”

You yelp as a strong arm wraps around your waist, yanking you back. You collapse on top of him and proceed to smack and pry at his forearm to let you go. His mischievous giggle under the covers only makes you more frustrated.

“I swear to God! Satoru! Let me go, I am so late!”

He squeezes harder and begins dragging you under.

“Late for what? Makin’ me breakfast in bed? Oh bunny, you're so thoughtful!”

You try to hide your giggle with an aggravated groan and an elbow thrown somewhere near his ribs.

“You're such a shit! I'm serious let me go, NOW!”

You don't have time for this. It's like he's been on a mission to make you late in one way or another to every class these days. Trapping you in bed all morning, kidnapping you for lunch, holding you hostage between classes, keeping you up way too late for extracurricular activities. You really can't complain, you have so much fun with him, but your grades are starting to catch up with you.

He'll try to convince you it's no big deal; that slacking off is what seniors are meant to do. But it's all gotten really stressful. Especially the History test you've spent zero time studying for. It's all fun and games until you have to answer for late assignments and failing marks.

You tumble off the bed as he groans in dramatic agony and releases you. You flail around the room collecting your things and dressing all at once.

“You're no fun..who needs History anyway? The past is boring, you should be living in the present..with me..in this bed..” you roll your eyes at his wiggling brows and his attempt at a sexy pose. In all honesty, it's not a bad attempt. His messy bed head and half-covered naked body are very easy on the eyes. But damn it, if you miss one more class because of this handsome fucker, your GPA is completely screwed.

“Toru, I have to go to class...where are my glasses?”

You button your shirt and pull your hair into the best bun you can. He sighs and points to your dresser. You snatch them and run for the door, hopping as you pull your shoes on.

“Call me when you're done being teacher's pet.” You shake your head and squint at him as he winks and blows you a kiss. You rush out the door leaving him to flop down on your bed alone. He frowns at the ceiling.

Why do you have to be so perfect and responsible? Why do you have to take such early classes? Why can't he have you all to himself? And when the hell did he get so tightly wrapped around your finger like this?

Something changed at the party. After he saw the effect Suguru had on you. He's felt this need to keep you closer. To somehow win you over. If he just stays present in your life. Maybe you'll want to stay a little longer. Maybe you won't choose him instead...

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

(you get me so high - the neighbourhood)

The bell rings as you're halfway up the stairs. Shit, you hate walking into class late. Especially since it's become your new habit. You get so flustered when everyone turns to look. You straighten your outfit and fuss with your hair before opening the door.

All eyes are on you. Deep breath. You quickly scan for an open seat and try to look casual. Fuck. Usually, there are a few to choose from but since the test is next week all seats are taken, except for one. And it's in the back...next to him.

You try not to make eye contact but it's unavoidable. He's already looking at you with a smirk and pats the seat before you take it. You quickly pull out your notes and get down to business, pretending he doesn't exist. He snaps his gum and leans on the table, turning his head to obviously look at your averted gaze.

“Do you mind?” you whisper sharply, jotting down a note.

“Not at all, I like the view..” he snaps his gum again. You huff and keep writing. He leans over, looking down at your notebook. You look up and furrow your brows at him. He raises an eyebrow and your cheeks flush immediately, mind flashing back to what he did the last time you scowled at him. How firmly he yanked on that leash...

His grin pulls wider and you turn away quickly.

“Please..I really need to focu-”

“You missed a button..” he slips his finger between where your shirt is parted and your hand flies up to stop him, tossing your pen in the process. He hums as he reaches down to retrieve it. You rush to secure your shirt closed and huff a sigh. You really really need to focus.

He taps your pen on your notebook and mutters in your ear.

“You really shouldn't let him keep you up so late. You're gonna fail the test..” he drops the pen and looks forward to the lecture. You snatch it back.

He's not wrong. He leans sideways to your ear again.

“But we both know you can't get enough, can you..” his words bring the vivid image of his heavy cock laying hard on his abs to the front of your mind and you shift in your seat to try and ignore the sudden throb in your core.

Fuck. This is exactly why you've been avoiding him since the party.

Gojo is enough of a distraction for you. Throwing Getou into the mix would be completely disastrous.

Yet...

You can't deny what the thought of him does to your insides.

You had always been into the dark intellectual guys before Gojo fucked his way into your heart.

But Gojo had been adamant that he didn't want anything serious between you from the start of your fling.

So perhaps getting to know Getou a little more wouldn't be-

Holy Fuck.

His hand is on your thigh...

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

(champagne & sunshine - PLVTINUM)

You stifle a gasp, train of thought being forcefully derailed by his touch. Your heartbeat pulses in your cheeks at the intrusion, and it only gets worse as he starts to tease the hem of your skirt up your leg.

Panic sets in and freezes you to your seat, eyes darting around faster than your racing heart, just waiting for someone to take notice. But all you see are the backs of heads, and your professor is busy writing on the board. You're fairly secluded in the back of the room, the tables are all two seated. He's got you right where he wants you. He keeps his eyes forward and whispers to you.

“Shh..settle sweetheart..don't fuss...they'll know..” you clutch the top of your notebook, keeping your heavy breaths as quiet as you possibly can while he feels his way to the heat beneath your skirt. He leans his elbow on the desk and rests his chin in his palm, examining the fluster in your eyes. He hums and rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit. Your teeth dig into your lip to trap a whimper.

“You’d better pay attention..I bet this’ll be on the test..” an evil smirk crawls across his face. He watches your brows furrow, desperate eyes begging him to stop. He shakes his head and rubs in on your clit. Pleasure spurs your core, helping to release your jaw and the hot breath that follows. You drop your head to suppress your arousal. It doesn't work.

“Open your legs..” his gentle voice is laced with some kind of poison, something that just makes you weak. You hum a little moan and stare at your notebook, shaking your head as subtly as possible.

“Suguru...please..” your whispered plea is met with a low chuckle, his fingers push in harder, you whimper.

“Spread. Your. Legs.” he growls through his teeth, the pressure is just too much, you exhale and slowly widen your knees under the table. Your cheeks are so hot you must be glowing at this point. He can feel your slick wetting your panties.

“Good girl. Now. Keep taking notes..” he smiles and nods to the lecture as his fingers pull aside your panties and gently touch on the soft skin beneath. He taps your pen on your notebook and raises an eyebrow.

“Fuck..” it's so hard to keep your composure, or your legs spread like this. How does he expect you to take fucking notes?!

“Oh, don't worry, I'm gonna fuck you later..but right now you need to focus..” the words make your walls clench and you hide your moan with a little cough. He lays your pen into your hand and helps you position it on the paper, all the while teasing his fingers around in your slick, just playing with your arousal.

This is all just a fun little game for Getou. Watching you struggle to contain yourself is really turning him on. Even more so since you could get caught. You've been playing so hard to get since the party. But the cat is out of the bag, he knows there's a kinky little freak underneath this teacher's pet facade you've got on. He saw the lust on your face when he and Gojo fucked you raw, relished how you sank to your knees and swallowed his cock. You're a good obedient slut and he intends to treat you as such, regardless of how Gojo feels about it.

You manage to spell out a few words before he starts rolling your exposed clit around under his finger.

"Oh my god!" The hushed moan comes out a bit louder than you thought it would. You grip the pen while your other hand flies over your mouth. You lean on the table and try to hold still, but your flinching hips give you away. You hear your professor stop talking and clear his throat.

"Excuse me, Ms. L/N, is there a problem?"

Fuck fuck fuck...his fingers are pressing harder.

Adrenaline mainlines through your system and your stomach twists up into a sickening knot. You smack the table and look up in a panic. Getou gives your poor clit no relief as you force out a response.

"NO! No..I'm..fine..just need to go to-unh-the restroom..please.."

You squeeze your knees back together just as everyone turns to look at you. He finally removes himself from between your legs, leaning back in his seat, smiling while he watches you quickly stand and flatten your skirt back down. You hurry down the aisle past the curious faces of your classmates, escaping into the hallway.

You fall back against the door and pant. You've never been so flustered. You take a deep breath and walk to the bathroom where you splash some water on your face and look hard at yourself in the mirror.

What the fuck was he doing? Why were you letting him do it? What the fuck has gotten into you?!

Who are you fucking kidding?

You liked it.

For all your protesting and fear of being caught, that made you so fucking wet, made you feel dangerous and naughty. You reach down and smirk, feeling how damp you are, rolling your eyes at yourself. Damn it, he's so bad.

You walk back into the classroom and try to ignore the prying eyes that follow you to your seat. You stare him down as you approach. That smirk pulls onto his mouth again and he pulls out your seat. You huff a breath and get back to your notes.

"That was close, huh?" he whispers after a few minutes. You keep your eyes on your notebook, surprising him with your little smile. He knew you fucking liked it.

You both sit through the remainder of class, sexual tension bristling between you, thick up to your necks. You look up at the clock, the bell is about to ring. You have a free period before your next class. You place your finger on his notebook and drag it away from him. He tilts his head and gives you an amused curious look as you jot something down. The bell announces the end of class and chairs begin to scrap on the floor, books rustling into backpacks. You slide it back to him and stand up quickly with your notebook in hand. He watches you saunter down the aisle and out the door without another glance his way. He huffs a laugh and looks down at what you wrote.

west wing hall closet. right now.

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

(over - honors)

“Does Satoru know how bad you want me?” he growls the question into your neck. His hand catches your throat, and he thumps you back against the door. You bite into your grin, shaking your head.

"You're so fucking naughty.." he squeezes a little harder, he leans into you, licking up your neck. Your head falls back and you giggle.

"He doesn't need to know." you hear him groan and he bucks his hips against you, his other hand tugs your skirt up. You help him by hooking your fingers into your panties, pulling them down, smile still plastered on your blushing face. He lets go of your throat.

"That's my girl.." the purr in his low voice tickles your throbbing core, you moan and run your fingers up into his hair while he kisses down to your collarbone. He quickly undoes his belt and you land a kiss on his neck, sucking and biting down a little, making him grumble as his buckle hit the floor.

Suddenly, you hear your phone ring in your bag on the floor. You pull your mouth off him and realize immediately who's calling. So does he.

"Answer it.." he smirks, stepping back and nodding down at the bag. You drop and pull it out. You hesitate, settling your breath before opening the call.

"Hi Toru," Getou palms his bulging erection. You try to keep your voice calm and natural, but you're immediately distracted by the heavy cock that falls from his briefs before you.

"Hey bunny, are you done with class?" Getou strokes it, staring at your reaction.

"Uh..yep, all done.." his cock is so hard and swollen, precum is already leaking from the tip. Your walls tighten inside and you absent-mindedly lick your lips.

"Come meet me at the cafe, I owe you coffee after keeping you up so late..” you can hear the playful smile in his voice as Getou starts to close the distance between you. He grabs your leg and lifts it up to his hip. You grip his shoulder to steady yourself. You feel the tip of his cock prod at your slippery entrance and gasp.

“...hello? Y/N, what's wrong?” Getou’s grin widens, hearing Gojo’s voice through the phone. He pauses to let you come up with a reply.

“Nothing, I just..left something in the classroom, I'll meet you for coffee in-” your knees go weak as Getou cuts you off by driving his cock up inside you with no warning. Your head thumps back into the door and you cuss at him silently, shuddering as your unprepared cunt struggles to adjust to his abrupt entrance. He just grins and leans his hips into you harder, pinning you to the door with his cock.

“Hey I think you're breaking up..when will you be here?” you're too focused on the sweet stretch to answer and Getou plucks the phone from your hand.

“She’ll be there when I'm done with her..”

Your heart drops to the floor, your phone quickly follows. The look on his face is far too satisfied. He pulls back and ruts into you, punching your cervix and rattling the door, you let out a helpless mewl. Guilt and anger curdle with the arousal inside you and make you feel sick.

“What the fuck Sugu-oh!” he fucks into you harder, not giving you permission to admonish him.

“Shut the fuck up...don’t act like you don't want this...you fucking asked for it.” the door shakes on its hinges as he rails up into you, fucking you off the floor. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist and claw at his shoulders as you sink down around him.

You wanna be mad, wanna tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. That was totally uncalled for. But the way he's plunging into you, fucking you absolutely senseless has you exchanging all your protests for moans. Everything about this is wrong, you just don't have the will to stop it. You feel your gears shift up closer to your orgasm and groan as he pummels you against the door.

“You like being a bad girl..It's written all over your fucking face..” he takes a mental picture of how the stain on your cheeks compliments your gaping drooling mouth and rolling eyes. He feels your cunt squeeze his cock, willing him to give you more.

“Admit it, you're bored of his dick, he can't stretch you like this..” he throws his weight into you forcing you to squeal and nod, you can't deny it.

"Sugu-ru..I-I..'m gonna..oh fuck I'm-ha!" your hair comes loose from the bun and tumbles down around your shoulders.

He rocks his hips and stirs your insides, pressing his pelvis tight against your clit. The pressure makes you weak. Fuck, you're close. Your nails dig into his skin through his shirt. He leans in, breathing heavily over your ear.

“I know you're about to cum..I can feel it” that growl just makes you want to scream, but you've gotta keep quiet, who knows who might pass by the other side of this door. He keeps grinding into your clit, digging the head of his cock deep against your cervix. You slap your hand across your mouth for the second time today, muffling your own lusty noises. You're so fucking close.

“Should I let you..” he stops moving and you whimper, moving your hand off your mouth, squirming to continue the friction. He runs his fingers through your hair and grips tight at the back of your neck. Your strained desperate little sounds are so cute. He clicks his tongue.

“No..I think I'll keep this one for later..” your cunt clings to him as he pulls out his still hard cock, leaving you needy and vacant. He drops your legs from his hips and you're left panting against the door, watching him casually buckle his belt and tuck in his shirt. You don't know what to do. You feel a rush of shame. He doesn't care about you. He never cared about you. He just likes playing with you.

“Better pull yourself together...Satoru is waiting for you.” his wicked grin sends heat to your face and you pull your panties back on, straightening your skirt. He picks up your bag and you scowl at him, snatching it back and turning in a huff to leave.

This was a huge mistake, and now you have to come up with something to tell Gojo. Your heart sinks like a rock in your chest as you open the door. Getou reaches from behind you, pushing the door closed and leaning over your shoulder. He curls your hair behind your ear and you flinch away.

"Fix your hair.." you hastily spin the bun back on your head.

"Fuck you.." you curse him under your breath and storm out of the room.

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(woman - harry styles)

"Toru..I-" he scoffs into his coffee cup before you can even start your sentence. He leans back in his chair and avoids your eyes. You stand clutching your notebook, heart racing, palms sweating. You hate this so much.

"No, it's cool..Did you have fun with him? I bet he had fun with you.." the sharp sarcasm stabs at your heart, but more than that, it makes you prickle with anger.

"How dare you.." you're seething mad, but he can see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want with whomever I choose! This isn't a relationship, so don't act like I'm yours!"

You've never seen him blush before. Never seen pain in his eyes like you're seeing now. You just saw the sparkle go out. He remains silent, choking on the hard but honest truth of it all. You're not his, as much as he's been pretending you are.

The seconds pass like hours. Your breath gets heavy trying to hold back the tears. The guilt is eating you alive. Being with Suguru made you realize that your feelings for Satoru are so much different than you thought. So much stronger. And you just threw it all away for some stupid little thrill in the hall closet.

He stands from his seat. Your heart feels crushed and you huff a whimper. You shut your eyes, pushing tears over your lashes. This is it, he's gonna walk away. You don't wanna see it happen.

You pull in a sharp breath at the feeling of his arms around you. He sets his head down in the crook of your neck and squeezes you into his chest. Tears stream down your face, you can't stifle your cry.

You hear him take a deep breath...

"Then I'll make you mine.."

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@himiko-omikami @darkrose1989 @angelalje @ambiguous-something

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #getou x reader #getou x y/n #getou x you #getou smut

144 notes · View notes

persoulnal · 3 years

Text

ALMOST YOURS JJK- 3

Mafia! JK x nurse reader

word count: 5.6k

genre: mafia au

warnings: fight scenes, slight suicidal ideations (of would rather die than go through something), blood, choking (not the sexy kind), mentions of child exploitation such as forced killing and brainwashing, mafia stuff

A/N: unedited as always and loosely inspired by Black Widow since I just saw it and loved it, enjoy!

LITOST: A STATE OF AGONY AND TORMENT CAUSED BY SUDDEN SIGHT OF ONE’S OWN MISERY

Do you exist because other people see you, other people know of your presence, or is simply your own acknowledgement of yourself enough to prove you're alive? Is living in the comfort of only yourself enough to provide proof that you are you in this world? Most would say yes, being in your own company is enough, but like Schrödinger's cat, who is to say if you are living or dead if not seen? Of course, you'll know you're alive in that box, and that is enough. But in essence you don't exist, but you do.

You yourself have battled with the idea of this for years. You weren't a nomad living up in the mountains with no contact to humans. You were in the real world by real people, but you also weren't per say living. More so just existing. People know of your existence because they see you, but that is all. If you disappeared one day, they wouldn't bat an eye at your absence, so did you ever exist in their world at all? The thought was depressing but that's what you were going for, being ghost. You didn't want to be known. And that's why you had no friends.

You went to work, came home, ate, slept, and repeated. You didn't go out of your way to meet people, you didn't do anything that would cast attention to yourself. You were a cat in a box leaving people to their own interpretations of you, this is until Jungkook came into your life.

You wanted nothing to do with him at first. He was trouble, but he constantly found his way into your life. At work, walking home, at the store, you name it, and he was there. In the beginning you were annoyed. You ignored him passing in the streets, didn't answer your door, and made sure to always have headphones on you. But as time went on you let him in more and more each day.

He would help you with groceries and would chat with you on your walk home after work. He was a nice guy, surprisingly to you all Bangtan were when you met them. They didn't come off as complete cold-blooded murderers that were ruthless beyond belief. But you also knew what the news said about them. And despite this war inside your mind and the teeter totter of whether Bangtan are humans, you still let Jungkook into your life.

The more you were together, the more you showed him medical practices. At first you just wanted to teach him things and get on with it, have him learn so he would stop coming to you. With time teaching him did work, the calls to save someone's life were less frequent, but today you managed to find yourself at the Bangtan mansion once more.

"So that's it?" Jungkook held the test dummy surveying what he just did.

"Yep. Not the best explanation and certain not the most correct one, but it will work." You had just finished refreshing him on how to stitch up a bullet wound. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Nope." He began to clean up the room and rid of any spare packages. "You know we are having a little party tonight, just Bangtan and our two child organizations. You should come."

"Come to a party? I'll pass." You picked up the last package throwing it in the trash.

"C'mon! It'll be fun! Not that many people will be there, and you can spend your whole night with me." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you turned away trying to hide your smile.

"I guess I can come for a little." You raised your finger towards him. "Only a little. After that you drive me home when I say to."

"All right." He agreed. "But tonight's event is formal. I think we should go shopping."

---

Letting Jungkook pick out a dress for you was probably the worst decision you have made in a while. The lack of sleep was getting to you, and when he asked what you wanted on the phone you told him get whatever he wants. When you said that you expected him to bring a cute little black dress that wasn't too high but also didn't sit at your ankles. Just a basic black dress. But no, Jungkook had to bring a dress that was a bit short for your liking and something you would never pick.

"Jungkook I am going to kill you." Your phone was on speaker as you pressed the straightener against your hair.

"Because I found the dress before you? You can take credit if you-"

"No, it's because this dress is like a second skin. Where the fuck did you find something like this?"

"Saw it the other day and thought it would look absolutely dashing on you." You could hear the smirk through the phone, and you wanted to do nothing else but slap it off his face.

"Are you almost here? And if you brought that godforsaken bike of yours, I will actually kill you."

"Don't talk bad about Shelia! And no, I brought the rover. I'll be there in five. Just come out when you're ready." He hung up after that and you let out a sigh of relief. Being on the back of a bike in a skintight dress was not something on tonight's planner for you.

Looking at yourself one last time in the mirror, you took a deep breath and decided to put your hair down last minute. Having it up wasn't something you liked to do, so you quickly pulled the tie out to be more comfortable. At least your long hair could try to cover your breasts that peeked out.

When you peeked out the window you saw a black car in the front of your apartment building on the wet concrete. The rain thankfully stopped from earlier, but the wetness and humidity were proof of its appearance.

You placed your heels on an took a deep breath. You were actually going to a mafia party. You were going to a nice gathering, and you were going to be in the mafia life.

It was scary enough itself being in that house during the day but seeing it at night made you want to vomit, but the knowledge that Jungkook would be there is what made you step out your door and to the car.

"Wow you look-"

"I will kill you." You stepped into the vehicle and made sure to shimmy the dress down so your bare ass wasn't just sitting on the seat.

"Lovely as ever." He chuckled and started to drive.

The ride didn't take long, surprisingly the Bangtan manor wasn't far from your house (you weren't sure at first how far it was due to Jungkook driving like a maniac the other times you've been).

"Ok party's in there." Jungkook was on the other end of your door with is arm out for you to grab. Carefully you grabbed it and your heel clicked on the concrete. "Let's go."

Stepping in was the hardest part. Seeing the mass number of cars outside and people slowly entering was anxiety inducing. You tried to conceal it, but Jungkook couldn't help giving you a few wary glances.

"You'll be by me the whole night. don't worry. Only those who we are close with are coming." He reassured you and squeezed your arm slightly. You gave a tight-lipped smile thankful for his acts. It did calm you down slightly knowing that he would be with you the whole time and you wouldn't be alone.

"Let's party."

---

The night started off fine. You clung to Jungkook's arm like a koala and did not let him leave once. You were glued to him and those at the party noticed the new arm candy that couldn't let go.

"He won't disappear Y/N." Taehyung joked once, and you sent him a glare in response.

The two of you mostly stayed seated. He didn't usually talk to others at these events, and you definitely would not be going around chatting. You both were enjoying the time with each other, and the alcohol had let you let loose. Not only that but it made you realize how hot Jungkook was.

In his black suit he sure did look fucking hot. The material clung to his arms and the toned muscle pulled at the threads. The top button on his shirt was undone slightly exposing his tone chest. His hair was swooped back and held with gel showing off his glorious forehead. You couldn't help but feel hot beside him and squirm a bit when he looked you in the eyes.

"See?" Jungkook had his arm around your chair and his other hand on his glass. "This isn't so bad."

"I guess. This alcohol is great too." You took another sip of your champagne looking around the room. There were people scattered about having their own discussions. Bangtan were scattered around the room and were seen conversing with various others throughout the night.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom." You decide it was time to take a slight break from the gathering and relieve yourself.

"Ok. I'll be here." He gave you silly smile which made your heart do a little dance.

Honestly tonight was weird. You dreaded it for days when he told you about it, but actually being here with him it wasn't awful. Yes, you were on the edge of an anxiety attack every now and then, but when you heard his voice, it snapped you out of it.

The bathroom wasn't too far from where you sat with Jungkook, but it did take a minute to find it. He told you how to get there when he left, but this house is too big that you had to think extra hard on where to go.

Knocking on the door you found that no one was in there and you entered. Looking at yourself in the mirror you can see you face slightly flushed from the alcohol you had earlier, but that happens when even the smallest bit enters your system.

You went to go wash your hands but then the lights went out.

When the lights when out you knew something was wrong. The room was dimmed from the candle in the corner, but it did not light it enough that you could walk clearly. Thankfully, you brought your phone and raised the flashlight.

You could hear boots hitting the hardwood floor outside and you were quick to turn off your light. You did your best to near the door and when you got there you were able to peep through the small window. You were right, people in black outfits stormed in with flashlights that looked to be going towards the main hall.

It was an attack, there was no other explanation for what was going on. You were quick to think and jump into action. There were two people outside that just walked by, with the right timing and precise planning you could take them down. Question was how did you plan to do that in the dark?

And then the lights went on as if God heard your thoughts.

You opened the door and stood behind the two people.

In one swift movement you were able to hit one of the people in the back of the head sending them down. The other one turned towards you, but your leg wrapped around their body, and you flung them on top of the other person. While doing so you grabbed their gun and shot them in the leg. Then you shot the other one in the arm. Finally, you sent a jab to their head with the butt end of the gun.

You were surprised at how easy it was, but you could tell in their movements that they weren't terribly trained. They were sloppy and weren't ready for an attack.

You took the gun in hand and held it up ready to attack anyone who came at you. There was commotion in the main room, but it quieted down soon after. And that's when you heard it, the voice.

The voice that sent shivers down your spine and made needles prick at your skin. You were going to vomit, the taste of bile rising and nausea overcoming you. You dropped the gun out of surprise, and it clacked around on the ground. You were almost about to cry but the shock of it all stopped you from doing so.

In one second, you were sent to the floor knocking out cold, you weren't sure if it was from your utter shock or if someone had landed a hit on you. Either way you didn't care, you just wanted to get out of there and this was the way you went.

---

Your head rested against something soft as your groggy eyes tried to pry themselves open.

"You're awake?" Jungkook was quick to rush to your side as you pushed yourself up to a seated position. You closed one eye as a sharp pain surfaced at your temple. "Thank God."

His strong arms pulled you into a tight embrace, the hug easing the pain.

"What happened?"

"There was an attack. You were knocked out cold on the ground and we found you after we had them flee. Are you okay? There were others around you that were dead." Jungkook looked over your body (despite doing it almost ten times after they first found you, and another 5 once you were in the main room) and you placed your hand on his face.

"I'm ok. I think someone knocked me out. My head is hurting."

"I don't see any acute trauma to your head, but it is possible." Jungkook frowned. "We are almost done here; we are just rounding up men. I don't want to leave you, but I don't want to keep you here. How about I sent you to the infirmary with Sunghoon?"

He whistled and called out for Sunghoon. A young boy who couldn't be older than 18 rushed over ready to assist. "Can you take Y/N to the infirmary? Give her Advil in the second self to the right."

The boy nodded and then bowed before placing his arm out. You hesitantly grabbed onto it but knew that you just wanted to get out of this room.

The walk was quick, and you let the boy go as soon as you got there. You were a nurse in training, you could handle yourself. He had more important matters to go to anyways, and you couldn't stand seeing such a young kid in a place like this.

You took a few Advil hoping it would kick in fast. You also dug around for some anti-anxiety meds. There had to be some here, right? They were a fucking mafia they had to have drugs like that, but you failed to find any. No Xanax, no lorazepam, no other benzenoids in that dainty room.

The panic of earlier and not finding anything was kicking in. You could feel your body going into a state of great panic, your hands were shaky, and your vision blurred slightly.

You killed. well almost. You killed not one person in years but almost had to kill two people tonight. You haven't killed in years. Oh god you almost took another life.

"What have I done." You slowly feel to the ground, hands tugging at your hair with your knees in your chest.

It was around this time when Jungkook came in. He saw your panicked state on the floor and was quick to jump into action. He came to your side and began to whisper softly into your ear trying to calm you down. He didn't touch you until you lunged yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his body while tears filled his shirt. He placed soft kisses on your head and just held you.

---

Ever since the party you have been having the same nightmare. It was a replay of the events from that night but the people who attacked had caught you and you had kill more people. It was putting a strain on your mental and physical health.

Last night were one of the worst ones yet and the lack of sleep had caused you to call off work. In doing so, you missed your shift where you knew Jungkook would be wondering where you were.

Jungkook: Hey, you ok?

Jungkook: you're not at work

Jungkook: they said you called off sick, I'll be over soon

He only sent three messages at 10 am when you had finally fallen back asleep. You only saw them when you woke up at 2 pm, just an hour before his shift ends.

You: it's ok. I just didn't sleep well. you don't have to come.

You sent the message slamming your phone against the bed letting out a sigh. Today you wanted to just relax, let your anxiety settle before going on with life again.

You were tossing and turning for the hour before his shift ended and even then, you still struggled with. And then there was the knock on your door. Groggily you trudged to the front door, hands trying to wipe the tired from your eyes.

"Jungkook I told you it-" You faltered in your step slowly stumbling back while holding the door. In front of you was not Jungkook but two men with dark clothes and masks on. "I think you have the wrong house."

You attempted to slam your door shut but a shoe jumped out before you do so. The force of the two men sent the door flying open, the push causing you to fly back and do a back roll on the ground to steady yourself. One knee was place on the ground as your head whipped up to assess the situation. On the right one man stood in a fighting stance while the other was to the left cracking his knuckles.

"I thought I said wrong house." You said again, this time with clear anger laced in your words. One of the men let out a laugh and then found his way to you. He leaned forward extending his arm out to where you jumped back reaching for the lamp beside you. You pulled it from the plug and with all your force you smashed it against his neck. The other man had now leaped for you, and you ducked throwing a blow to his abdomen. Next you sent your leg up which collided with his forearm and then you brought the other one to lace around his neck throwing him down against your glass coffee table. He let out a grunt, head tilting back in pain and shock from the fall.

The other man with blond hair had now pulled out a pocketknife.

"Oh great." You mumbled looking around for an item to grab yourself. With the little time you had as he lunged at you, you managed to grab your spare letter opener that was on the side table.

The blond man slashed his knife at you as you were forced to back up into the kitchen. In a split second he was able to nick your arm and blood began to run down it. Through his mask you could tell he was smiling.

"Ouch." You wiped the spare blood away steadying yourself in a fighting position once more. He dove at you, and you dodged it spinning to be on the other side of his back. You hit him on the neck with your elbow and then sent him to the cabinets with a powerful kick.

"You bitch." He groaned recovering quickly from that hit, spitting blood out in the process.

As you mounted for another attack, you didn't account for the other man to come behind you and hold you down. Your arms were locked together as he pressed you into the countertop to limit your moving space. With the letter opener in hand, you tried your best to swing it around in hopes of hitting him but no avail. He kicked it out of your hand and slammed your head against the table.

"It's nice to see that you can still fight." He chuckled throwing your head down once more. You winced at the blunt force while blood started to run down your forehead. "Such a shame that you'll probably be dead within the next day."

And this was it. You were going to be captured by these men who had some issue with you, who obviously wanted to kidnap you. This would be your life and the only person who would know that you were dead would be Jungkook since you had let him into your tiny box. To the world you would be nothing once more.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Jungkook stood in the open doorway with takeout in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He had changed out of his scrubs and was seen in similar attire to the men in your house. His hair was disheveled, probably from riding his bike here, and eyes dark.

With their distraction you took this as your moment to get them off you. In a swift movement you smashed the head of the guy holding you down on the table into the marble. The blond man was caught off guard by your leg coming to into contact with his chest throwing him into the refrigerator. At this point the other man had now stood and was about to reach for your hair but Jungkook was quick to stop him and send a forceful punch to his nose. While Jungkook fought that man you continued to fight with the blond man.

"So, we were right." He smirked, bloody teeth on display with extra blood dripping down the side of his face. "You are conspiring with Bangtan. Interesting."

"What?" Jungkook questioned from the other side of the room where he had his forearm up to block a punch. He had been fighting with this man and was watching you from the corner of his eye.

"Don't act stupid we have been watching you." You took this moment to leap forward ready to attack him. He slid to the right avoiding your punch which was received by the refrigerator door. You moaned in pain but were quick to get back into action.

With the commotion going on you were surprised that your neighbors weren't calling the cops or coming to see what was going on. Whenever you played music too loud, they made sure to come and yell at you, but somehow drew the line at 2 men attacking you in your own living room.

You were doing quite well holding him off, that is until he grabbed your kitchen knife and stabbed you in the abdomen. It was hard to go on fighting, but you did your best, but in the end, he managed to get his forearm around your throat. He pulled at your head trying to cut off your air as you thrashed around underneath him to let go. His strength was too much but you tried anyways.

"Y/N!" Jungkook was just about finished with the man on the other side of the room, he held him in a similar position to you. In seconds, the man fell unconscious at Jungkook's feet, and he jumped over the countertop tackling the man to the ground. You were released but the lack of air and stab wound started to make you queasy. You did your best to stay conscious, but the lack of blood was starting to worsen.

"Y/N stay with me, ok?" Jungkook loomed over you, hands pressing into your wound to lessen the blood flow. Your head weakly nodded but right after that you dozed off.

---

The first thing you felt was pain. There was a stabbing pain in the left side of your stomach and throb in your head. Your arm was slightly numb too and your whole body ached.

The next thing you felt was panic. When your eyes opened, you noticed that you were not familiar with this place. You were in a random bed with random walls and random dressers. The room was clean, almost too clean from the looks of it. Everything was polished and a minimalistic white. Looking down though all you saw was red. The sheets you were on were stained red. The bandage around your side was red. It was all red. And that sent you into a second wave of panic. The third wave of panic was when you tried to move your hands.

When you tried to sit up, there was a tug at your wrists sending you to fly back down against the sunken pillows. The blood was still fresh and the feeling of it against your skin made you grimace. Looking down you notice there were handcuffs that restricted you to the bed. They were too tight around your wrist, and you could feel pain from when you tugged at it before.

"You're awake." A cold voice echoed from the open door to the left. Your head turned to be faced with Jungkook who had his hands placed in his pockets and a sulked face. He looked beyond tired; you could tell even in the dim lighting. He must have patched you up after the attack.

You only nodded unsure of what to take from this situation. Did they find you out?

"I'll go get the others." Was all he said before he left leaving you alone in the sad room.

The dynamics between you two felt like it had shifted. You wanted to excuse it for him being tired, but your gut was telling you otherwise. It was strange and the while the previous anxiety had faded, a new one arose.

It took a few minutes for seven men to file in the room one by one. Their eyes were heavy and had a similar distaste as Jungkook's from earlier. The silence was deafening, and the tension grew by the second.

"You are probably confused right now," Namjoon finally spoke as he rested against the chair placed in the middle, "You were attacked at home, as you probably know. Jungkook took out the men, well man, but Jungkook brought up and interesting fact after he stitched you up. You were one the other one who took out one of the men."

You froze at his words. During the attack you didn't account for the fact that after there would be a possibility of being questioned about your ability to fight, more specifically your ability to fight trained fighter in the mafia.

"Yeah," You began trying to think of what to say, "I took self-defense classes two years ago."

"Self-defense doesn't teach enough to dismantle mafia members, specifically trained force members." Jimin, who had recovered smoothy, spoke up, "They were basically the best of the best in the Kang mafia. A normal person like you wouldn't be able to take them down.

"Which leads us to this question: who are you?" You gulped at Namjoon's words despite your efforts to hide the surprise and unease at his question.

"What do you mean? I'm Y/N Kim. I'm a uni student that works at the hos-"

"No, we mean who you really are." Jungkook, who was sulking in the corning this whole time with his arms crossed, came forward into the light. "Who are you miss Y/N. What have you been hiding from us?"

"You asking this could mean you already know or you're going to torture it out of me even if I seem convincing." You knew the mafia tactics. They would start by asking a question, they may know it and if they do, they are testing if you'll lie, or they are asking and then will force the truth out of you.

"You can fight and are smart." Namjoon continued. "Your records from age eighteen and younger are erased, you came out of nowhere, the Kangs think you are associated with us, the list goes on and on. So, it's your choice, tell us who you are, or we will get it out of you."

"I don't know what you are talking about." You continue to lie, you couldn't expose yourself, you didn't want to take that chance. "I told you who I am why won't you-"

"Stop lying." Jungkook spoke, his voice harsh.

"I-I," You didn't know what to say or what to do.

"Hello Ms. L/N." Namjoon stood from his chair shoving it to the side with a bit of annoyance. "Welcome to the Bangtan manor. I hope it is as good as the last one you stayed at, the Lim's."

Silence. You did nothing at first when Namjoon spoke of your last name. You haven't heard it in years and almost forgot what it sounded like.

L/N.

It made your skin crawl at the mention of it, when it fell from the tip of his tongue your body shuttered with unknown fear. The fear rose in the back of your throat, a gag noise coming out, as the seven men stood around you. Vomit. You threw up all over yourself, nasty vomit fell from your leg to the side of the bed falling to the floor. You didn't know it, but you were crying. Fat tears spilled from your swollen eyes and snot gathered at your chin. You were a crying mess. The memories were coming back.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! I was never supposed to be back in this life!" You cried out. "Please don't make me relive this nightmare again."

With pleading, blurry eyes you looked at the seven men in the room hoping for one last act of kindness. They were confused to say the least.

Their first reaction to hearing of your real past was that you were a spy. You somehow infiltrated their sector and were there to keep tabs, and even helped assist with the recent attack. Though it was plausible, the entirety of it was flawed. First, you were dead. At least records show that you should be dead. Died in a horrible car crash that ended up in a lake. You were never searched for as enforcement was never contacted. Second, the Kangs were looking for you. They must have found out you never truly died and wanted to find you somehow. Third, it just didn't seem right. You were not the type of person they were, you couldn't be, but somehow you were.

"We don't plan to kill you." That comment should have relieved you. You aren't going to die! How lucky you are to be spared. Of course, you weren't being spared. Probably just sent back to the Lim's or stuck with Bangtan to go through the same trauma.

"Kill me." You deadpanned, tears stopping for a moment as the horror set it. "Kill me right now. Right fucking now! Kill me!"

"Y/N, what?" Jungkook was hurt finding out about you, but seeing you here now he hurt in a different way.

"Don't send me back. Kill me. You can't send me back."

"My uncle, Leeho was in the mafia, part of the Lim's. My father never knew Leeho was in it, Leeho was good with secrets. I always knew something was off though. Horror shows excited him and not in the horror fanatic type way. In a really fucked up type way. I was never close to him due to that." You paused preparing yourself for the next statement.

"When I was five my family was brutally murdered. I was out at a friend's when it happened. My uncle was the first to take me in and disappeared with me. He brought me into the mafia world. Thought that I could be the one to seek revenge on my family. I was trained in combat and weapons. By the age of twelve I was a master killer that could take down men twice my size. I had aim that would be Olympics worthy and were like those of CIA agents. To get there I was tortured, abused, manipulated, forced to endure endless pain daily."

The room was silent, and you were surprised at how calm you were telling this to them.

"When I turned thirteen, I was completely manipulated and under a mind control. I did what I was told with no questions. I was psychologically fucked. When I turned eighteen, I had a mission with my uncle and when I almost had to kill a little boy, I realized how fucking awful what I was doing was. I thought it was normal, or I toned out my distaste for it. Either way for a solid part of my life, I killed with little remorse. That day, I gained it back and decided to do something. After we left, I had the plan to drive us off the cliff. My uncle passed but the bastard had it coming. I made it out and ran away. I found my way here thinking I would never see anyone from the mafia world again but then I found Taehyung..."

Now tears slightly brimmed from your eyes.

"Please don't send me there. Kill me. They will torture me endlessly."

Jungkook was silent and felt like throwing up. You didn't go into detail of what happened, but he can only imagine what they have done to you. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty, and absolute psychopaths.

"We won't" He spoke up, hand reaching for yours. "I won't let you go back."

#jungkook #jungkook au #mafia jungkook au #bts au #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #mafia jungkook

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lewdbabies · 3 years

Text

~The neighbor ~

part 1

part 2 posted on my page 💗

Warning: MDNI, 18+, Language, Smut, Masturbation, sexual situations

Nanami KentoXReader smut

“ Wet wet wet wet!” Ashiniko plays loudly Making you shoot up in a panic. You scramble around the bed searching for your Iphone, You quickly slam on the snooze button. You groan rubbing your sleepy eyes, “Ugh another work day, yay” you mumble to yourself. Throwing the covers away you slide to the edge of the bed throwing your legs over. Sliding your fluffy slippers on you trudge toward the bathroom.

After Giving yourself a sluggish once over in the mirror you reach for the shower faucet Turning the water to its hottest temperature. Your blue lace night gown falls in a puddle around your feet as you step into the tub. The hot water beats down on your skin the streams tickling your puckered nipples. Your head falls back at the sensation hands sliding over your wet skin. It had been so long since someone had touched you, After your last bad break up you lost interest in sex all together.

You were sexually frustrated and it showed the slightest touch to your flesh turned you on. Something as simple as a shower stream had you squirming. Your hands slide up cupping your breast, You pinch the hard bead biting back a moan.

Your legs feel weak as you tease yourself the room fills with whimpers and steam.

“N-Nanami...” you breath slipping your fingers between your thighs. You imagine his tall slender body pressed against yours water droplets falling from his blond hair.

You can see it, his dark chestnut eyes staring down at you, taking in every inch of your trembling body. Just the thought of him throws you off balance teetering on the brink of climax. “Ah fuck-“ your fingers slide against your clit teasing the bundle of nerves. You’re soaking wet, your palm slick with your arousal. You rub faster needy for a release, your legs shake as you cum, you reach for the shower wall to support your shivering body.

“Ah Nanami!” You call one final time as you ride out your orgasm. You’re panting trying to catch your breath as you reach for your bath puff. You wash your body quickly, giving your hair a wash as well . You rinse all the suds away leaving your body smelling like a bouquet of flowers. You push the shower curtain open grabbing your bath towel from the hook and wrapping it around your torso. You do your everyday routine, brushing your teeth, Combing your hair into a neat Low bun, moisturizing ,the usual. The sun beams through your slightly parted linen curtains as you walk towards the closet. You live in a small compact city everything is pretty much right next door including apartment buildings. Your high rise view was a clear shot into your neighbors bedroom window.

Movement catches your eye, you peer curiously out, hidden behind the drapes.

Your neighbors window is wide, his back is turned, white bath towel wrapped around his waist. The muscles in his back flex as he rotates his wrist massaging his temple. He looks stressed, it’s clear he isn’t to happy about his early morning either. The sun dances on his golden locs as he pushes his hair back before retreating out of sight.

Nanami Kento. he’d been your neighbor for the last 2 years you didn’t know much about him apart from his name. You were lucky to even know that much, you learned that small piece of information by chance. He is a regular at your job, a local coffee shop a few blocks from where you both live. He came there every single morning on his way to work in the inner city. You weren’t sure what he did exactly but it seemed important by the way he dressed, Every Day he wore his signature suit and tie.

You sigh touching your warm cheeks, you walk to the closet pulling the double doors open. You grab your work uniform from the hanger throwing it on in a haste. You tie your apron and slip on your shoes, you grab your purse from your desk and Scurry out the front door locking it behind you. You speed walk to the elevator pushing the number 1, your foot Taps impatiently. You’d swear this Elevator had a hundred floors by how slow it is. The doors finally open with a ding and you step inside.

“ Please hold the door!” You jump, Reaching a hand out to hold the doors from closing. Footsteps run towards the opening and you’re face to face with Mr. Nanami himself. How ironic. He walks into the elevator panting, he leans over hands on his knees from exhaustion.

“Thank you I hate waiting for this elevator it is very inconvenient “ he pants.

Your heart is beating like a stallion, You give a nervous laugh smiling like an idiot.

“A-Ah it’s nothing” you stutter.

You curse yourself internally ‘really it’s nothing is that the best you can think of Y/N’ you think. He stands up straightening out his suit jacket with his free hand, the other holds his large black suitcase. He quickly gains his composure a stern sexy look rest on his face. You shift side to side anxiously keeping your eyes cast on your shoes.

This is the first time you two have been alone together it was nerve racking. You could smell him, he smelled of luxury cologne and fresh shampoo. Hes so close that his shoulder brushed against your own, there was plenty space and yet he chose to stand just inches from your body. Your imagination was running wild envisioning him slamming you against the elevator wall and crashing those soft lips against yours.

He reaches up trailing his bottom lip with his fingertip, your cheeks heat up.

“Y/N?” You’re snapped from your daze.

“Huh uh I mean yes how did you know?”

He points “ Your name tag, I see that same name tag every morning, you’re the coffee shop girl” he states.

Your heart sinks, ‘oh god not coffee shop girl’ you nod your head, pulling your lips into a strained smile.

The elevator dings the doors open.

“Well it’s only fair I tell you my name since you rescued me from the agony of waiting, I’m N-“

“Nanami “ you interrupt.

“How did you-“

“I see that name on a coffee cup every morning” you mock earning a chuckle from him.

“Now that we’re better acquainted call me Kento” he shoots you a devilish smirk before turning and walking towards the parking garage.

~part 2 coming soon stay tuned~💗

#jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #smut #sukuna smut #sukunaxreader #nanami fluff #jjk fanfic #nanami fanfic

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“Similar Tastes” Pt. 2

Summary: After Harry and you leave the bar, you can’t stop fighting, but it leads to one of the best nights of your life

Did someone order smut with a side of smut and an extra topping of SMUT?!? because that’s what we’ve got and some cuteness at the end but holy shit.

You guys were so awesome about part 1 and then I got some requests to do a smutty part 2 so ENJOY, this sealed my fate to hell so yeah bahah. - not proofread bc the app is trash and posted before I was ready

Word Count: 3.8k | Warnings: SMUT, slight degradation kink?, daddy kink, it’s not as dirty as i thought it was now that i’m writing this warning

Pt. 1

“Ouch! Can you scoot back?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I cannot believe you.”

You and Harry hadn’t made it the entire short trip back to his house without fighting. Despite how completely hot you were for each other, the bickering just never seemed to end. Now you were straddling his lap still inside his parked car in his driveway. You had decided kissing would cut out the talking, but now your ass was shoved uncomfortably against his steering wheel and you were feeling extremely crushed rather than sexy. And Harry wouldn’t move.

Harry’s lips peeled off of the side of your neck and glared up at you, “Let’s just go inside.”

You huffed, “Yeah, this isn’t working.”

He popped open the car side door and you climbed off of him and adjusted your top that now had your tits spilling out of it. Harry grinned at the sight, “Don’t need to put those away now, love, ‘bout to see it all soon.”

“Not if you keep speaking to me like that.” You began to stalk up to Harry’s front door, crossing your arms with your head held high. You had begun to question why you had agreed to go home with Harry when he truly could be a total jerk. He jogged to catch up with you and when he reached your side, his large hand landed a slap on your ass and you remembered why, he made you horny.

“Don’t be like that…” He whispered close to your ear and you bucked your head into his shoulder in response.

After opening the door and ushering the pair of you in, Harry’s hands pushed you up against the door with fervor and went to kiss you. As his wet pink lips were about to connect with yours, you turned your head and he only kissed your cheek. Exasperated, Harry’s forehead rested against yours. “What now?”

“Say sorry,” you stated.

“What?!” His head moved back and his eyes stared wildly at you in the dim lighting of the house.

“Apologize for being rude or you can forget about fucking me...all night long,” you smirked, feeling extremely powerful in this moment.

“Y/N…” Harry contemplated it for a minute, to give in and have a good night or continue to fight and do nothing. His growing erection tugged at his attention as it began to press into your leg and he decided his best option was to give in, “I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?” Your head tilted as a finger trailed down his chest.

“For being rude…”

“And?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“Apologize for how you’re always stepping on my toes.”

“Am not!” Harry was over your little power trip, “You got your apology, no let’s get back to what we’re actually here for.” He went in to kiss you and you granted him a peck before pulling back again.

“You’re unbelievable, Harry-” He ignored your words and cut you off by moving his mouth down to your neck, beginning to suck vigorously. Your body shivered at his touch, gripping onto his shoulder for some sort of purchase.

“Oh yeah, tell me how much you fucking hate me, sweetheart,” he breathed against your neck eventually. His hands were gripping both of your ass cheeks and the pressure of his dick against your thigh had your wetness growing instantly. Trying to choke down a moan, you whimpered, “I do hate you…”

He licked up the side of your neck and nipped at your ear lobe, whispering he said, “Sure ya do.” He was mocking you and you were loving it, feeling like you were about to melt in his hands. Like you had said earlier, you both had similar tastes in bed. So you felt ecstatic to actually be in his arms right now.

His lips pressed open mouth kisses along your jaw and you were trying, and failing, to keep your panting to a minimum. Your wetness was only growing as Harry continued to press his broad chest against your heaving breasts. He slipped a leg between yours, as he had in the bar alleyway, and pressed up into your clothed heat.

“Fuck..” you sighed.

“Panting like a fuckin’ bitch in heat for my cock, huh? Can feel your wet pussy throbbing for me, pet.” Harry spat out as he continued to suck on every inch of skin that was exposed, from your lips to your neck to your cleavage. It felt amazing, but you wanted more.

Suddenly, Harry flipped your body around so that your front was pressed against the doorway, his hard dick pressed between your ass cheeks. His lips went back to your neck, one of his hands gripped low on your hip and the other went to hold onto your throat. His hold on your neck caused your head to be shoved back on his chest. He was constricting your breathing in the most perfect way, turning you on even more at just the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered out meekly at his words and actions, feeling blissfully overwhelmed. You managed to push your ass up against his crotch more, but that was about the extent of your will power in that moment.

“Remember when you were doing this with that woman? Your little pretty mouth on her neck, your body moving perfectly against hers. Had to force myself to look away, was starting to get hard from just the sight.”

You moaned as you felt Harry’s large hand go down and cup your mound over your pants. You cursed yourself for wearing trousers out, then you wouldn’t have been matching with Harry and he’d now have extremely easy access to where you wanted him now.

Gaining a little strength, you pulled from Harry’s grasp and faced him again. Your hands began to tug at the few buttons that were still done on his shirt. As you worked, you pushed him further into the house hoping he’d get the hint to take you to his room.

“Then that actual asshole came up. You looked fucking hot with all that rage in your eyes,” Harry sighed as he pulled you to his room, his hands never leaving yours even if you weren’t kissing. “Wanted to beat him up, though, for what he said.”

“Yeah, I’d never seen you that angry,” you finished with his shirt and Harry finished pulling it off of him. Your hands ran down his chest, feeling the grooves created by his muscles and seeing the black ink of his tattoos, “Fucking hot…” Then they went for his belt, but Harry stopped you, “You need to be much less dressed, pet.” He tugged off your tiny navy top and you reached around for your bras clasp, again he stopped you and took his own nimble fingers to take it off for you. As the bra slid down your arms, Harry’s lips flew to your right nipple, engulfing it with a slight groan. A hand ran up your naked figure and squeezed at the other one as his tongue swirled at your nipple, causing it to pebble.

Then he rasped, “Pants.” But you simply stood there, staring at him with terribly large doe eyes. You were throbbing for him, but you wanted him to be more aggressive with you. When you did nothing, his mouth and hands left your body and he stood up straight. His large body towered over yours and a smirk grew on his face as he scanned your frame.

“I said, pants.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself.”

“Oh, so you’re also a stuck up princess in the bedroom, too? Makes sense.”

Harry was quick to unbutton your pants and then yank them, along with your thong, down your legs, leaving you completely exposed. As you went to kiss him, he roughly turned you around again, pulling your back into him and sitting on his bed. His arm was wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder. He widened his legs, causing yours to follow suit, which led you to be completely spread for him. Your breathing was heavy, your tits heaving up and down in anticipation for what Harry was about to do next. With his free hand, he rested it on your right knee and began to drag his fingertips up your thigh at an agonizingly slow rate. Your hips bucked in anticipation when he was about halfway up your thigh. He wasn’t kissing you at all, his wide eyes trained on your lower body on top of his clothed legs. You felt him swallow hard against you due to your movement on top of his dick.

“Keep still, pet, trying to focus.”

His arm around your waist gripped tighter and you let out a shaky breath. His fingertips moved further away from your heat as punishment. Your legs widened, trying to entice Harry to move faster as you laid against his toned body. The heat that his body emitted was burning your skin. The way his soft skin of his chest felt against your back was intoxicated, you wanted to touch and kiss every inch of it. But Harry wasn’t happy with the movement, his hands stopped again. You both were in agony, needy for each other, but the name of the game was ‘similar tastes’, so you both knew you loved the chase.

“I told you,” Harry growled, “to not move. Do you just want Daddy to stop? Is that what you want, pet?”

And there it was. The daddy kink. You moaned loudly at his words, unable to hold back now.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He tensed, but then he continued his slow travel to your center, his fingers growing impatient. His arm around your waist slid up to your throat again, “Now that really is no way to talk to me now is it? M’gonna have to punish you, yeah?” Your head strained to look back at Harry and he allowed it. Your eyes meeting his and you bit your lip in response, his fingers just at the fleshy crease between your thigh and your pussy now. “You’re filthy, though, so I know that’s what you’ve wanted all along, hmm?”

His rough hand now cupped over your bare mound, “Answer me, pet.”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re forgetting something…Not gonna touch you until you say it.”

You whispered, almost inaudibly, “Daddy…”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He said happily, his voice still containing that low rasp as he gripped over your pussy, not dipping in yet just holding it tightly. His grip also tightened on your neck a bit and you felt completely held up by Harry’s two hands. Your breathing got even heavier and then you screamed. Harry let a single finger slip between your folds and the juices came spilling out around it. You were so wet for him and the small movement had you pushing down hard on his hand. He flicked it up to your clit and swirled around there for a moment before pushing back down and inside your weepy hole.

“So fucking wet, it’s almost unbelievable. Except I know what a slut you are, so fucking needy for my cock.” You had no idea what to say, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and you loved being taken control of like this in the bedroom, even with Harry - maybe especially with Harry.

He took you off of his lap and threw you onto the bed, your body splayed out for him, your dripping pussy glistening up at him through the darkness.

“What? No comeback?” He began, undoing his belt and taking off his pants. His hard cock sprang free, leaving him completely naked as well. “Who knew all I had to do was get you in bed to finally shut you up?” He spread your legs apart again, knees falling out by your hips. He stared down at your naked body and devoured it with his eyes.

“Come on, tell me you hate me. Lie to my face, Y/N.” His body came between your legs, his lips hovering over your dripping cunt for a moment before continuing up your body until he was face to face with you. His now freed dick was laying perfectly nestled between your pussy lips as he stared down at you. The head pressing down on your plumped clit. His neck strained as he held himself up and your eyes flickered down between your bodys to see where they were connected. His golden skin that stretched perfectly over every dip and curve of his body had you screaming inside. This moment was a thousand degrees and you wanted it to last forever.

“Hello? Is there anyone still in there?” Harry took a hand from beside your face and tapped on your cheek. You nodded about to open your mouth and say something coherent. “Actually, you know what, save your lies, I have a better idea for when you can tell me them.”

He leaned down and pressed an oddly sweet kiss to your lips. Then he shifted the pair of you back further on the bed. He leaned back on his knees and gripped his dick in one hand. He reached his other out to your mouth, “Spit,” you easily complied. He switched hands, gave his dick a few pumps and then lined it up with your opening. Without any further warning his thrusted deeply inside of you. For the second time that night, you screamed, and then you screamed out Harry’s name when he gave you a second thrust. He had your body arched off the bed as he sat up on his knees with your legs wrapped around his hips, your heels digging into the top of his ass, and his hands gripping your hips. His abs were rippling as he held the two of you up. But then he stopped, his green eyes were now the color of a dark abyss and they were boring straight through you. You whined out, “Harry, what the fuck?”

“Tell me a lie.”

“What?”

“If you want me to keep fucking your needy little cunt, tell me one reason you hate me. For every lie, you get another thrust of my cock.”

His words with his cock sheathed inside of you almost made you cum right there. His dick was completely stretching and filling you up and you could feel your juices dripping out of where you were connected. You needed him to move.

“I fucking hate you…” you seethed. “Uh-huh, tell me why,” Harry egged you on and began to pull out slightly, the movement making you shudder and struggle for words. “Because you wear the same clothes as me.”

“Good.”

He pulled completely out until just his tip was at your entrance. You felt empty and wanted him back, he pushed harshly back inside, both of you moaned out at the feeling.

“I hate you because you think you’re the best at everything,” you moaned out, Harry thrusted.

“Right back at you,” He growled.

“I hate you because you steal the spotlight.”

“Again, you.” Harry thrusted.

As much as he liked this game he had created, the sweat on his forehead was starting to pool, he needed to fuck you faster or else he was going to lose it. Seeing you laid out around him, writhing in pleasure, panting insults as you gripped the sheets and your tits, it was all too much.

“I hate you...because you’re too fucking slow at this,” you gasped as he gave you another slow thrust.

He leaned forward and kissed one of your tits before sticking his tongue into your mouth and sucking harshly. You kissed back fervently, needing any sort of release from the agony of the pressure building inside of you.

“You’re right, you’re taking too long to give me even mediocre lies,” he whispered once he pulled away.

With his dick inside of you, Harry took your legs from around him and flipped you around him. Again you screamed and Harry smirked at the sound, he loved to hear the way you sounded just because of him. He gripped your hips from behind now, fingers digging into your fleshy hips and ass, marking you as his. He did a quick preliminary thrust to test out the feel of this new position. With your head already pushed into the bed and your hands grabbing out in front of you, you moaned loudly.

“That’s better,” Harry muttered, taking one hand to land a loud smack onto the side of your ass. You jumped forward, but his other hand held you in place. “Be a good girl.”

Then he’s off, his hips snapping into action, pistoning his cock deep inside your folds. The sounds you two made with your body were obscene in the most literal sense. The squelching of your juices when his cock disappeared inside of you mixed with the hearty moans Harry and you were both emitting was a symphony of pleasure.

Eventually your moans turned to high-pitched repeated chants of “Uh-huh” as your release neared. Harry’s hips never slowing down, possibly moving even faster, he enjoyed hearing you come undone beneath him, your body bouncing just with the sheer force of his dick inside of you. “Gonna cum?” His thrusts never ceasing, his chest glistening with sweat as his cross pounded against it with each push inside of you. He rubbed over the red spot on your ass from him slapping you before.

You moaned out, “Yes daddy!”

“Tell me how much you hate me again?” He asks, pounding relentlessly, trying to tip you over the edge. He slaps your ass again, stinging your cheek and sending that feeling throughout your body, “Tell me.” His moans were out of control, yet his voice when he spoke was almost completely calm, if only slightly breathless.

He pulls out, punishing you for not answering fast enough. “Harry…” you whine. He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed so now your feet are on the ground. He kicks your feet so that you widen your legs and shoves his angry red cock back inside your walls. He’s just about ready to cum as well, but he wants you to say something first. He begins speeding back up to his original speed as he grabs your body and brings it flush against his. Both your bodies are clammy against one other, beads of sweat running down your spine and between his pecs. He brings one hand to your tit and squeezes it hard, another moan escapes your mouth. Then, his other goes down your stomach and lands on you clit. As he begins to rub, he asks you again to tell him.

Finally, you breath out, in time with his thrusts, “I” “Fucking” “Hate” “You” “Ha-aahhhh” You don’t get to finish your sentence, your body begins to convulse in Harry’s grip, your orgasm overtaking any brain function. His dick is still bobbing in and out of you, but Harry released your body from against his, and you fall back down to the bed.

As he chases his own release, he moans out in complete euphoria how your pussy has gripped and tightened around his cock after your orgasm. It’s like it was milking him and his thrusts became completely erratic. Finally he released, his load spurting inside you and painting your walls with cum. He collapsed on top of your body on the bed, exhausted.

“I hate you, too,” he whispered into your ear, pecking a kiss on your cheek that wasn’t pressed into the bed.

As you laid there, coming down from your highs, you began to feel bits of Harry’s cum drip down your leg.

“Harry, you need to get off of me.”

“But I like it here, feels nice.”

“Your cum is starting to drip out of me, not to mention your dick’s still in there too.”

“Like I said, feels nice.”

He was right, it was hot. Feeling the pressure of him all around you after what had just happened. You were completely consumed by this man. He was everything for however long you two had just been fucking and you had loved it. The way he had taken control, the way he’d made you feel, all of it.

After a few more moments, however, he did listen to your request and slid out of you. He went to his bathroom to clean the two of you up and brought you back a t-shirt so you didn’t have to be naked.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, staring down at Harry who had just wiped down your pussy with a warm washcloth.

He nodded and rose back up to dispose of the washcloth somewhere else, leaving you in the center of his bed, swimming in the random t-shirt he had given you. You had slowly regained your normal pattern of breathing, but you were completely wiped out with exhaustion. When

Harry came back, you asked, “What time is it?”

“Half past 2”

“Shit…” you looked around, not even seeing your own clothes, “that’s late.”

“You can stay here?”

“I don’t have to.”

“It’s okay with me,” Harry shrugged.

“Really?”

“Of course, I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I care about you, I’m not going to send you out to find your way home at 3 am.” He’d found a clean pair of boxers and slid onto the bed next to you. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and you stared up at him.

“I know what we did just now was, like, a hate fuck...But I don’t hate you, Harry.”

He laughed softly at your words, “I gathered.”

You swatted at his bicep, but smiled brightly, “Shut up!”

“Told you to tell me lies and you told me reasons you hated me, meaning you actually don’t hate me at all.”

“I know that, I was there!”

“Oh my god, it’s never ending with you, huh?” Harry moaned as he wrapped his arms around you and brought the pair of you into a laying down position, with your body on top of his.

“Ok, daddy,” you mocked.

“Hey! I know you liked that just as much as I did,” he huffed.

You grinned, your face millimeters from his also smiling face. “Yeah, yeah I did,” you say. Then your voice grew a lot more serious and a lot softer. You stared straight into Harry’s eyes and his expression grew soft. “Y’know as much as I like passionate, hate sex..I also like, um, y’know, like passionate, loving sex.”

“I - me too. We could try that, too, next time,” Harry’s eyes brightened at your suggestion and he ran a hand down the backside of your hair, petting you softly, comforting you.

“We might need to be a little nicer to each other, in regular life, too,” your statement coming out more as a question. Your fingers fiddling with themselves on top of Harry’s broad chest.

“I think I can manage that. Maybe we can talk about what we’re planning on wearing to places beforehand so that we don’t end up wearing matching outfits.”

“Or! If this ever did become serious, we could be one of those couples who coordinated their outfits.”

You both burst out in laughter at your facetious suggestion. Simultaneously you both said, “Never!”

Harry craned his neck up and planted a kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, pressing your lips down so he could lay back and kiss you more easily. His hand cradled the back of your neck and your lips danced together softly, enjoying each other’s presence.

taglist: @delfidemarco @detroitkiwis @burberryharold @avhrodite @iconicharry

@cronias13 @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @harrys-cherrry @harrxier @sltwins @awesomebooklover17 @harrys-stan

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #similar tastes #pt 2 #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles filth #harry styles dirty imagine

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alifeasvivid · 3 years

Text

I don’t believe in Hell, but I’m sure there will be punishment for this. @modernday-jay this is all your fault.

warning: 1p/2p americest, smut

Sometimes Allen Jones still can’t believe his luck. His considerate, sweet, adorkable boyfriend, Alfred Jones (no relation, of course) has turned out to be an absolute sex god in the bedroom (and other places) with stamina that almost surpasses Allen’s—no small feat for sure.

Alfred F. Jones. The mythical man who can do both.

And he has a whole ten goddamn inches.

…which Allen would like very much to have inside him right now and he isn’t feeling too particular about where. Alfred, however, seems determined to torture him.

“You’re so good, baby,” Alfred murmurs in that dark bedroom voice of his. “You’re doing so good.” He has both of Allen’s legs hooked over his shoulders with three fingers scissoring slowly in and out of Allen’s ass. Alfred turns his head slightly to place a kiss on Allen’s ankle.

Allen writhes on the mattress. His cock throbs and drips pre-cum on his stomach. As instructed, his hands stay fisted in the sheets. “Fuck! Al! Get on with it!” he half commands, half begs. The consequences are immediate and he arches off the bed as Alfred’s fingers massage him in just the right spot.

Alfred hums casually in harmony with Allen’s desperate sobs, simply enjoying the reactions his ministrations elicit. He drizzles more lube on his fingers and slides them in and out, pushing against that spot that makes Allen gasp and whine.

Allen thinks he might die like this. “I taught—nnghh—taught you too well.”

Alfred sends him a slight smirk as he adds a fourth finger, never altering his languid pace. “You taught me how to make you feel good. You don’t like feelin’ good?”

Allen pants like he’s choking as Alfred’s large, warm fingers stretch him and caress his walls, all while staring at him with darkened blue eyes. Oh the agony and the ecstasy of having found someone who can actually keep up with him. “Al, Al… please, oh fuck.” Alfred has yet to touch Allen’s cock at all and he already feels like he could burst.

“I just love the way you look with my fingers so deep inside you, pretty boy,” Alfred purrs because he knows exactly what that does to Allen.

With no warning, Allen’s orgasm hits him like a freight train and he cums all over his stomach and chest. “Ahhh~! Oh fuck, Alfred! Hnnnnggg~” He can’t see anything but stars, can’t feel anything but Alfred’s skilled fingers.

“Mmm,” Alfred moans. “That was so good, babe. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Jesus, wasn’t Alfred basically a virgin before they met? Where did that filthy mouth come from?

Oh right, Allen thinks with a self-satisfied grin in his mind. Outwardly, he is still shaking and trying to catch his breath.

Alfred gently lowers Allen’s legs and leans down, dragging his pink tongue over Allen’s bronze skin, lapping up the white viscous fluid all over it. “God, you taste good.”

Allen could cry. He decides then and there that Alfred is too sexy to live and he’ll have to kill him. For the good of humanity. After he gets tired of Alfred’s dick, of course.

As if that would ever happen.

If he could move at all, he would flip them over and impale himself on Alfred and ride him for all he’s worth.

It turns out, he doesn’t need to because the next thing he hears is Alfred’s low, guttural groan above him and the next thing he feels is Alfred’s massive cock filling him completely.

“Fuck.”Alfred sinks all the way in, pausing only for a moment before shifting his hips.

Allen takes a deep breath. “Wait. Just stay like that—oh fuck, always forget you’re so big—I just wanna feel you. For a minute. Please.” He settles himself, as if he were going to cockwarm Alfred (and that thought almost makes him cum again), except he just wants to feel this. His head falls back as his nerves register every inch. “So full,” he moans.

Alfred holds himself over Allen steadily, but his control is clearly slipping. “Love you so hot and loose like this.” His breath catches when Allen reflexively squeezes around him. “You ready?”

“You would know,” Allen replies with a cheeky grin. “Don’t hold back, big boy.”

Alfred rolls his eyes before pulling out and then slamming back in.

At the rhythm Alfred sets, Allen can do nothing but go along for the ride. But wow, what a ride.

Alfred’s almost mindless dirty talk consists entirely of adoring Allen. “You take me so good, babe. So fucking good.”

In a state of pure bliss, Allen focuses only on Alfred, on tightening around Alfred’s cock so Alfred will fill him with cum. It seems to be working as Alfred thrusts in and out, babbling praise for Allen’s body, his voice, his skills as a lover.

The steady rhythm becomes erratic and Allen wraps his legs around Alfred to prevent him from slipping out. Alfred bites down hard on Allen’s shoulder when he cums, hips jerking and cock spasming as Allen’s walls clamp down on him.

Alfred doesn’t pull out when it’s over and Allen loves him for that. He does reposition them so they are spooning. He reaches around and strokes Allen’s half-hard cock. “Just give me a minute,” he says. “Then we can go for round two.”

#americest #smut #wfsn #...god what have I done #XD

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

#zemo x reader #bucky barns x you #winterbaron #winterbaron x you #buckybarnes/zemo #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #winterbaron fic #baron helmut zemo #zemo #self insert #yacht life #these two #i love them so much #also ouch

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