#i just realized hi small weird thumb reveal it seems

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Series

sinag | psh.

chapter ten

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: there’s a slight change from the original one shot. anyway, please send me asks and reblogs are highly recommended! thank you so much, ily.

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

“We found these inside her suite room, Boss.”

Sunghoon rests his liqour over the small table near him then pressed his lit cigarette at the ash tray. His toned muscle flex at his every move. He reaches over the small card Icarus was handing him.

With brows furrowing downward, he silently read the printed name of the company you seem to work at. He didn’t utter a word and just plays with it, falling deep into his own thoughts. The name of the place you’re currently employed in rings a bell. A bit familiar. Like he heard it before.

“We also managed to gather some of her personal belongings.” his eyes darts lazily at the things he laid over the table.

Some identifaction cards and also your passport. He licked his lower lip and stretches his arm to grab your passport. He opens it, revealing your information to him. Your name, birthday, nationality... everything.

“You may take your leave. Make sure there are men guarding her floor.” he instructed without sparing a glance to him. He saw him bowing from his peripheral before he take his leave.

The cold breeze blew towards Sunghoon, making his slightly long hair sways beautifully along with it. His eyes are fixed at your picture and his thumb gently caress it, a ghost of smile spreading across his face.

“Aelia...” he mumbled your name for the very first time. “My Aelia.” he added afterwards.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw hard before fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Brother! I figured you’ll give me a ring sooner or later.” Jake’s voice hints teasing from it.

“You...” he starts, but halts his words.

Sunghoon couldn’t make out his emotions properly. He’s feeling so pissed for his friend keeping something very important to him, but at the same time still overwhelmingly happy after finding you.

“Well,” he can almost hear his smirk from the other line. “did you like my gift for you?”

He threw his head back then heaved a sigh.

“Since when?” he shortly replied, wanting to know more about this sneaky move his friend just pulled. He should’ve known something’s up from how his friend’s been so weird.

“Ever since I tried to sell the company to you.”

Another big and heavy sigh emits from Sunghoon after he realized how long was that. He almost lose his mind searching for you and all this time, his friend knew where you are. He felt betrayed, but a part of him are relieved to know that you are safe.

He flutters his eyes open, brows furrowing hardly at the realization.

“You sold it to me for 10 million? Do you fucking think she’s worth just that?” he seemed insulted like as if he was the one being priced and sold at a lower price. Not that he really sell you, its practically the company but Sunghoon’s being very dramatic.

Jake chuckles finding it hilarious how he didn’t even got mad at him for selling it at a very expensive price. He got offended for taking the interpretation that you only worth that price.

“Dude, I asked for that so I can take care of your girl while you’re busy taking care of some other things.” he finally explains. It made him more calmer, his jaw’s still hardly clenched but at least the idea of beating the shit out of his friend starts to subside.

“Meaning all these time, its you and your money whose taking good care of her. She’s living comfortably thanks to your resources.” he sounded like he’s trying to convince a kid and tricked him into believing that Santa is real.

Sunghoon fell silent, trying to sink Jake’s words inside his mind. He did a good job on revisioning the company and even made it perform well. He’s been updating him about the status of it even though he doesn’t really give much care of it as he was pretty focused on putting the Kwon’s down.

All this time, its not just the company. It was his way of letting him know that his girl is okay and living pretty well.

He draws in a big sigh, totally calmer than before.

“Thank you.”

Jake’s the one silent this time. He was expecting him to appreciate his effort, but not to this extent. He was expecting an earful of curses and death threats from him, but instead this is what he got.

He was amused. Beyond amused how you’ve already started to affect him. He lets out a scoff, couldn’t believe that you have this effect on him. It was just a hunch that you indeed have the potential to soften and tame the monster, but you are powerful. You have this power over him.

“The fuck? Not even a day of meeting her and you’re already under her spell? Who are you? Where’s the real Sunghoon? The real one would’ve cursed me out and will be super pissed at me.”

Sunghoon smirks and rests over the railings of the balcony. His eyes settles beneath the quiet road, it was almost empty as its already three in the morning.

“I am pissed at you.” his stern tone makes it obvious how he means.

“But since you kept her safe 'til this day, I’ll let you go.”

Jake smirks, “Even if your meet up is a little set up?”

“What’s important now is she’s here. She’s really here.” relieve was not the only thing you can hear from his tone. Some are curiosity on what’s about to happen next.

He can think nonstop about the things he wanted to do with you, but first he has to think of how he would explain everything to you. Because from now on, you will live your life with him.

You let out a heavy sigh before grabbing your phone and dialed your boyfriend’s number. Your jaw clenched when you've been directed over to his voice mail. It’s been three days ever since you two talked and you even argued. This is your last night here and so far its so good. Surprisingly nothing bad happened to you, and you don’t want to jinx it at all.

“Hey, Luke.” you said after the beep to leave him yet another voice mail. You didn't know how many you left already but still, you decided to do it again.

“I know you're upset baby. Please let’s talk once I get back there, hm? I love you.” you mumbled and ended it.

You grabbed your coat and key card of your hotel room. It was stressing you out so you wanted to get some fresh air to relieve some stress. It was already late which makes it a bit scary, especially that you're in another city. But you knew you needed some for tonight.

You breath in the fresh air you thought you’ve been needing for a while. You tried smiling as you watch the stars above you shines brightly. You were enjoying your time without even realizing what’s about to unfold.

After finally calming down and clearing your mind out, you decided to head back to your hotel.

On your way, you had this weird feeling that you're being followed. Your heart started thumping fast, specially that there are less people around this area. Terrified that someone really is stalking you, you hurried your steps.

But even before your can reach back to your hotel, you felt a strong grip over your arm. Your heart sank as you open your mouth to shout only to be covered by your captor. He held you firmly then covered your nose with a handkerchief making your eyes grew big and you tried to get away from their grip but it was too late.

The last thing you remember is how you slowly lose your strength, knees falling weakly. The person held you close to him and even whispered things you couldn’t understand as you lost consciousness. In the end, you felt them carrying you.

Sunghoon smiles as he stared down at your unconscious body over his arms. His men opened his car door for him and he puts you inside carefully.

“Have you prepared the hotel room I asked you?” he asks Icarus as he checks if your position inside his vehicle is okay.

“Yes, boss.”

He nods and Sunghoon walks around towards the driver’s seat. He glanced at your side before smiling again, reaching over your face to gently brush away the hairs covering it.

At the arrival to the hotel, Sunghoon parked his sports car right in front while his men's vehicle surrounds his for protection. The staffs of the hotel hurries themselves to stand right in front of it to welcome him. They've been informed about the vip that will stay at the top floor of the hotel, and after knowing its Park Sunghoon they couldn't help but to feel nervous.

After-all, he’s known for his bad temper.

“Welcome Mr. P-Park.” the head of the hotel stutters as he bows along with his staffs.

Sunghoon didn’t pay much attention to them as he asks for his room card. Some of the staff noticed him carrying your unconscious body, tears on the sides of your eyes. Just by the looks of it, they knew you didn’t come here voluntarily.

None of them asked anything about you, nobody even dared to look at your direction longer than fiver seconds.

The moment he managed to get the keys to your room, Sunghoon struts towards the elevator along with Icarus and some of his men.

“Should we tie her hands?” Icarus asks.

Sunghoon’s eyes darted at your wrist. His assistant is already getting ready to tie her when he stopped him.

“No. I don’t want it hurting her wrists.” he says too softly and then sat at the side of the bed to look at your sleeping state.

He wiped off the tears at the corner of your eyes and using his thumb, he caress your cheeks.

“My love, you are finally here with me.” he whispers.

He sighs, “You are so beautiful.” and he roams his eyes over your pretty face. He’s still in trance. Despite being able to hold you and touch you like this, sometimes he still can’t help but to think that he is dreaming.

Scared that this are just his illusions, he somewhat wished not to wake up from this. If it means he will be with you, he don’t want to leave. He wants to be where you are and where he can have you like this.

“Sir, Mr. Sim called saying he needs to discuss something with you.” he sighs and nods his head before standing up.

“Leave some of our men inside the room incase she tries to escape or do something that can hurt her.” he reminds his men before leaving the room.

With a low grunt, you slowly opened your eyes only to be greeted by an unfamiliar room. Your head aches in attempt to recover memories from last night. It was just then you remembered that you were abducted.

Fear spread across your chest as you roamed your eyes around, sitting up from the bed. There are men wearing familiar suits. You’ve seen it before, you just don’t have any idea where.

“W-Where am I? Who are you?!” you asked frantically and tears spreads across your face.

Even when you are crying, they seem to don't mind. They are just standing at the corners of the room, two by the door.

You don’t know how many hours that you’re passed out, but you knew its been a while. Your throat felt dry from crying and screaming. One of them did offered water, but you refused. You’re afraid that they put something in it.

The fact that this is happening on your last day of the trip makes you go crazy. Nothing good really happens whenever you go out of the country. Everything seems to be find until you got abducted by these people. This time, you think this will really be the end of your life.

Dark thoughts starts to occupy your mind. Will they kill you and sell your organs to the black market? Probably. Or put you into slavery. That’s just so awful. A lot of bad scenarious flashes through your mind and it was making you feel much terrible.

The door then burst open, making you jolt a bit. Soon, a man walks inside. His eyes looked at your way and he bows politely which caught you off-guard. The other guys around seems to look up on him so you assumed he have more power than them, so why is he bowing at you?

“The boss will see you in a bit.” Icarus said, informing you about Sunghoon’s plan to visit you.

The boss? Your brows furrows hardly at his statement, but kept your mouth shut. Tears still pool your eyes, cries a little more silent than before. If he isn’t the boss, you can still try to convince him to let you go. You can beg him. Tell him that your you have terrible health so your organs won’t sell good.

“Please let me go.” you begged him softly, eyes glistening with so much emotion.

Icarus stared at you with blank look over his eyes. He sighs and glanced away, trying to talk to some of the men reminding them of what to do next once the boss arrives.

Your heart fell. He didn’t even say anything or even talked to you.

Not long after, you heard the door opening and it revealed some ethereal looking guy. His hair was brushed up and it looked so soft, his face blank and seems like he’s the one in-charge. So much power he holds just by walking inside the room.

You can’t properly describe it. He just have this aura. He’s wearing a suit that perfectly fits him, showing off his model like proportions. It feels so illegal to see him walking here and not on runways.

Both of your eyes met and you are a bit taken aback because he’s very good-looking! His skin was fairly white and his features were beautiful altogether. He’s very intimidating too.

“Did you hurt her?” his voice ringed inside your head. He was asking the guys around but his eyes never left yours.

You gulped and even if you’re feeling very scared and intimidated, you raised your chin up and stared back at him. You glared and clenched your jaw to keep them from shaking.

“No, boss.” one of them answered. As expected, he is the one in-charge.

He nodded and slowly walked closer to you. If he’s good-looking from afar, he’s breath-taking up close. He looked so handsome and intimidating at the same time. Those moles all over his face sure add some charms in him.

“I’ve been searching the whole world for you, love.” He softly mumbled before he raised his hand to caress your cheeks carefully like as if you’re something so fragile.

Something about his caress lit something inside your stomach go crazy. It was definitely wrong because he was the one who abducted you and he’s probably a bad guy. Not to mention that you have a boyfriend but for some reasons, you cannot help it. There’s something about his gentle touch and his staring expressive eyes.

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[petalsnow]

Best Friend (18+)

bang chan x felix 

word count: 3.4k 

genre: smut, fluff - 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI 

warnings: non-idol au, friends to lovers, dom!chan, sub!felix, swearing, excessive alcohol consumption, both characters are under the influence, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this), cumming inside (don’t do this), praise kink, degradation kink, confessions of love.. i think that covers it but if i missed something let me know! 

summary: no matter how hard felix tries, he just can’t shake his feelings for chan.. but he never expected him to feel the same way. 

this is a fictional story. nothing in this fan-fiction represents felix, bang chan, or stray kids as a whole, NOR does it represent their relationships between each other. read at your own risk. 

18+ content below the cut. 

———

felix knew for a while now. he was painfully aware of the feelings he had for his best friend. but that was the problem, and the root of all of this weird tension between them. he was supposed to be his best friend. felix grew up with chan. they were neighbors, classmates, and even part of the same dance group throughout high school. but as time passed, their hang outs grew scarce and their communication dwindled down significantly. after all, they’re both in college now. both busy with their studies and part time jobs. this is whenever felix started to realize his feelings for chan weren’t just the average “bromance” type. he found himself thinking about chan late at night, his chest tightening from the pain of missing him so much. he often would lay in bed and scroll through his camera roll, eyes grazing over pictures of the two of them throughout the years. he hated the feeling. it felt wrong, it felt pathetic. felix of course has no idea how chan feels about him, but he can only assume it’s not mutual. it would be strange if it was.. they’re practically brothers… (felix tries to convince himself). after many long and painful nights of missing his friend, felix decides it would be a good idea to text chan and ask him to hang out. it’s been a few months since the last time they saw each other, it doesn’t seem like a weird request. felix opens up their message thread and finds himself twiddling his thumbs, overthinking what he wants to send. after several back spaces and heavy sighs, he finally decides to press send: felix: hey! i have break from classes today if you want to come over and drink or something. he figures that sounds casual enough and nervously waits for his reply. which comes sooner than he expected, and the blonde headed boy’s head shoots up quickly at the chime of his phone channie: felix! hey!! of course, i’ll be over within the next hour if that sounds okay. i’ll bring some soju. felix finds himself unable to fight the smile that is now beaming across his face and quickly texts back, felix: sounds great bro, see you then. the casual “bro” was thrown in there of course, on purpose. ———

felix has been getting ready for the entirety of the hour that chan said it would take him to arrive at his apartment. changing his outfit five times, changing his hairstyle, and even applying a small amount of makeup just to brighten his eyes and cover a few of his unwanted blemishes.

he is staring at himself in his full length mirror, his final look consists of a comfortable white tee, a oversized light brown cardigan, and some comfy grey sweats. he didn’t want to dress up too much and give himself away.. but he did want to look appealing, and felix is convinced he did just that.

he’s tidying up his hair when he hears three knocks to his front door and his heart inevitably leaps in his chest, he gives himself a final look over and all but sprints to the source of the noise. he takes a deep breath before twisting the nob and revealing his (handsome) “best friend”.

“ahhh felix!” the older boy grins from ear to ear, pulling the smaller boy in for a warm embrace. “how have you been?? i feel like it’s been forever” he adds

“i’ve been good, same shit different day. you know how it is.” felix responds casually, trying not to reveal the enormous smile he now posses.

“ah yes, i get it dude.” he groans in agreement as he pulls away “want me to throw the soju in the fridge?” he questions as he brushes past felix and enters the apartment.

“yeah, that’s perfect” felix nods, shutting the door as his friend heads into the kitchen. felix awkwardly clears his throat, trying to keep himself as nonchalant as possible “how have you been?” he chimes as he follows behind him.

“tired, stressed, exhausted.. the usual” his friend chuckles, taking two bottles of soju out of the pack before placing the rest in the fridge. he smiles, handing one to his friend. “but that’s what these are for.” he smirks.

felix laughs and happily takes the bottle into his hand, twisting the metal cap off. “we both going to drink a bottle by ourselves?” he quirks an eye brow, taking his first sip before chan can reply.

“just like old times.” chan grins back at him, taking a gulp of the liquid down like a champ. “plus, if i don’t drink this whole thing, i don’t think i would be half as enjoyable to be around with how stressed i’ve been lately” he adds.

before felix has time to process what he’s saying he replies with, “you’re always enjoyable to me.” and his face quickly turns a light shade of pink at his abrupt honestly. “j-just because we always have such a good time together.. ya know?” he clears his throat, breaking the intense eye contact with his friend.

chan giggles and walks over to felix to ruffle his hair “of course i know what you mean, i don’t think you’d keep me around for this long if you didn’t enjoy my company.” he says playfully before squinting a little a felix with the newly established proximity. “are you wearing makeup?” he cocks his head

felix swears he could shit himself right there on the kitchen floor. his pink cheeks now turning a deep shade of red. “yeah.. just a little insecure with my acne lately..” he tries to play it off, shoving chan playfully (and so he won’t be so close to notice such details).

“ahh, i’m sorry for pointing it out then” he replies. “come on, let’s go chill in the living room, i’m tired of standing” chan smiles and walks comfortably through his friends apartment, like he owns the place. which, he may as well, he’s been here more times than he can count.

felix silently agrees and plops himself on the opposite side of the couch from chan.

they spend a while catching up, their soju bottles growing lighter and lighter as each minute passes. trips to the fridge are made to retrieve more, several times.

hours have passed now and the sun has fallen from the sky, the apartment lit up only by the glow of the TV screen. empty soju bottles are littered across felix’s floor and both boys are laughing and throwing their heads back over the couch.

“bro, no way you told a girl you loved her on the FIRST DATE?” felix asks in purse disbelief, the alcohol molding him into a bold and now (very) loud person

“and that is why i will never drink tequila on the first date ever again..” chan groans as he hides his face, unable to keep himself from laughing as felix cracks up at this embarrassing story.

their laughter dies down before felix adds to the conversation again, “i haven’t been on any dates in forever, i just don’t have the interest in any girls around here i guess” he shrugs, toying with one of the bottle caps in his hand.

“really? i figured you’d have a list of girls lined up waiting to beat down your door.” chan responds, taking the last sip of the last bottle of soju before resting it on the coffee table close to the couch.

felix chuckles at this and flicks the bottle cap in chan’s direction. “could say the same for you.”

chan catches the cap and flicks it back at felix with a small grin. “sort of, but none of them have kept my interest. more of a one night stand kind of guy lately.”

the bottle cap drops to the floor from chan’s poor aim and felix, now without any distraction, looks up to meet his friend’s gaze.

“i don’t know if could do one night stands.. i feel like i get attached too easily” felix sighs sweetly.

“you always were the hopeless romantic type” chan smiles softly, shifting his position on the couch to fully face felix. “it’s cute.”

felix gulps, sobering up a little at his comment. “t-thanks. it’s kind of embarrassing actually.. it gets lonely” he swallows hard.

chan frowns at his friends response “you can always call me, yeah? you don’t have to isolate yourself”

“no i just mean.. it gets lonely like, romantically. i constantly crave affection and physical touch but most people just want a one time thing and i just can’t see myself being okay with that.” felix explains, toying with a button on his cardigan.

“i know that’s what you meant.. my offer still stands.” chan replies, confidence never wavering in his tone.

felix can’t help but quickly look up, meeting his eyes in a small panic. he doesn’t know if he’s reading too much into it or if chan is trying to hint at what he thinks he’s trying to hint at.. he opens his mouth to reply but chan beats him to it.

“i like you felix.” chan adds, boldly. the alcohol has clearly taken over at this point.

felix blinks hard, at a loss for words. “w-what do you mean?” he asks

“i like you, more than just a friend.” chan clarifies for him. “i’ve felt this way for a while, but we’ve been best friends our entire life and it always just felt so wrong, so i’ve never mentioned it before or made a move.” he shrugs, “but i’m super drunk right now and i’m tired of keeping it in.. so here it is” he nods, looking away from felix and down at the couch in an attempt to make him less uncomfortable.

felix’s adams apple visibly bobs from how hard he gulps, he feels like he’s dreaming. because there is absolutely no way chan just confessed his love for him. after a few seconds of awkward silence, felix finally finds the courage to reply.

“i feel the same way..” he says, barely above a whisper. “… that’s why i wore makeup, and invited you over..” his words slurring “shit, i spent an entire hour getting ready for you…” he’s pouring out now.

chan’s heart aches in his chest at the boy’s innocent confession. “you did all of that for me?” he asks.

“yeah, all for you.” felix nods, still fidgeting with his cardigan. “i love you channie..” his voice cracking, his feelings that have been pent up for years, overflowing thanks to the soju.

“oh felix..” chan trails off, shifting his position to move closer to him, taking felix’s hands into his own to rub his thumb over them. “i’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner.” a sadness washing over his expression

felix sniffles, a small tear escaping one of his eyes. “it’s not your fault, i would’ve never expected you to feel the same anyways.” he whimpers

“i do.. i always have.” chan comforts him, removing his hand from felix’s grasp to wipe the tear off his cheek. “no crying, you’ll mess up your makeup.” he smiles softly, felix’s eyes finally meeting his own.

“kiss me, please..” felix quietly begs.

chan doesn’t need any further encouragement before pressing his lips into felix’s. it’s soft, loving, and warm. chan’s body pressing further into felix as the kiss deepens, felix’s hands finding their way to rest on either side of chan’s face.

the kiss quickly grows more aggressive and sloppy, the sexual tension growing thicker as chan grinds himself into the boy underneath him.

“fuck, we have to stop. i don’t know if i can control myself if we keep going.” chan pulls away from the kiss, catching his breath.

“what makes you think i want you to control yourself?” felix asks, searching chan’s eyes, his hands still resting on his friend’s cheeks.

chan all but melts into felix at his words. “you’re going to kill me.” he growls, dipping his head down to attack felix’s neck with open mouth kisses.

“nooo, you can’t die. you haven’t even fucked me yet.” felix giggles at chan’s desperation and because his kisses tickle there.

chan chuckles are his response and leans back to remove his own shirt, revealing his toned physique.

felix looks up at him in awe. “you’ve.. really been working out lately.” he trails off, mesmerized by the image on display before him.

“yeah, to attract cute little twinks like you.” chan winks before tossing the shirt across the room and leaning back down to reattach their lips.

felix whimpers at the new contact, his fingernails lightly scratching against chan’s back. “need you now.” he manages to get out between kisses.

“i thought you’d never ask” chan mutters before tugging off felix’s cardigan and tee shirt, quickly tossing them across the room as well. “you’re perfect” he moans, drinking in the boy’s small build.

felix blushes, crashing his lips back into the older boy instead of trying to think of a good response. both of the boys have grown rock hard, their bulges rubbing against another at their make out session continues.

“god, felix. i can’t take it anymore, i need you now.” chan moans. shifting to lay on his back. felix crawls i between his legs, slowly tugging at the waist band of chan’s sweatpants.

“can i?” felix asks politely, his innocent doe eyes staring into chan’s.

“fuck yes, of course.” chan’s nods quickly, leaning back into the couch as the boy removes his pants in a swift motion.

“no underwear?” felix cocks his head to the side, nestling himself between chan’s legs.

“never” chan chuckles, resting his head against the arm of the couch to watch felix’s performance.

felix hums softly and takes chan’s length into his small hand, giving it gentle strokes at a steady pace.

chan whimpers, closing his eyes at the pleasurable sight and feeling. “feels perfect ‘lix.”

felix smiles at the pet name as chan’s dick grows harder in his hand, before softly placing his mouth over his erection.

he has a hard time fitting it all at first, but as he gets more comfortable with the size, he begins moving his head faster and deeper.

“s-shit” chan swears, his hips slightly bucking upwards to meet felix’s warm and heavenly mouth. “you’re… so fucking good at this.” chan gasps, running his hand through the top of felix’s hair, slightly pushing his head further down onto his cock.

felix moans around his dick at the small gesture of dominance, which encourages him to go deeper.

chan feels like he’s going to explode, his moans grow louder and he feels a fire burning in his abdomen. he lets felix continue for a couple minutes before he just can’t take it anymore.

“get off, i’m going to fuck you now.” chan asserts, pulling felix off his cock, quickly removing the younger boys sweats in the process.

chan scoffs at felix’s lack of underwear too. “no underwear?” he parrots to the blonde.

“never.” felix retorts with a cheeky smile, chan placing a sweet kiss to his mouth before turning the small boy around and bending him over.

“shit, do you have condoms?” chan snaps out of his lustful spell, checking around the room

“i’m clean..” felix mutters beneath him

“you sure you’re okay with this..?” chan trails off, rubbing the small of felix’s back “i can go get condoms if you want me to.” he reassures him

“no, i’m sure channie.” felix whimpers “please, just fuck me already.” he begs

and just like that, chan’s lustful spell has taken him over again. chan bends down to lick a bold stripe over felix’s tight hole, eating him out quickly but effectively to get him prepped for what’s to come.

felix mewls at the sudden contact and pushes his hips into chan’s touch, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“as delicious as you taste, i can’t wait anymore, need to feel you ‘lix” chan moans, rising back up to line his cock up with felix’s wet and swollen hole before slowly pushing into him.

“oh fuck… holy shit” chan growls, pushing in and out of the younger boy slowly, setting a soft pace at first. “you’re so fucking tight.”

felix is a whimpering mess beneath the muscular boy, toys curling and back arching. “y-you’re my first.” felix confesses in a high pitch.

“damn right, and i’ll be your last.” chan grunts, slowly increasing his place, caressing felix’s back as he adjusts to his size.

the more comfortable felix gets, the more his ass starts meeting chan half way between each stroke. the room is filled with both of their moans, and the sound of felix’s ass against chan’s dick.

“channie, you’re so big, i fucking love your dick.” felix moans out, gripping the couch cushion beneath him.

“yeah? you’re gonna lose your mind on my cock baby?” chan encourages him, smirking as he slams his cock into his sub. “gonna make you forget how to speak, turn you into such a good cock slut just for me to use.” a hard slap landing on felix’s ass.

felix let’s out a small scream, his eyes welling up in tears at the over stimulation and effect that chan’s words have on him. “p-please, just want to be yours.” felix whines.

“you’re already mine, no need to beg baby boy.” chan grunts, leaning down to press kisses to the back of felix’s neck, wrapping an arm around the small boy to support his collapsing body.

felix melts into his touch, eyes closed and mouth open wide as he lets out the most beautiful sounds chan has ever heard.

“channie.. g-gonna cum.” felix barely manages to get out, gasping for air.

“that’s my good boy, cum for daddy baby. i know you can. show me.” chan encourages in felix’s ear, increasing his pace as felix slowly reaches his climax.

with a loud moan and a tightening grip on one of chan’s thighs, felix let’s go. his cum drenching the couch beneath their bodies, his chest heaving as his high passes over him.

chan peppers kisses all across felix’s neck and down his back as the boy comes down from his high, his pace slowed down significantly.

felix collapses underneath him, trying to catch his breath. chan chuckles softly and maneuvers felix to lay on his back now, their eyes meeting again.

“hey” chan smiles down at him, felix wrapping his legs around chan. “you gonna come back to me?” he asks, felix’s gaze still miles from him, lost in pure bliss.

felix flutters his eyes and draws in a deep breath before nodding at chan’s question. a soft smile creeping across his freckled cheeks.

“you gonna be okay if we go a little longer?” chan questions, placing soft kisses to his cheeks. “i’m almost there.” he reassures him.

“yeah, want you to finish too.” felix sighs sweetly, leaning into chan’s touch.

“okay baby, let me know if it’s too much.” chan adds, and felix nods before chan realigns himself with felix before sliding back into him.

“perfect..” chan whispers “perfect for me.”

his pace is more steady now, deep and slow stroke into felix. he won’t last long now.

“love you channie, love you so much.” felix whines, back arching off of the couch

“god damn it, i love you more felix.” chan groans loudly, his pace growing sloppier at the younger boy’s confession.

chan lands a few more strokes before he meets his climax

“god, i’m cumming baby.” chan throws his head back as felix tightens around him.

“inside, please channie.” felix begs him, spreading his legs further

that’s all it takes to send chan over the edge, emptying himself into felix’s tight hole with a loud moan.

his jerks his hips into felix a couple more times, making sure he gets every drop into him before slowly pulling out and falling onto his back into the couch.

both of the boys catching their breath before either of them break the silence.

felix is the first to slowly sit up, peering over at chan who is still trying to process what happened. felix crawls over chan’s body, arms on either side of him, caging him in.

“you still just a one night stand type of guy?” felix playfully cocks his head to the side.

“shut up and kiss me.” chan rolls his eyes before felix giggles and presses a kiss to his lips.

“i’ve waited for this my whole life” chan whispers, meeting felix’s eyes

“you have no idea..” felix whispers back, eyes glazing over with tears.

———

the end :) i hope you enjoyed <3 

[standfucker]

More Than Enough

Extremely belated birthday gift for @nekomacheercaptain, thanks for being a great friend these past few months! Hope it was worth the wait, thanks for your patience!

Characters: Rosinante

Reader: Cis Fem

Word Count: 11,898

CW: fluff, explicit N.SFW content, established relationship, lots of smooches, shy reader, chubby reader, lil bit of soft dom Rosi, body worship, praise, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving,) fingering, vaginal penetration, size difference, size kink, big insertion, belly bulge, slight bit of hurt/comfort, reader does not finish but has a great time so it’s all good

Summary: When Rosinante discovers that your birthday's coming up, he does what he can to make it special.

Ao3 Link

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

Rosinante’s call of your name pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink, now back in reality, and look his way. At this distance, you can see his concerned frown under the red paint, pointed opposite of the harlequin curves.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine,” you reply quietly.

“You seem distracted.”

His eyes are soft. It’s not something you would ever see around the family. To the outside world, they are cold and aloof, all out of necessity. But the way he looks at you in private–it’s like he’s a completely different person.

All Rosinante had done was comment on the date, and you had gone quiet, a realization setting in that you didn’t know how to feel about. Knowing the stakes as you do, this long after he had divulged his secret to you, it seems trivial. Now that you’re both playing this deadly game of pretend under Doflamingo’s nose, what does it matter?

You play with the hem of your sleeve, thumb sliding across the worn threads for stimulation and comfort, a nervous habit. Rosi’s eyes settle on your busy fingers. He knows it means you’re agitated, you’re pretty sure. He’s frighteningly observant.

“It’s nothing, really,” you try to dismiss, hoping to avoid the conversation altogether.

Rosinante hesitates, unsure if he should pry. He hates making you uncomfortable, but you can tell he wants you to confide in him–he told you as much, after all, those many months ago when he revealed his voice.

“I’ve told you my secret. In exchange, you tell me yours, and we’ll call it even.”

Guilt stirs uncomfortably in your chest. Rosinante had long since earned your trust, hadn’t he? He would probably want to know.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday tomorrow,” you finally admit. “I completely forgot about it, to be honest, until just now when you mentioned the date.”

His reaction is as you feared–shock slowly morphing into excitement, his lips curling up to match the direction of the face paint. He starts to speak.

“We should do somethi–”

“No!” you cut him off, surprising you both. Then you cringe at your outburst, giving him an apologetic look. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. Birthdays can be a weird time for me. I don’t know that I want to celebrate.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

The disappointment in that little ‘oh’ reinforces the guilt. You try not to overthink it–you’re too tired from the mission Doflamingo assigned you two to let minor stresses pile up now. At least you and Rosinante had finished up early. There were still two more days until you were scheduled to meet the Numancia Flamingo, from which you would be sailing to the next island, only a day’s travel away. 

For now, you took temporary refuge in a recently-abandoned house on the outskirts of town. It meant that for the next 48 hours, neither you nor Rosinante had to pretend. He seemed aware of the shrinking span of time you had left, because he had been touchier since the mission ended, even for him.

“It’s just…” Rosi takes your hand, dwarfing it in his. His thumb sweeps over your knuckles, his go-to gesture when you’re anxious.  “I want to do something for you.”

“I knew you would,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, because of course he would. He cares fiercely, as you've come to find out, for his loved ones–and somehow, somewhere along the line, you'd become one of them. It’s only natural he’d want to celebrate. And while you don’t know if you have the mental energy for an outing tomorrow, you wonder if you can make a compromise. Indulge him in indulging you.

“Spend time with me?” you suggest. “Just me and you staying in tomorrow, keeping each other company, doing absolutely nothing. That would be more than enough.”

That was what you needed. To relax for a day, to have no expectations, to give your nerves time to come down. Having Rosinante by your side for that seems like a pretty good birthday gift to you.

“You want to do nothing?” he questions, uncertain.

“Yep.” 

Uncertainty turns to thoughtfulness. You know he’s tired, too.

“...I suppose we have earned a break.”

Rosinante holds you close when you go to bed that night, one huge arm across your torso tucking you against his chest like you're a stuffed animal. Your hands come to rest on his arm. He’s solid and warm against your back, bringing a sense of safety you’d never really felt in your life before knowing him.

With privacy among the family nearly impossible to find, you soak in each other’s presence as much as you can in these rare opportunities. He kisses the top of your head before settling, and you squeeze his arm in response.

“I love you,” he says sleepily.

That has you twisting in place, rolling over to face him. Even in the dark, you can clearly see those soft eyes looking down at you fondly.

Why? A part of you wants to ask. But you don’t. There will be plenty of time for doubts once you’re back around his brother. Right now, it’s just you, Rosinante, and the delicate, wild thing that’s bloomed between you this past year. Candid, honest, and trusting. The ‘why’ doesn’t matter.

So you say, “I love you too,” and you look into those adoring eyes of his when you do, to let him know you mean it.

Even as tired as he is, Rosinante’s smile is bright and giddy, more like a schoolboy whose crush held his hand rather than a three-meter tall grown man. He bends down to kiss you, and you stretch to meet him, freeing your arms from between your bodies so you can hold his face to yours.

He's holding you almost too tightly as he falls asleep, but the pressure is soothing, and once he dozes off, his grip loosens. You both tend to move in your sleep, you more so than him, so you’re not surprised to no longer be in contact when you wake the next morning. But when you reach your arm out to the other side of the bed, seeking his warmth, you find that it’s empty.

You sit up, right in time to hear the front door open. On instinct, you get tense, battle-weary nerves anticipating a possible enemy. But then you hear a thump, followed by Rosinante’s yelp, and you know all is well.

As you’d expected, a single night’s sleep wasn’t enough to ease your tension after the stresses of the mission. You’re still tired as you stretch and rise, briefly debating on just going back to sleep but deciding you wouldn’t rest as well without Rosinante there anyway.

You find him in the kitchen. There’s a bag with crumpled take-out boxes on the table, likely smashed during his fall.

“Good morning,” Rosinante says merrily, rubbing a new sore spot on his head. “Happy birthday!”

Right. Your birthday. The momentary blank look on your face makes Rosi chuckle.

“Did you forget again?”

“Um… Maybe?” you say sheepishly, pulling out a chair to plop into.

“Well, I didn’t,” he says, his proud look turning into a slight cringe when he removes the crushed boxes from the bag. He slides one over to you. “Got us breakfast. Should be intact.”

The boxes have the logo of what must be a local diner. Inside is a stack of heart-shaped waffles. Thankfully, being flat, they survived the fall without being ruined. There’s little containers of butter and syrup inside with them, upturned but miraculously still closed.

“Oh, it smells so good!” Your mouth is already watering–restaurant food was always a welcome change from boat food. “Thank you, Corazon! I was so drained from this week, I didn’t even think about what we’d eat today.”

“Sure." He beams at your response, proud of himself again. “We can figure out lunch and dinner later.”

After breakfast, you check on the laundry you had hung up the day prior. Sweat, dirt, blood–not a trace of the mission remains on them. Washing the bloodstains out of clothing by yourself had always felt sinister, like you were covering up your crimes. Doing it next to Rosinante, for some reason, was different. With him, it felt more like a cleansing ritual–sitting side by side, working to return your attire, and by extension, yourselves, to a state of normalcy. Afraid he would get the stain remover into his eyes somehow, you had forcibly taken over for him. After some initial protesting, he acquiesced, sitting you in his lap as you worked, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

Everything is dry except for Rosinante’s black feather coat, the thick material still damp to the touch. There are spots along the shoulders where the feathers are scratchy and stiff from having been singed, but the rest is soft. You run your hand over it, then lean in to sniff the garment without really thinking about it. Even having been washed, it still smells like him, a comforting mix of his natural scent and nicotine.

“Is it dry?”

Rosinante’s voice behind you makes you jerk away from the coat, face flushing warm. His goofy smile and the dusting of pink on his cheeks tells you that you’ve been caught.

“N-No, it’s not,” you say quickly. “Might be a while before it is, so try not to get that one dirty again soon…”

Rosinante’s smile widens, playful. “I guess that detergent smells pretty good, doesn’t it?”

The detergent you had on hand last night was unscented. He’s messing with you. 

“Cora…” The heat creeps further up your cheeks.

“All sweet and floral,” he continues.

“Cora.”

“Or is it the cigarette smell you like?”

“Rosinante!” you say firmly.

He rubs the back of his neck, grinning apologetically. “Sorry, love. I’m done.” 

The teasing is relatively new, something he didn’t start doing until you became fully comfortable with each other. You’re not used to it yet. It’s a bit frustrating how easily it gets to you, but you also know that on the rare moments you get the nerve to tease him back, he falls apart worse than you do.

Rosinante starts heading your way, but hesitates at the clotheslines strung across the yard. They’re at chest height to him, perfect to get tangled up in. You shake your head as you take down the last of the dry garments. At least he’s self-aware. (If only it was enough to prevent accidents.) You approach him so he doesn’t have to take the risk, and he holds his arms out, offering to take the clothes off your hands.

Rosinante's blushing when you set the bundle in his arms, and he doesn’t move right away, looking down at you with a bashful grin.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I like when you call me Rosinante.”

It’s not the first time he’s told you that, but you still get a bit flustered, averting your eyes like you haven’t slept together before. The last time he said that, he added, “but it can’t become habit,” concerned that it would potentially give you two away if it slipped out in front of the family.

This time, he must not be worrying about it, because he adds in a lower voice, “I like ‘Rosi’ even better.”

That makes you heat right back up again, and you fidget in place. “I thought you said you were done,” you mutter, poorly suppressing a smile. 

“Ah, that’s right! I’m sorry. You’re just so cute, it’s hard to help.”

You shove your face into the pile of clothes he’s holding to hide the furious blush that must be tinting your skin, muffling your whine. “Rosi…”

“There it is.” He leans over and kisses the back of your head. “Mwah~! Come on, let’s go inside.”

Rosinante insists on folding the laundry, since you did most of the washing. He sits down to work, and you drape yourself against his back, your arms hanging over his shoulders and your face buried into his neck. He’s so tall compared to you that you have to be standing up to do so.

“Aren’t you tired, baby? You don’t wanna sit?” he asks.

“I’m good here,” you mumble, more than content to be close. 

Taking advantage of the fact that your heads are currently level for once, Rosinante turns his head to kiss you, first on your nose, then your cheek, working his way down with soft pecks. Your giggle is cut off when he reaches your lips, his eyes fluttering closed. Responding eagerly, you angle your head for better access, making him hum in satisfaction.

“Don’t let me distract you, Rosi,” you whisper.

“How can I not be when you’re right here?” he whispers back. “Radiant as a star, with none of the family around to disturb your light.”

Given your eye bags and messy hair, you’re not sure where he’s getting ‘radiant,’ but at the same time, you understand–you’ve seen him dirtied, bloodied, and exhausted and still especially found him attractive. But you're not used to such compliments, no matter how often he gives them. The flattery is always overwhelming, because no one's really spoken to you that way before him.

At your doubtful look, Rosinante opens his mouth to add something. You know it's going to be more praise, and you're already blushing, so you shut him up with a kiss, small hands holding his face to pull him right back in.

At some point while he’s folding clothes, you’re suddenly hit by the domesticity of it. In another life, this could be your reality: Mundane. No stakes. No risking your life. Just the day-to-day upkeep that you would share, together. Maybe it’s still possible someday. Maybe, if you’re lucky, this could be your future. You hold him a little tighter at the thought, and his sigh of contentment is like warmth in sound form, melting away doubts and worries.

All that the prior house occupants had left behind in the pantry are an unopened jar of coconut oil, a tin of stale crackers, and some half-empty spice containers, so despite your initial plan to stay in, the two of you decide to go into town for lunch. The weather’s nice for an outing anyway, sunny and temperate with a light breeze. You hold hands as you walk and discuss your plans, settling on getting lunch from a restaurant and then buying some groceries to make dinner yourselves. 

You’ve finished with lunch and are walking to the market when a storefront catches your eye, the rows of transponder snails sitting by the window standing out. They’re arranged in a neat display, though their purpose isn’t immediately obvious, as it doesn’t look like a typical snail-breeding operation. Rosinante encourages your curiosity, and the both of you duck into the store to see what’s going on. The clerk is happy to explain–the snails are actually visual transponder snails available to rent, each one having memorized three films they can project. It’s your first time seeing such a service, and you can’t help but be impressed as you browse the options, each snail resting next to a card with its films listed.

“Three entire films, huh?” you muse, picking up one of the snails and scratching along its shell until it purrs. “That’s pretty impressive. Aren’t you neat, you cute little thing?”

The snail withdraws slightly into its shell, eyestalks still poking out, but it won’t look at you, which makes you giggle. “Aww, Cora, I think it’s shy.”

Rosinante glances at the store clerk, currently a ways away but still within earshot, and then snaps his fingers, creating a small bubble of silence around the two of you. At this point, you recognize the ability when it manifests, though you don’t know why he chose to use it right then, especially so close to a civilian.

“It reminds me of someone,” Rosinante says cheekily, clownish grin stretching when you predictably get flustered. 

So he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the clerk, but still felt that teasing you was necessary enough to risk being seen using his power? Before you can come up with a clever retort or admonishment, however, he drops the bubble, forcing you to keep it to yourself lest you sound like a crazy person. You try to communicate your disapproval with a pointed look, which promptly fails on account of your blush and only serves to make him chuckle.

After you pick out a snail and continue on your way to the market, you’ve calmed down enough that your stern expression actually comes off as stern.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you chide, “taking such a risk just for the sake of teasing me. Really, Corazon…”

“Well, I won’t be able to once we meet up with the family,” he says casually, “I’m trying to get it all out of my system while I can.”

“Is that even possible for you?” you joke as you side-eye him, knowing full well that Rosinante can be a bit… unhinged, at times.

That harlequin grin returns. “Maybe not, but I don’t think you mind nearly as much as you act like you do.”

There was that keen observation of his again. Sometimes you could be apprehensive over just how well he knew you. But other times, on those long nights where you were stuck deep in your own head, and he would just know without you saying a thing, and he would come to your side and wordlessly hold you close–those times reminded you that this was what trust was supposed to be like. Even if a small, dark part of you kept waiting to be taken advantage of, it never happened.

“Even so,” Rosinante adds, “if it’s too much, you know, just say the word. I’ll stop.”

A sharp swell of gratitude in you threatens to form tears, and you look away from him, taking a deep breath to hold it in. What did you do to deserve him? To show you’re not upset, you squeeze his hand, but he still picks up on your distress, lightly returning the pressure.

“Y/n?” he questions.

“I’m okay.” You compose yourself with another breath and smile up at him. “I love you, Rosi. That’s all.”

Rosinante’s cheeks turn a shade of pink that matches the hearts on his shirt. Then, breaking out into a delighted grin, he picks you right off of the ground in a tight hug. You immediately wrap your arms and legs around him in turn, both of you giggling.

“As hard as the mission was,” you say, “I’m glad it was just us two. I’m glad I don’t have to spend my birthday with anyone else.”

“Me too.” Rosinante kisses your cheek, and you push him away half-heartedly.

“You’ll smear your paint again.”

“So what?”

“We’re trying not to stand out, remember?”

His huffy pout is so childish it makes you giggle again. 

“You’re right…”

After you return to the house and put the groceries away, you spend the next hour or so unwinding from the trip. There’s a bookshelf in the living room with a variety of paperbacks, so you take advantage, each picking out one that looks interesting. Rosinante manages to knock the entire bookshelf over somehow, getting pelted by a small avalanche of books. Once you help put them away, the two of you curl up against each other to read on the rather large couch in the living room, big enough to hold even his bulk. The exhaustion from the previous week still lingers, as you both end up falling asleep, you leaning on his broad chest and soothed by the lullaby drumming of his heartbeat.

When you wake up next, you finally feel refreshed. Coming back to consciousness to the feel of his large body against yours is a soul-deep comfort, one you wish you could enjoy more often. If only you didn’t have to hide your relationship… You idly trace formless shapes on his chest, mulling the thought over like you have hundreds of times before, and he begins to stir.

The slight movement draws your attention. Rosinante had passed out hard enough to drool a bit in his sleep, and as you reach up to wipe it from his chin, he grabs your wrist, pulling your fingers to his lips to kiss them sleepily.

“Rest well?” you ask, smiling.

“Mm. Always do, when I’m with you,” he responds, kissing your palm next.

You sigh. “Cora…”

“Something on your mind?” He lowers your hand so he can fix his marigold eyes on yours, searching and curious.

You hesitate, mustering up the courage to share your thoughts. “I was just thinking… If we revealed to Doffy that we’re seeing each other, maybe we could be close more often. Share quarters instead of sneaking around. We could have this every night…”

Rosinante sits up, shifting you to sit onto his lap. He’s pensive, frowning slightly, the look alone making anxious nerves unsettle your stomach. As always, though, he notices, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back to show he’s not mad.

“I have thought about that,” he says after a minute, “but I want to save that information.”

“Save it?”

“As my brother gains momentum, the stakes only continue to rise, as do the risks we take. If we are ever out doing something conspiratorial against him, and, god forbid, he catches wind of it… I want to be able to use our relationship as an alibi. So I can tell him that we were just trying to hide that we’re dating.“

So that was his plan. Moments like these were a sobering reminder of his true nature–ever the cautious spy, strategically manipulating any and all information available to him. You imagine Doflamingo’s response to hearing that. After years spent in his service, it’s not difficult–you can picture his demonic grin clearly in your mind, and how it would widen upon the revelation. ‘A relationship? Why would you hide such a thing from me, dear brother?’

“He’d question why you went to lengths to hide that.”

“But he knows you,” Rosinante says, wiping the drool from his chin with the back of his hand. “He knows you’re shy, and he’s still under the impression I’m reserved. It might be enough to convince him. On the off chance that it could save us…”

You nod, if a bit reluctantly. “I understand.”

His smile is wistful, at first, before he puts on a more confident front, bending over to press his forehead to yours. “I’ll find ways to be close to you, Y/n. No matter what. Okay?”

“Okay.” You cup his face, mindful not to smear the paint, and he wraps his arms around your back. You both stay like that for a while, like you can combat an uncertain future by figuratively and literally holding onto each other. And maybe it’s just because you’re head-over-heels for him, but sometimes, his embrace feels a lot like hope.

You make dinner for the both of you, outright refusing to let him help, knowing no good can come of him being around open flames or knives. After eating, you set up the video transponder snail, settling on the couch to watch the films. By then, Rosinante’s coat has fully dried, and he lets you curl up in it, more like a massive blanket in comparison to your body. He must get a kick out of seeing you practically drowning in the fabric, because he can’t stop giggling to himself as he tucks it around you.

Having not been familiar with most of the films advertised at the store, you had picked out the snail at random. The first film turns out to be enjoyable, a lighthearted but thrilling espionage flick that Rosinante can’t resist making comments on.

“That’s not how that works…”

“It’s just pretend, Rosi.”

“Still-!”

The both of you are lying down by the time the second film starts, your back to his chest, his hand resting on your hip. You’re not really paying this film much attention, focused more on the soft joys of the present: his scent surrounding you, the heat of his body that you can feel even through the coat, the sense of safety you get from being in proximity.

Rosinante must not be paying attention to the film, either, because after a while, he noses into your hair and breathes in deep. A moment later, his lips press to the back of your neck.

“Mm…” You shift a bit. “Rosi?”

“I know you said you don’t want to celebrate your birthday, but…” He doesn’t pull away from your neck to speak, and you can’t tell if the goosebumps that result come from the tickling of his lips on your skin or his deep baritone in your ear. “Can I make you feel good?”

A pulse of excitement runs through you at the husky intent in his voice, but it’s quickly tempered by doubt. It’s not like you haven’t done it before, but you’re self-conscious regardless, since…

“You know I won’t be able to finish,” you remind him. 

It kills you that because of your issue, Rosinante can’t even do that much for you. He’s well acquainted with your struggle by now, and while it’s never stopped him from seeking this type of closeness, you still feel guilty. But it’s like he can sense your shame, because he kisses the back of your neck again as if to soothe your worries.

“That’s okay,” he murmurs. “So long as you enjoy yourself.”

That swell of gratitude returns in full force, rising in your chest along with such a strong surge of love that it almost hurts. You roll over to face him. He’s already blushing from the proposition, and you feel the heat start to crawl up your own cheeks.

“I love you so much,” you confess. “Yes, Rosi, you can. I… I want it. I want you…”

That giddy schoolboy grin returns for a moment, and then it changes, becoming something far more subdued and adult, his eyes half-lidding as he cradles your face in both hands.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Rosinante kisses you softly at first, pacing himself like he’s committing the feeling to memory. Then you grab onto the open collar of his shirt, and the tug of fabric triggers something in him, arms wrapping around you as he brings a heat that wasn’t present in any of the sweet kisses throughout the day. You can sense the change, his intent seeming to flow directly into your veins from his mouth like venom, burning you up in a good way. He’s measured, even restrained when he swipes his tongue along the seam of your mouth, only for his breath to hitch when you reciprocate, you parting your lips to curl your smaller tongue around his. His resulting moan comes from deep in his gut, stirring heat in yours.

Without breaking the kiss, he lets go of your face in order to peel his coat off of you, tossing it out of the way and swallowing your little noise of protest before his hands are right back on you, pulling you even closer. You reach up to grab the tails of his hat, eagerly pressing your body against his as you return everything he gives you.

Breaking for air lets him get a good look at your face, flushed and panting, and he curses at the sight of his face paint smeared across your swollen lips.

“Fuck, Y/n… Seeing my paint all messy on you–it does things to me,” he admits breathlessly, pupils blown wide.

“I could say the same,” you smile, as his is smudged just as badly. It would look ridiculous if it wasn’t so hot.

Rosinante kisses you again, open-mouthed and passionate. Given that he’s larger in every way, all parts of him proportionate to his height, even his tongue is that much bigger, filling up your mouth when he thrusts it past your lips. You moan around his tongue, and again when his large hands start to roam your body, greedily feeling you up. The tails of his hat aren’t sturdy enough for your liking, so you pull it off his head and bury your fingers directly into his hair, gripping the blond locks tightly enough to make him groan into your mouth. He starts to kiss and nibble along your jaw, muttering huskily in between each one.

“Could smear it elsewhere,” kiss, “could smear it all over you,” nip, “d’you want that, baby girl?”

“Ah! Rosi, y-yes! Please!”

His low chuckle sends a spike of heat between your legs, another one following when he rolls you onto your back, hovering over your form. “There’s my good girl.”

You whimper at the praise as Rosinante kisses his way down your neck, gliding his hands up and down your sides before hooking them under the hem of your shirt. He peels it up with reverence, like he’s unwrapping a long-anticipated gift, slow and methodical. You raise your arms to help him remove it, then undo the clasp of your bra yourself, figuring he’d only struggle with his large fingers. You let him remove your bra the rest of the way, too, knowing he enjoys disrobing you, though feeling a wave of embarrassment at how he sucks in a breath once your breasts are exposed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, awestruck, and you can’t help but cover your face. He always acts like he’s never seen you naked before.

Rosinante pulls your hands away, kisses you with tongue, then replaces your hands where they were, making you giggle. Then he presses his face between your breasts with a muffled sigh, enjoying the feel of your body for a moment before he shifts himself lower, mouth leaving a stripe of red down your front until his head rests on your stomach. His fingers sink into the doughy flesh of your hips, and you tense only for a moment before relaxing.

“You okay, baby?” he checks in.

“Mhm,” you assure him, “feels good.”

By now, you were used to how Rosinante reacted to your body, but the first time you had been intimate, you froze up at his touches.

“It doesn’t bother you?” you had asked him as he kissed your hip, trailing his lips along a stretch mark.

“Hm?” His eyes, glassy with lust, flicked up to meet yours, making you shiver. “Does what?”

“My, um…” Unable to say it, you grabbed your stomach to illustrate your point.

Rosinante followed your gaze down to your hands. There was a beat where he just blinked, unsure of what you meant, before his eyes widened with realization. Then he blushed even deeper. Tentatively, his hands came to rest over yours on your stomach, and then he gently pulled them away so he could lay his head there instead. 

“Silly girl…”

The way he said it, like he was in on something you weren’t, went straight between your legs. He let go of your hands so he could lecherously squeeze at your thighs again.

“You have no idea…” he whispered, and kissed your stomach with the same veneration of one kissing the foot of a revered statue. “...No idea what you do to me.”

Finding out he liked it–once you got over the initial shyness–had been a major confidence booster, even if it veered on overwhelming at times. Rosinante’s size may have made you weak-kneed if you dwelled on it too much, and his hidden gentleness had its draw, of course, but the sexiest thing about him was just how into you he was.

His lips press to your stomach the same way they did that first time together, and thanks to the sheer size of him, the purr in his throat sounds more like a growl.

“You’re so soft, Y/n…” His tongue dips out to taste your skin.

“Ah!” You squirm. “Rosi-!”

Rosinante’s grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. “Can’t get enough…” He licks his way to the top of your hip, where he starts sucking a bruise that has you whimpering. His hands travel lower to wrap around your thighs, and then, without warning, he suddenly drags you further beneath him, so his head is level with your neck, handling you like the tiny thing you are in comparison. You gasp at how easy it is for him, and again, breathier, when his lips touch your shoulder.

He’s gotten bolder in bed. You would have never imagined it from how cautious he was your first few times together, but Rosinante was keen. This long into your relationship, he’d zeroed in on what you liked–not that you made it all that difficult, reacting rather strongly whenever he manhandled you a little. Sure enough, between that and his earlier kisses, you already feel yourself growing slick.

“Soft,” he repeats, kissing your skin. “Sweet.” His mouth skims along your shoulder until he’s at the curve of your neck. “Like something to be eaten…” He bites into the tender flesh, drawing a moan from you.

“Rosi,” you whine, a little gasp escaping when he starts sucking on the spot. “Mm-! Please! D-Don’t tease me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mutters, then promptly contradicts his words with another gentle bite.

“Rosi!”

“Sorry, baby girl… Hard to help when it makes you sound like that.” He kisses your neck in apology. “I’ll take care of you, promise...”

True to his word, Rosinante pushes you back up the couch so he’s positioned over your hips this time. The removal of your pants and underwear is treated with the same careful devotion that he did your shirt, savoring the act almost as much as what will follow. He doesn’t hesitate once you’re fully nude, immediately kissing your mons despite the soft curls of hair, then kissing your outer lips, groaning with heady anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me,” he directs, the command making you throb. There's something immensely appealing about knowing he could easily do it himself, but having you do as he says anyway. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth when you comply, entranced by the display. “Oh, good girl, so pretty. I’m so lucky…”

Before you have a chance to react shyly to that, he dips his head and licks a broad stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, and your back arches at the electric contact, a small cry slipping out.

“So wet for me,” Rosinante moans. “Tell me if you need to stop, okay?”

With that, he dives back in, warming you up with slow, persistent licks, large tongue spread flat against your entire slit. Only a few seconds in and you’re already whimpering and squirming, prompting him to hook his muscular arms around your thighs to hold you still. The strength in his grip is almost as intoxicating as his enthusiasm, all the shrewd composure he’s forced to uphold for his mission gone, not even an afterthought when presented with the opportunity to indulge himself. He’s like a different person when he’s between your legs, usual modesty replaced by something carnal and hungry.

Rosinante eats you out like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance, shameless and thorough, deftly weaving his tongue between the folds of your inner lips before suckling on them. He gives quick, toying flicks of his tongue along your entrance, teasing the idea but not yet penetrating, and you can’t stop yourself from thrusting slightly into his mouth, which makes him tighten his grip on you.

“Oh-! Oh! Rosi!” you whine, unable to escape the blissful onslaught, fingers digging uselessly at the couch.

He’s noisy about it, too, not just because of the wet, messy slurping, but because he won’t stop moaning against your cunt, like he’s on another plane of being. While he claimed to be doing this for you, you suspect, even despite how incredible it feels, that he’s the one getting more out of this. He doesn’t let up for a single moment. You’re not sure how he’s breathing.

From the very start of your sexual relationship, Rosinante has always had a natural aptitude for giving head, and he’s only gotten better with time. He reads your body effortlessly, attentive nature serving him well for the task, knowing when to be consistent and when to switch it up. He’ll lick in one direction for a while, then, right before you become used to it to the point of the pleasure diminishing, he’ll change direction, interspersing with a new sensation that has your toes curling.

Once he’s decided you’re warmed up enough, he starts being more precise, using the tip of his tongue for more pinpoint stimulation in between the steady, rhythmic licks. Then he licks a long stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit again, except this time, he finishes by circling around your engorged clit. You arch deeper, if possible, as you cry out, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging hard, and he moans even louder. There’s a brief pause where he takes a breath–more of a gasp of your name, really–and then he’s buried his face between your legs again, focusing his attention on your clit, flicking and lapping his tongue at it like it’s his goal to get you to pull his hair out. Your noises, your writhing, the slight pain of your grip on his hair, all of it drives Rosinante mad, self-control slipping as he starts to buck his hips into the couch now and then while he goes down on you.

Right as the attention to your clit becomes too much, he snakes his tongue down and finally penetrates you, licking and undulating along your walls. Thrusting as deep as he can go, he curls his tongue to collect your slick at the source before drawing it back into his mouth to swallow it down, groaning depravedly at the taste. He never slows down, either, tongue-fucking you with a drive bordering on obsessive.

You’re almost as noisy as Rosinante is, now, hopeless to stop each shaky little whimper and moan of his name that he so expertly coaxes out of you. With his relentless pace and excellent attention to detail, it’s only a matter of time before it all becomes overstimulating.

“Rosi,” you gasp, tapping his shoulder. “Rosi, it’s too much.”

He looks a complete mess when he lifts his head, hair disheveled, mouth and chin shiny with slick and drool, almost no face paint left on him, likely all smeared on your vulva–you’ll definitely need a shower later. With the color and thickness of his hair, his reluctant look reminds you somewhat of a golden retriever that’s been called by its owner to leave the dog park. 

“Just a little more?” he asks with an innocence that has no place being there after how he just ate you out.

You giggle, both at that and because this was supposed to be about you, but you’re flattered that he can’t help himself when it comes to your body. “Give me a minute to recover, first. Then you can keep going. But slow down a bit when you do, okay?”

He rests his head on your thigh. “Whatever you need, baby girl. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You lay your head back, catching your breath as you come down. Rosinante busies himself with marking up your inner thighs in the meantime, nibbling and sucking one bruise after another while you stroke his hair appreciatively. Once your nerves have settled, you give him the okay, and he wastes no time getting back to work.

Rosinante adjusts his hold on your thighs and drags your body closer, grinding your cunt right against the flat of his tongue as your fingers find their way into his hair again. He doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips into him, encouraging it with a gratified moan. Pleasure builds back up gradually, only to spike too high when he turns his attention to your clit again.

“Slow, Rosi,” you remind him, and he grunts an affirmative, easing up significantly.

One of his arms unhooks from your thigh, large hand squeezing your rear before he slips it between your bodies. As promised, he moves slowly when he penetrates you with a thick finger, but you still arch from the contact–his fingers are so much bigger than yours, and taking his time means the sensation is drawn out that much longer.

“Oh!” Your gasp is only pleasured, but he checks in anyway.

“This okay?”

“Yesss,” you moan, making him chuckle.

Mindful of your sensitivity, Rosinante pumps his finger at a leisurely, unhurried pace, relishing in each of your twitches and cries.

“What a good girl you are, Y/n,” he praises, then licks along the side of your clit, just once. “Letting me do this to you behind closed doors…” His tongue sweeps over your nub again. “You’re sweet all over, aren’t you, baby?”

He keeps from overstimulating you by breaking up each pass of his tongue with praise, until you don’t know if it’s his mouth or his words that’s making your breath catch in your throat.

“Your moans are so cute.”

“I love how you try to hold back…”

“You don’t need to, Y/n.”

“After all… This is all for me.”

“All mine to see, to hear, to taste. My girl...”

Rosinante curls his finger, and you cry his name. He’s gentle but insistent, sparking little pulses of pleasure through your core. It doesn’t build up much, but you ride it as long as you can, until your enjoyment starts to wane and there’s more friction than you’d like.

“Rosi, I–I need a break,” you tap his shoulder in signal, and he withdraws from you.

“You lasted longer that time,” Rosinante notes, then grabs your thigh and drags you underneath him so he’s at eye level with you again. Despite how he moves you as he pleases, he looks at you like you’re an angel gracing the earth. “You taste so damn good… Want me to show you?” He sticks out his tongue devilishly.

You consent by reaching for his face, pulling him in for a messy kiss that tastes of your slick. He probes his tongue deep, making sure to fill your mouth with the slippery tang. You moan softly in approval, and the thought that you like it turns him on so much he’s bucking slightly again in response. If it wasn’t for the significant height difference, he’d be grinding against you, but with your heads currently level, his hips are below your own.

Rosinante growls into your mouth, hands roaming your body to grab and squeeze as he likes. You can feel the rumble of it in your chest, and along with the dizzying taste of your slick and his covetous groping, you find yourself craving even more of him, like the depth of his need has rubbed off on you. Your hand trails down, reaching for his pants, but alas, he’s too damn tall for you to get any further than his abs. He picks up on it, though.

“You want my cock?” Rosinante whispers huskily, thrusting into the couch again.

“Yes, yes, please, Rosi!” you beg, and he grins at your desperation.

“I thought you needed a break.”

“Don’t be mean! It’s my birthday…” A cheap card to pull, maybe, but you’ll say anything at this point to get what you want.

Rosinante chuckles and kisses you, gently biting your lower lip. “Think it’ll fit this time?”

Even after all of his prior attention, the words pool fresh heat between your legs, an anticipatory shudder running up your spine. “Let’s try?” you ask. “Pretty please?”

“Like I could say no to you.” He kisses you again, groaning when you grind your crotch against his stomach. “Just don’t push yourself if it hurts.”

Rosinante’s eyes glaze over as he watches you hastily unbutton his shirt, taken at your impatience and at how avidly you run your hands down the soft fuzz of his chest once it’s exposed. He’s already undone the button of his pants earlier for some relief from the tightness, and there’s a wet spot on the fabric you don’t miss. He takes enough mercy on you to remove his own bottoms quickly, sliding both off in one motion. His cock springs against his stomach, fully hard and leaking, leaving a smear of precum on his abdomen. Like the rest of him, it’s proportionate to his size, far bigger than anything someone your height was probably meant to take. The length and girth would be more intimidating if it was attached to anyone else, but Rosinante was always mindful of your limits, taking the utmost care anytime you attempted penetration. Still, you can only fight the confines of anatomy so much, and as such, there’s only been a few times that you’ve been able to take him, all of which involved the assistance of lubricant.

Rosinante sits up with his back against the couch, and you eagerly straddle him, scooting forward until your clit’s pressed against the base of his twitching cock. The tip reaches past your navel, promising an incredible stretch if you can manage to fit him.

“Take it nice and slow, okay? Don’t force yourself,” he says as he rests his hands on your hips, helping you position yourself over him. He gasps at your touch when you reach to line him up with your entrance, your fingers not meeting even around the head of his dick.

His energy has changed, all earlier lust now controlled under a tight leash, restrained but brimming beneath the surface. You can feel it in the twitch of his fingers on your hips, and in his shaky breathing as he watches you lower yourself onto him. You both let out a breath when the blunt head of him presses against you. The delicate walls of your entrance are gradually spread wider and wider, stretching to accommodate the intrusion. There’s a dull tinge of pain, one that’s not concerning enough to stop you yet. But despite how wet you are from earlier, it’s still not enough to compensate for his girth, and you find yourself unable to get even the head of his cock fully inside without the friction becoming too painful.

Frustration pushes you to try again. You want him badly, you want to be close in this way, you’ve done it before–you know it’s possible. The resulting pain of your attempt shows in your grimace, making Rosi halt your progress with a firm hold on your hips.

“Baby, stop,” he says, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “It’s not worth it if it hurts you.”

“I’m so close,” you whine. “I know I can do it.”

“You sure?” His thumb strokes your temple. “Listen to your body, Y/n. If it’s too much, there’s no shame in calling it off for today. We can try again next time.”

You make one more valiant attempt with no luck. Since you’ve taken him before, you have an idea of what to expect when it goes right, and this does not feel like one of those times. It just wasn’t going to happen without lube. Sighing, you dismount, trying not to feel too disappointed. Finishing him with your mouth is a fun option, too, but you were looking forward to riding him…

Then you remember something.

“Wait,” your eyes widen in realization, “the coconut oil.”

“Hm?” He tilts his head cutely.

“There was some left behind in the pantry, remember? I’m pretty sure that’s body-safe…”

Rosinante considers it, then shakes his head. “It’s probably contaminated, or expired.”

“I think it’s still sealed.”

“Is it?” He blinks for a moment, like he can’t believe the luck. Then he jumps to his feet with a hastiness that betrays his excitement, only to slip on nothing and fall hard on his ass. Undeterred, he hops right back to his feet, but is stopped by you grabbing his wrist.

“Nuh-uh, you stay here. I’ll get it,” you assert, picturing him retrieving the jar only to wipe out and let it shatter onto the floor. If that happened you might actually cry.

“I understand,” Rosinante says. You meet each other’s eye and immediately know you’re picturing the same thing, making you both break into giggles. Rosinante pulls you in for a kiss before plopping back down onto the couch, his dick bobbing enticingly from the action. “You gonna stare or you gonna hurry it up, then?”

Caught, you can only flash him a playful grin before you dart into the kitchen. (Wandering through someone else’s home nude always feels a bit awkward, but knowing it’s been abandoned helps ease the discomfort somewhat.) The coconut oil is unrefined, thankfully. Bringing it back to the couch, you scan the label to make sure it’s still in date. The lid is stuck tightly enough to prove it’s still sealed, resisting your attempts to open it until Rosinante twists it off in one easy motion that has you staring at his flexing forearms. He sniffs the contents before offering it to you to inspect. It smells light and faintly sweet, and the pure white color along with the smooth consistency reassures you that it’s safe.

You straddle Rosinante again. He’s so broad your legs don’t reach the couch when you do, but his muscular thighs are sturdy enough that it doesn’t matter. He bites back a whine when you start applying the coconut oil, bucking into your hands.

“Oh, shit. Your hands are so warm,” he moans.

“I’m even warmer on the inside,” you joke.

His chuckle breaks into a gasp when your hand passes over the head of his cock. You keep eye contact while you work, reveling in the flushed, needy way he watches you, this giant of a man now putty in your hands.

“You need–mm, fuck–you need some, too,” he pants, dipping two fingers into the jar and prompting you to raise your hips. Slick with oil, both of his thick fingers slip inside you without resistance, causing you to grab his forearm for stability as pleasure buzzes through you like static. He fingers the oil in deep, eyes half-lidding as you grind into his palm. “There you go…”

While Rosinante seems content to watch you fuck yourself on his hand, you have no intention of getting this messy only to not go all the way.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, come on,” you insist, and he curls his fingers teasingly before he withdraws them just to hear you moan. He wipes the excess oil on his hips before grabbing hold of yours, helping you position yourself again.

“Take it slow,” he says softly, watching your face for signs of pain.

The lube makes a world of difference, eliminating that threshold of friction that stopped you before. Holding your breath seems involuntary, an instinctive response to the feeling of your walls gloving the broad head of his dick. The stretch seems endless as you gradually lower yourself, slick flesh sliding past with little resistance until you’re spread impossibly wide around the first few inches. Rosinante reminds you to breathe through gritted teeth, his strained expression telling you just how good it feels. You don’t need the added motivation, plenty resolved to keep going for the euphoric stretch alone, but knowing it’s just as good for him only makes it better. A helpless little whimper falls out as you take a few more inches, holding onto his forearms for support. He’s thicker toward the tip, so once you conquer the first half, the rest is a matter of patience rather than struggle.

“Gods, Rosi,” you breathe, legs trembling as you work your hips in little up-and-down motions to open yourself further. “You’re so big. So big...”

Rosinante moans, head falling back on the couch. “Oh, fuck. Say it again.”

“You’re so big, Rosi!” Your eyes roll back as you sink another inch, his girth stretching you to your very limit until, finally, he’s more or less bottomed out. There are a few inches of him still left out, beyond what you can physically fit, but the fact that you can manage to take the majority of him at all is an amazing feat on its own.

You stay still for a moment, basking in the bliss of being filled near to bursting, the taught stretch of your walls shooting hot pulses of sensation through your pelvic floor without him moving. Even the slight edge pain feels incredible, cutting through the pleasure and keeping you grounded and aware of everything you’re feeling.

“You are warm,” Rosinante says, and even with him essentially in your guts, you can’t help but giggle. He shifts just slightly, but the slick movement inside you has you gasping and clenching down hard, making him groan and tighten his grip on your hips. He bends down to press his forehead against yours, lust morphing his expression into being both broken and ravenous as he looks into your eyes.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands breathily, almost against your lips.

“It feels so good!” you moan without shame. “Rosi, it feels so good.”

“There’s my girl.” He splays his fingers over your abdomen, feeling the distinct bulge of himself through the flesh with a pleased hiss. “You look so damn good like this. Love the sight of you stuffed full of my cock.”

You clench at the words and rock your hips forward, making you both moan in tandem, and again when you start steadily moving up and down his length. His hands on your hips keep you stable, supporting but not guiding your movements, letting you go at your own pace while he mutters filth in your ear.

“Can’t believe you took all of me… What a greedy little cunt you have, Y/n. Such a good girl, opening up for me…”

Rosinante kisses you roughly, drawing messy stripes on your tongue while you fuck yourself on his cock. You try to pay it back once he pulls away, praises spilling from your lips when you have enough presence of mind to do something other than whimper. But where Rosinante can dish it out, it seems he cannot not take it, because after only a few enamored ravings of how big he is and how good he feels, he’s suddenly stuffing two fingers in your mouth to silence you.

“If you keep talking like that, I’ll cum too soon,” he rasps, but it immediately backfires when you start sucking on his fingers, making him twitch and curse. “Fuck! Little demoness, you like that too?”

He’s plugging your mouth with the fingers that were inside you earlier, and maybe it’s just because of the sex high, but the lingering taste of yourself alongside the sweetness of the coconut oil combines into something incredible. You let him know with a moan, sliding the tip of your tongue between and around his fingers as he presses down on the back of it.

Your body’s more adjusted to him now, letting you ride him harder and faster. His gaze flicks between your fucked-out expression, a little drool trailing from the corner of your lips, to the point where your bodies meet, watching himself disappear in your heat. After the rigors of the mission, you can’t maintain the pace for very long, tiring earlier than you normally would–unfortunately, your stamina can’t keep up with your need, but Rosinante always has plenty to spare.

You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a wet gasp. “Rosi, I need help. Please–”

“I got you, baby girl.”

He adjusts his grip on your hips, getting a more secure hold so he can lead your movements rather than just guide them. The passing of control to him is unspoken, an agreement given with intent gazes instead of words. You feel completely safe in giving yourself to him fully, letting your tired legs relax as he takes over, and in turn, he’s careful in the way he bounces you on his length. He sets a faster pace than how you were taking him, but doesn’t go as hard as you’d like–thankfully, at this point in your relationship, you’re better at communicating your needs.

“Harder, Rosi,” you pant, “I need it harder.”

The brief flash of his grin is your only warning before one of his hands wraps around your thigh and yanks you further down onto him, spearing his length in as deep as it’ll go. The breath is knocked out of you as his cockhead nudges your cervix, but the intensity with which you clamp down on him, along with your full-body shudder, tells him all he needs to know.

“You even like that, huh? You like when I use you like a plaything. Filthy, needy girl…”

You cry out in agreement as Rosinante takes you harder, thrusting up into you while pulling you down to meet his hips. The furrow in his brow and the grit of his teeth indicates he’s close and trying to hold out, tapping into that crazy willpower of his in order to please you for as long as he can. Each deep thrust works you further into a blissful haze, coiling pleasure in your gut until you can barely keep your head up–you can barely do anything aside from moan. He tilts your chin up with one finger, slowing down slightly so he can steal another kiss. Neither of you can maintain it very long with you both breathing heavily from exertion, but you stay close, lips parted and panting against each other.

You go from bracing your arms on his chest, to his shoulders, to raking your nails down the scarred expanse of his arms, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingers. His gaze is fixed on yours, and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. Even with his pupils blown wide and his eyes half-lidded, it’s every bit as adoring as it always is in private, but there’s something deeper to it now. It’s in the years of him having watched your back, it’s in the long process that was the gradual lowering of your defenses, it’s in getting to the point you could be so mutually vulnerable, it’s in wanting to make each other feel good out of love and nothing else. You wished you could exist in this moment forever, just to be close in the ultimate way.

No matter how good Rosinante feels, it never builds right. You wish you could cum. You want to experience that with him. But at the same time, you know he won’t be upset with you for it. And so, when you inevitably feel the pleasure start to wane in a way that indicates oncoming discomfort, you feel no shame in speaking up.

“I can’t… Rosi, I can’t go much longer.”

Rosinante immediately slows down. “Want me to stop?”

“No, I–I want you to cum.”

His eyes darken, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Where do you want it, baby girl?”

“Inside.”

You can feel his dick twitch when you say it, and he rests his head on your shoulder with a low groan.

“Fuck. Okay. Sure, I can do that for you.”

Rosinante plants a sloppy kiss on your neck before turning toward the long end of the couch, gently laying you back without pulling out. He repositions you both into a more comfortable missionary, resting his burly arms above you.

“This feel okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, s’good.” You raise a hand to touch his cheek. “This way I can see your face when you cum.”

Got him. It took all day, but you finally turned the tables for once, and the result is a wonderful sight to behold. Even flushed with exertion, the blush across his face deepens to a shade you’ve rarely seen before, his jaw going slack. To his credit, he recovers quickly, bringing a hand to cup yours on his cheek and grinning down at you.

“Guess I deserved that after all of today.” He turns his head to kiss your hand. “I won’t be much longer, but stop me if you need to, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Good girl.”

Rosinante lets go of your hand to trail it down your side, settling on your hip to anchor you in place as he starts thrusting. He’s only slow for the first few thrusts, quickly working himself back up to a firm, brisk pace. Having held out until now, it doesn’t take him long to get back to the edge, evident by the way his groans deepen and intersperse with broken gasps. Just as erotic as the sound of him is the sight of him, abs flexing as his huge body rolls into you. It’s enough to spark your weary nerves back to attention, dragging the pleasure out one last time. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” he moans, “always so tight, every damn time.”

Rosinante curls over you like he can’t hold himself up anymore, his head pressed to your shoulder, but it doesn’t slow the pounding of his hips at all, nor does it stop him from singing your praises into your ear.

“My sweet girl, so good to me. Love you so much, love that you’re mine…”

The husky devotion with which he says it has you throwing your head back onto the cushions and arching into his thrusts, whimpering when it angles him perfectly into your g-spot. The sound must trigger something in him, because his talking plummets from praise into filth faster than an angel falling from grace.

“You’re right, Y/n. We should tell my brother about us. That way I could fuck you every night, ‘til I’ve molded you to the shape of my cock. You’d get so used to it I wouldn’t need to hold back, and you’d fucking love the process, wouldn’t you? Begging me to fuck your pussy even though you can barely take it. We could even fuck in the room right next him and thanks to my power, he’d never even hear you screaming my name.”

“Rosi!” you cry, throwing your arms over what part of his back you can reach and digging your nails in. “Don’t you dare hold back! Give me everything, right now!”

It’s not a request he’s ever really granted you, but drunk as he currently is on the pleasures of your body–and maybe because it’s your birthday–he relents this once. A deep, uncharacteristic growl rumbles in his chest as his thrusts turn brutal, one arm braced above your head. His other hand’s wrapped around your thigh to keep you from bouncing off him from the force, ironlike grip keeping you in place so he never slips out. For a short but wonderful amount of time, you’re at the mercy of the brunt of him, just like you’d asked. At no other time does the scope of his size come into perspective like when he’s throwing all that weight behind his thrusts, three meters of solid muscle bullying your insides. It hurts a bit, but you’re treated to the incredible sight that is Rosinante on the edge, gritting his teeth and groaning like a beast, completely lost to higher thought.

“Gonna cum,” he gasps, and then he’s chanting your name like a sacred incantation, each time a little louder. His pace stutters, grip on your thigh tightening, and he pulls you down on him one last time, thrusting as deep as he can go and staying there with a penultimate moan. You can feel his length throb and pulse as he releases, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

For a minute, neither of you move, catching your breath and weakly holding each other. Then he pulls out, the absence feeling like a gaping loss as much as a relief. He has just enough presence of mind to collapse next to you rather than on top of you, trembling with what must be little aftershocks. A gentle touch to his cheek grounds him, making him blink and focus on you. He breaks into a dopey grin, pulling you close.

“You’re perfect.” He kisses you softly, all traces of roughness vanished. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You beam, somewhat giddy after having your craving sated so thoroughly. He’s no better off, giggling and kissing you again.

The post-orgasm clarity must hit him around then, because his face suddenly falls, levity turning to concern in an instant.

“Oh, shit! Oh, Y/n, are you okay?” He cradles your face in his hands, inspecting you as if it was your face that endured any of it. “I’m so sorry–I got a bit rough there, and we never went over a safe word–does anything hurt?”

“I’m okay, Rosi!” You cover his larger hands with yours, rubbing your thumbs across the back like he does for you when you’re stressed. “It hurt a little, but I would have stopped you if I didn’t like it.”

That helps him relax somewhat, though the worry doesn’t fully leave him. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not much. Might be sore later. Nothing I can’t handle.”

It takes some more reassurance before he’s satisfied, listening to you soothe his concerns while he massages your hips and thighs. You help each other come down, sometimes with touches, sometimes with soft words, sometimes just holding one another close and listening to the sounds of your breathing. You can only ignore the aftermath for so long, however, in this case being the trickle of his cum down your thigh.

“It is far too late for me to be realizing this,” you say, “but we forgot to put a blanket down, and now there’s stains on the couch…”

“Yeah,” Rosinante says, “I’m gonna be honest. I don’t feel bad at all.”

You snicker. “A pirate’s a pirate, huh?”

“Actually, that’s the Marine side of me.”

“No way. Pirates fuck way more than Marines.”

“I have news for you about shore leave.”

You mirror his grin. “You can tell me all about it, but I’d prefer a demonstration.”

“I bet you would.” He pulls you in for a kiss.

The last movie had long since played and ended without your noticing–thankfully, the snail put itself to sleep after the end of the movie (you sure hope so, anyway.) The shower isn’t large enough to fit both of you, so you take turns, each helping wash the other from outside the tub. While Rosinante’s no worse for wear, you benefit more from the hot water, easing your tension while he runs his hands over your sore muscles in an echo of his earlier worship.

After you’ve both cleaned up, you rehydrate with some tea before bed, sitting in his lap at the kitchen table and talking.

“Rosinante?” 

“Hm?”

You turn in his lap so you can look at him clearly. “Thanks for today. I really enjoyed my birthday. Probably for the first time in a long time.”

His smile lights up the room, and he hugs you tight, pressing his face into your hair. “I’m so glad!”

You giggle. “This is kind of dumb, but I kind of wish I had a cake after all.”

Rosinante pauses. When he lifts his head, his expression is hard to read, some odd mix of contemplative and sheepish that you can’t discern.

“Rosi?” you ask.

“Um…”

“What is it?”

He glances to the side. “...Well… I actually got a little cake this morning, but I dropped the box it was in when I fell… It’s still in the fridge.”

You sit up straighter. “Wait, seriously?”

“Don’t get excited! It’s totally ruined, at least in appearance. Still edible, but I was so embarrassed I didn’t want to say anything…”

You’re sliding off his lap before he finishes his sentence, going to see for yourself. Sure enough, there’s a little box shoved in the back of the fridge that you didn’t notice. It’s bent in a few places, and the clear plastic window on top of the box is smeared on the inside with cream, blocking your view of the damage.

Rosinante covers his face as you open the box. It’s a disaster; the layers of the cake are in different places, the whipped cream frosting is more on the inside of the box than on the cake itself, and the fruit pieces that must have been a beautiful outer decoration are now scattered. It’s hard not to laugh at the chaos of it, but you manage for his sake, especially considering the circumstances. The thought that he got up early after a tiring mission in order to find a bakery for you is more than a little overwhelming, and you know you’ll cry if you dwell on it too much. You’d take a dropped cake over a flawless one any day if it was coming from him.

“For the record, Rosi,” you say, “I think it’s perfect.”

There’s no way to cut a uniform slice out of the cake, so you fork a piece directly from the mess. It’s delicious, fresh and not too sweet, and even though Rosinante doesn’t care for baked goods, your pleased look convinces him to try it, too.

There’s some symbolism there, something about appearances and damage and sweetness in spite of it all, but for once, you don’t overthink it.

Rosinante has one last surprise for you when you snuggle into bed, getting your attention once you’ve settled in. “I had an idea,” he says.

“What about?”

“It would be a few days late for your birthday, but… I looked into the next island we’re going to stop at. Apparently, it’s famous for its zoo. And, you know, Law told me he’s never been to a zoo before.” He gauges your reaction, hesitant. “...I’d love to take you and the kids.”

Your love of animals didn’t escape his notice either, then. You smile at that, though it falters. “Sounds kind of like a date… What will we tell the others?”

“I won’t say anything. You will mention the zoo in front of the kids. Law will pretend not to want to go, but Baby 5 and Buffalo will jump at the idea, and he’ll end up tagging along. I’ll accompany you all as a ‘bodyguard.’ There’s a chance others in the family will want to come, but it could still be nice.”

It does sound nice. Even if you won’t be able to hold hands as you go, even if you’ll have to keep up pretenses–he’ll still be there, and the two of you will know the true meaning behind the visit. That’s more than enough.

Rosinante’s presence alone has always been enough, but the little ways in which he’ll go out of his way for you serve as comforting reminders of his devotion. It’s not as easy to harbor doubts when he always shows up to chase them away.

“I’d love to go with you, Rosi.” You scoot backwards until his chest is against your back, solid and warm as always. His arm automatically drapes across your body to bring you just a bit closer, and you both drift off like that–sated, secure, and looking forward to the coming days.

[aquapen]

mono no aware (good luck, babe!)

I wanna hold the hand inside you

I wanna breathe the breath that’s true

I look to you and I see nothing

I look to you to see the truth…

.

.

.

The low hum of the hover car’s engine fills the cabin, and she glances at the navigation screen, double-checking the coordinates – it’s fairly recent, this realization, but believe it or not, she’s only taken this route a handful of times over the years.  If that.

She grips the controls tighter, and the vehicle climbs higher, clouds whipping past the windshield, a frothy sea of white that parts before her, and then the sunlight turns the cloud tops to shimmering gold.

A breathtaking sight, this world of molten light, but her heart just isn’t in it; her mind keeps jerking back to Krillin’s pained face from a few days ago.

"Have you visited yet?" he had asked, and she had barely shaken her head when he continued, "Do it."

Bulma had stared for a moment, teeth set on edge, but Krillin had not seemed inclined to add more.

Even now, while she’s driving, she remembers the weird and tingling emptiness expanding between her lungs at the lack of a follow-up. With them, there was always something: a miracle, a plan, some fragmentary, seat-of-their-pants solution to whatever pickle they were in. Dragon balls lost to the depths of the ocean? Fixed. Green alien slash demon king wanting to rule the world? Done. Freaking Saiyan invasion right here on Earth? Boom, done.

And what a doozy that had been, Bulma thinks and almost smiles, remembering the ride to the hospital after chasing off Vegeta, Krillin twiddling his thumbs in the passenger seat while tentatively trying to explain that maybe there was a chance to bring Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu and Piccolo back to life. They only had to travel to a planet nobody had ever heard of before and nobody knew where it was – enter Goku, who had asked King Kai, and there you go, problem solved (pretty handy being pals with deities, after all). Except Namek was 4,339 years and 3 months away, even using Capsule Corp.'s greatest spaceship engine. And then, with the adrenaline-flush of a plan coming together, they had overcome that small hurdle as well. And then some.

And now?

The clouds part suddenly, revealing tall mountains and rolling hills, lush forests and streams glinting when they catch the light. Bulma begins her descent, guiding the hover car towards the soft grass of the clearing before the small house. She touches down with a soft thump, the engine falling silent.

Now they have two sets of dragon balls and they’re useless. Worse than useless. But she doesn’t want to think about that.

She takes a deep breath and steps out into the fresh spring air.

Now, it's just: “Do it.”

.

.

.

She walks for a bit alongside a babbling stream, following Chi-Chi’s directions (“Down the stream and then to the right when you see a grove,” she’d said, her voice tight as if there was something else she’d wanted to say), her footsteps crunching softly on the grass.

The stream curves gently, and suddenly, Bulma sees it – this splash of pink against the green landscape. The cherry trees stand tall, their branches reaching towards the sky, heavy with blooms, and she slows down but then she draws closer, her heart picking up, when a gentle breeze stirs and suddenly the air is filled with a flurry of petals, swirling on invisible currents.

Bulma stops at the edge of the grove and watches him. He’s lying beneath the largest tree, arms folded behind his head and one leg crossed over a bent knee. It’s a sight that unsettles her, though for a moment not even her effortless analytical mind is able to understand why – all she knows is that she just got here but she’s already more than ready to beat a hasty retreat.

She can see Goku’s eyes are closed, his face tilted up to catch the early afternoon sun. She wants to flee, but she doesn’t run, struck by how the dappled light filtering through the branches plays across his features, and she’s so busy watching that –  

“Hey, Bulma!” Goku says, making her jump out of her skin. Of course, she thinks, swallowing hard – you couldn’t sneak around him if your life depended on it. The breeze whips a thin blue tendril of hair into her mouth. She flicks it away irritably. Goku sits up, grass clinging to his clothes, smiling easily – pleased to see her. Bulma takes a deep breath; now it would be really fucking weird to just up and hightail it.

“I didn’t know you were into cherry blossoms,” she says, her mouth running away while her brain was still stopped dead.

Goku laughs like he’s delighted. “What, these?” His smile widens. “I dunno about that. I just remembered my grandpa used to like them.”

“Yeah?” Bulma says, and a bit of the tension leaves her body; at least she manages to get her legs to work and walk up to him. “That’s nice,” she says, hesitating for a second before lowering herself next to him, allowing herself to be sucked into his gentle gravitational pull. Not that she’s ever been able (regrettably) to resist that inexorable something that always radiates from him.

"Yeah," Goku nods, his gaze drifting upwards to the gnarled branches overhead. "He'd get all excited when these trees bloomed. I never really got it." He rubs the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

Bulma considers the end of this little story and snorts. “They’re just beautiful, you numbskull.” She looks around and it is beautiful – a beautiful day, the trees in bloom, the silent, gentle rain of pink and white. She reaches out, catches a petal in her palm. She turns and looks at Goku, who’s still smiling, as always – aggravatingly – refusing to take offense. “It’s not that complicated!”

“Okay!” Goku chuckles, raising his hands in surrender. He looks at her sidelong, and before she could even start figuring out why, he is looking away again – but she can still see the slide of his smile and can’t help smiling mindlessly in turn. “Okay, I guess maybe there is something nice about how they show up for a little bit each year, make everything look pretty,” he continues.

And then go away, Bulma’s mind provides, unbidden. She shakes her head, dispelling the thought. A new gust of wind sends a flurry of petals flying around them and she hugs her knees to her chest, suddenly chilled. Her smile suddenly requires effort to maintain, and she tries to think about something else to talk about, but Goku speaks first.

“I’ve been thinking about my grandpa a lot lately,” he says, out of nowhere, leaning back slightly, his palms pressing on the grass, stretching his legs in front of him. His eyes drift again towards the swaying branches above. “I hope I’ll get to see him this time around – it’ll be nice to catch up.”

Bulma’s head snaps around. “Catch up?” she repeats, the words huffing out of her, carrying a slice of her nerves with them, because damn him – and her stomach twists and turns looking at his young and beautiful face.

“Yeah!” Goku nods, as animated as ever. “You know! Last time I was dead I didn’t have the chance to go look for him. I wanted to, but King Kai’s training was nuts, and I was already running late – ” His eyes light up with a sudden thought and a sunny little giggle as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Did you know I spent two weeks chasing after a monkey?”

Bulma blinks. “You – what?”

“Yeah! And it was freaking hard too.” Goku grins into the breeze. “Bubbles was fast.”

“Bubbles,” Bulma repeats, like she has no idea what she’s hearing.

“Yep,” Goku confirms. “King Kai’s pet monkey.”

Bulma shakes her head. She studies Goku's face, searching for something she's not even sure of herself.

"Son-kun, you –” She swallows. Can barely get the words out around the knot rising in his throat. “How much do you know about this disease anyway?"

Goku wrinkles his nose. It is a meaningless question right now, Bulma supposes, and even as she’s asking, she already knows the answer, feeling everything cinch up into a terrible understanding. “I mean, I know the basics,” Goku says. He gazes up, eyes tracking a petal as it spirals down. “I don’t know the complicated stuff – the doctors use big words that fly right over my head.”

Bulma gives a little huff, unimpressed. “I’m sure they do.”

Goku chuckles. “Yeah, but, heh – it’s my body.” He shrugs. “I get what’s going on.”

“You – ” Bulma’s voice cracks and then rises because at the very least she knows how to do this. She can be angry at his unflappability. “How can you be so casual about it?” she roars, but then she loses her wind again. “Aren’t you afraid?” she barely manages, purely powered by the aggravation of how are you so fucking calm.

Goku shakes his head. “Nah.” He leans back on his hands, tilting his face up to the sky. “I was pissed for a little while, but now I’m good.”

“Pissed?” Bulma says, the word ringing hollow and small and insufficient for something that’s reaching in her chest and ripping her heart out.

“Well, duh!” Goku frowns, short and sharp, before he laughs, a laugh that hits her in the solar plexus. “It’s not like I was thrilled!” he says, and Bulma’s anger redoubles, but this time it’s not aimed at him.

Her hands are trembling with it. She closes her fists. She wants to cry, she wants to scream, but neither seems enough – and then the words then come by instinct.

“Please, don’t die,” she blurts out. Goku’s eyes widen.

“Bulma…!”

"No!" She shakes her head vehemently, her vision starting to blur, and she clenches her teeth. "Please, please, don't die. I'm not – I can't –" She takes a shuddering breath. “It will be boring here without you, okay? And I don't – I won't like it! So, please…"

Goku's face softens. He reaches out, gently squeezing her shoulder. One point of warmth, holding her tightly. "Bulma, hey. It's okay."

"No, it's not," she grinds out.

“It will be,” he insists, with laughable surety. It’s barely reassurance, the way he says it, it’s a statement of fact. No hesitation, no room for doubt, and a sob leaves Bulma’s chest:

“How?”

He thinks about it, that familiar tilt of his head. “Well, you have Trunks, our friends, your family…” He grins then, sudden and knowing and bright. “Those gizmos and doodads you’re always tinkering with…”

“Gizmos and doodads?” Bulma repeats, hastily wiping at her eyes. “They’re inventions, Goku! Very important inventions, for your information!”

Goku smiles that devastating smile – carelessly, guilelessly, genuinely pleased with her. “Yeah,” he says, the breeze ruffling his hair. “See? It’ll be alright.” He picks a fallen blossom from the ground and tosses it in her lap. And then he adds, “But yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

“Shut up,” she snaps, but it comes in a watery chuckle. She tosses the flower back at his face, and Goku starts to laugh. It mingles with the rustle of the breeze between the trees.

“Shut up,” Bulma repeats, almost sullen, and a fresh shower of petals swirls around them.

.

.

.

The low hum of the hover car’s engine whines and fills the cabin as Bulma guides it lower, gradually slowing down. She glances briefly at the navigator screen, then turns it off. She’s getting closer, and fuel is already scarce as it is these days, so – there.

The mountains haven't changed, anyway. They stand tall and unmovable, and then the rolling hills appears, dyed in greens and yellows with rapeseed, and the lush forests and the streams glinting when they catch the light.

The weather had been gloomy and overcast for the better part of the week, but today the sky has cleared in a bright and gorgeous spring day, the blue sky speckled with a few wispy clouds – certainly not enough to dim the sunshine, and Bulma blows the bangs out of her eyes, almost smiling, drinking in the simple and untouched beauty of it all.

When it comes to destruction, the androids prefer the cities; after all, it is a bit hard to commit mass murder in the countryside – they simply like it better where there are thousands of people to terrorize all at once, and to play with, like a cat tormenting a mouse, and then to slaughter –but at leisure, taking their time, making sure fear is firmly planted in the hearts of those who are spared, and most of all laughing at their prayers to Kami.

What a load of bullshit.

Bulma’s wondered, more than once now, if people even know Kami doesn’t exist anymore, that he’s long gone alongside Piccolo. And the dragon balls. And everybody else.

The car glides down towards the clearing and she kills the engine. Her fingers are slightly cramped from the long flight, and for a moment she just sits there, hands still on the controls, watching the little house through the glass of the windscreen. She has a pretty good idea of where Gohan might be – she’d caught Trunks sneaking out from the underground shelter earlier that morning, dressed for training – and it doesn’t look like anybody else is home, and that’s okay – or, well, if she’s honest, that’s a huge relief. 

She takes a deep breath and steps out into the fresh spring air. Like stepping back in time.

She snorts and shakes her head – she wishes it could be that easy.

She follows the path through the overgrown grass, then alongside the babbling stream that’s making the prettiest sounds, marveling that she remembers the way after all this time. But there are some things you just never forget, and she will always be able to find her way to that little pocket of world.

At the end of the path, after the stream has curved gently, she stops, her mouth suddenly dry. There it is, the splash of pink against the green landscape. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and she steps forward, deeper into the grove for the first time in many many years, the sunlight filtering through the canopy of branches overhead. It’s so nice here – no chaos everywhere, no cacophony of shouts and sirens and sudden explosions, no people running around, no heat or flashing lights or smell of burning metal.

A gentle gust of wind sends a flurry of petals cascading around her, swirling and twirling like snowflakes and she closes her eyes, letting it wash over her for a moment.

Under the largest tree, there’s the little stone marker and she lowers herself to the ground, joints popping when she sits crossed-legged. She brushes the petals away from the stone, her eyes tracing the etched characters of his name, weathered now by more than a decade of sun and rain.

“Hey, it’s me,” she says. “Sorry it’s been a while.” 

She should have known better than to expect an answer. Can’t help doing it anyway. Seeing his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hey, Bulma! Oh, well, that’s okay!”

Or seeing the way he used to lean forward when talking to her, toothy grin spreading easily on his face.

“You’re here now.”

She starts crying. Doesn’t even realize it until her shoulders are shaking with hiccups and a ragged sob leaves her throat – she remembers how afraid she had been of forgetting his face, because there weren’t many pictures around; she thought they had lots, but no: most of them were either blurred, or he was too small in them to decipher his features, and she had been terrified. But it was a stupid fear – Goku’s face, it turns out, is one of those few things you just don’t forget.

The breeze picks up again, ruffling her hair and sending another shower of petals swooshing around her. She watches them, her vision still blurred with tears, and a watery laugh bubbles up in her throat. She reaches up to brush at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Okay, okay," she chuckles. "I get it."

She straightens her back. “I didn’t come all this way just to snivel,” she says, her voice growing stronger. “I haven’t given up, you know? I’m doing what I can for Trunks, and for Gohan. But – well, okay maybe I did come here to whine a little bit,” she snorts.

She swallows. “It’s hard.” She can barely get the words out. “Without you.”

“I miss feeling like anything was possible, no matter how bad things got,” she says. She lets a wry smile unfurl on her lips. “Yeah, I guess I just miss you.”

And that’s all there is to it. It’s never even a question – just the outright unfairness that he’s down there because of a disease that can now be easily cured, and she’s up here, longing for his bubbling laughter and his hand on her shoulder. If only just one more time. One point of warmth, holding her tightly.

“Son-kun,” she sighs. “I hope you did find your grandpa.”

She takes one long look at the cherry blossom grove. The gentle sway of the branches, the soft carpet of pink on the ground, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves. With a deep breath, she rises to her feet, brushing off stray petals and grass from her clothes. Feeling suddenly less alone.

“Oh, by the way,” she says. “I’ve started working on something.” She grins – an absurd, delirious grin. “You’re not gonna believe it, but you’ll see. I promise you’ll see.”

“Huh? More gizmos and doodads?”

“You could say that.”

Bulma’s smile softens. “Bye, Goku.”

She turns and makes her way back to her car – and the wind sweeps away the tears from the corner of her eyes, and a new shower of petals dances in the air.

.

.

.

Fade into you Strange you never knew Fade into you I think it's strange you never knew...

[strawwritesfic]

Tony Stark x Reader: Broadway

Summary: Tony might be a genius, but he’s not nearly so good at fooling you as he’d like to believe. 

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (Post-Avengers (2012); pre-Iron Man 3; Avengers Tower; Bruce Banner & Tony Stark; Bruce Banner & Reader; heavy exposition)

Challenge: “120 Bits of Random” challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag list: @imaginesfire​

Broadway

The nice thing about Bruce deciding to stick around in Manhattan was that he was always available to serve as a distraction. Whenever Tony got annoyed or bored or even just a wild hair, he would declare it past time for a trip to the east coast. He assured Bruce he only did so to make sure the tower was still standing, but you lived with Tony and knew better. It was never “let’s check on the tower.” Instead, it was always, “Do you miss Bruce? I miss Bruce. We’re gonna go visit Bruce.”

It didn’t take long for you to like Tony’s friend, even after the somewhat startling reveal of who, exactly, Dr. Bruce Banner was. Soon, though you rolled your eyes and always acted like having to pack your things and travel across the country at the last minute was an inconvenience, you grew to like these surprise trips. New York City was always good for a change of pace, and you enjoyed seeing Bruce almost as much as Tony did–almost, because half the time you couldn’t understand what Bruce was saying. Tony normally got lost in the upper-level discussion in a matter of minutes upon arrival as well. But you never felt purposely left out or unwanted.

When Tony had suggested this most recent trip, however, you had practically jumped at the chance. The timing could not have been better; your first anniversary was on that Friday. You had never been a particularly romantic or forward person (which begged the question of how Tony had noticed you in the first place), and the thought of what your boyfriend might do to celebrate the occasion terrified you, especially as you had not the money nor the imagination to match whatever his gift would be. With Bruce there to distract him, Tony could very well entirely forget your anniversary. Then you could leave his present outside the laboratory door and enjoy a peaceful evening alone.

As far as you could tell, your plan worked out. Tony did not mention the upcoming date once. You kept your tiny wrapped gift in a small compartment on your bag throughout the entire week. Then Friday arrived–your anniversary and last day in Manhattan. The three of you were going into New York City to see a musical before you had to say goodbye for another couple of months at least. You were loitering in the kitchen and giving your appearance a few last minute adjustments when Bruce walked in.

“Oh, hey, [Name]. You look nice.” 

He smiled, and you smiled back. After he and Tony had explained to you about Bruce’s little Hulk problem, Bruce had been very skittish around you for quite a while. It was nice to see that things were getting back to normal.

“You…too,” you said, frowning. It had only just then occurred to you that Bruce was wearing his usual solid-color button-up and khaki pants. Not that he looked bad or anything, but, “Why aren’t you dressed up?”

He paused with his hand around one of the oranges from the kitchen island. “Should I be?”

“I thought so. But you probably know more about New York City customs than I do. Do you think I should go change?”

It only took his face crinkling with confusion for you to realize that something weird was going on. Then he went and added to that feeling by asking, “Why are you going to the city?”

At that very moment, the door opened again, and this time Tony walked inside. He was every bit as dressed up as you were. He seemed to not even notice Bruce standing there, looking bemused. 

“You’re here, great.” Tony clapped his hands, then gestured with both thumbs towards the door. “Ready to go?”

Obviously, the answer was yes, but you weren’t quite ready to leave now. Instead, you lifted one eyebrow and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Tony,” you said slowly, “Why is Bruce not coming with us?”

“What do you mean? He’s waiting in the car.”

“Tony,” said Bruce. By then his bemusement had changed into outright amusement. 

Tony winced as soon as he spotted him.

“He’s not even dressed up for it, Tony, and he had no idea we were going to the city at all.”

“You two aren’t supposed to talk to each other without me there to supervise,” Tony said, pointing first at you, and then at Bruce. 

You caught each other’s eye; Bruce grinned. It was all very well and good for him to be entertained, but you had a creeping suspicion that your night was not going to go the way you had planned. Sighing, you walked over to stand next to Tony.

“What’s going on?” you asked. “And don’t say nothing. Bruce will back me up on it being something.”

You watched as Tony’s eyes flicked between your face and whatever it was Bruce was doing with his orange now that you were no longer watching. Tony’s shoulders lifted for a brief moment, then he let out a long breath and suddenly backed down. With a sigh of his own, he pressed the palm of his hand into the space above his right eye.

“Fine. It’s something. Can we go now?”

“Not until you tell me what the something is.”

He groaned. When you made to walk past him into the hallway with the clear intention of not accompanying him anywhere, he took you by the shoulders to prevent you going further. 

“Fine,” he said again. “It’s just going to be you and me going to the musical. That was always the plan. I never even invited Bruce.”

Automatically, you took a step backward. “I don’t think–”

“See, I knew this was how you were going to react. You think that since you don’t come from the same sort of background as me that I shouldn’t treat you. So I had to get you to Manhattan for the week without giving away my plan so I could take you to a musical.”

“That’s too expensive to do for me,” you protested.

“Why does Bruce being there make such a big difference?”

“Because I–I don’t deserve it!”

Tony’s eyes fixed on yours, unreadable as they bored straight into your head. You expected a lecture (as always happened when you reminded him that you were an average person with no great skills or heroism to speak of), but to your surprise, one did not come. To prevent yourself from seeing his disappointment, you closed your eyes. Then you felt his lips press against yours. He stopped as soon as he noticed your eyes open again.

“I love you. It’s our anniversary. I know you like theater, so I did all this to take you to take you to the theater. I won’t try to convince you you are worth it, because we’ll just end up bickering all night, but will you please let me take you?”

It took every ounce of will power you had to not just blurt “no” and go running out of the building. “What about Bruce?”

“What about him?” Tony said. “It’s not his anniversary with me. That was what,” he looked around until he spotted Bruce back over by the island, “two months ago?”

“And you forgot,” Bruce said, smiling again.

Tony winked as he grabbed your hand. “I’ll make it up to you. But tonight, it’s just me and [Name].”

“By all means.”

Just as you opened your mouth to let out another sound of protest, Tony returned his attention to you. “Look, I already bought the tickets, so I’ve spent the money regardless, and I don’t believe in scalping. Let me take you out just this once, as your present to me for the evening.”

Slow heat crept up your cheeks. That was the kind of thing that always got you to play right into Tony’s hands. You’d already got him a present, but it was a small thing and probably wouldn’t be very impressive. If this was all he wanted…

You felt yourself nod before you had even fully realized that you’d given up yourself. 

A wide grin shot across Tony’s face. “Excellent. Be back later, Bruce! Much later!”

And before you even had time to ponder the implications of that last statement, Tony had whisked you out of the kitchen and downstairs to the limousine idling outside.

[babyboibucky]

Project V

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You ask Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

Word Count: 4,233

Warnings: SMUT hehehe

A/N: This was supposed to be short but I enjoyed writing their banter wayyyy too much. And oh, this isn’t a friend to lovers trope lol and I have no plans for a second part to this. It is what is is for these two ;)

Edit: Will be doing ficlets for this AU every once in a while! Check out the first one linked below!

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“You want me to what?”

Your best friend, Bucky choked on his own spit upon hearing your question. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at you in disbelief, you didn’t even know his eyes could get that big.

The sun was high up in the sky, it was barely noon and the two of you were simply walking into the campus when you asked him such favor. Bucky almost wondered whether you were drunk to even think of that.

“You want me to what?” Bucky repeated when you didn’t say anything, his elbow nudging your side as the two of you continued to walk along the pavement.

Letting out a sigh, you shrugged and repeated your favor with utter nonchalance.

“I want you to take my v-card. You know, my virginity?” You said, annoyed that he couldn’t seem to comprehend your simple request.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and tugged your shirt, pulling you back when you didn’t stop walking. His face was the epitome of confusion with his forehead creased, brows furrowed and lips open agape.

“Is there no other way for you to say that without making me cringe?” He asked.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned. “What did you want me to say? ‘Bucky, deflower me with your magic stick’?” You said sarcastically.

Bucky gagged at your words and shuddered. “But why? Why the fuck would you even consider that?” He asked. He simply couldn’t understand why.

You continued walking ahead and slowed down your pace until Bucky decided to catch up. “We’re graduating from college in less than a year and I’ve heard you boast about your bedroom skills. I don’t wanna leave college without getting fucked, Bucky. And since I’m still single and probably will be for the next few months, I put two and two and voila!”

Bucky snickered, “You gotta be kidding me.” He said.

“Why? Scared that I might find out that your dick ain’t working well?” You teased, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

He snorted, “Umm excuse me, this dick is the best dick that you’ll ever have. I just don’t want to ruin other guys for you.” He boasted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Then do me the favor.” You said, as a matter-of-factly.

Bucky turned to you with a smirk, the kind that made any girl on the receiving end, bend down on their knees for him. You were going to admit it, that look made your insides churn. In a good way.

“Oh, I’ll do you alright. When do you want it to happen?” He finally asked.

You stopped walking again and fist pumped in victory. “Friday night. At your dorm. And please, don’t make it weird with romantic gestures. I just wanna get fucked real good.”

“Well, if that’s the case then it’s a deal. Let’s shake on it to make it official.” Bucky said.

The two of you did your signature high-five to seal the deal.

-

You knocked on Bucky’s room and let out a sigh when it took him quite a while to open it. Although it was going to be your first time, you weren’t really nervous about it. Besides, you trusted Bucky and if there’s any guy you won’t regret having sex with, it would be him.

There were a few noises from inside that made you roll your eyes. The door finally opened, revealing a flustered Bucky with an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“The fuck took you so long?” You huffed out and stepped inside, surprised at how neat his dorm looked like.

His roommate Steve had always been organized but seeing Bucky’s side of the room all neat? It was a sigh to behold. You looked at your best friend with a stoic look, “Why’d you clean?”

Bucky closed the door and locked it, running his fingers through his hair as he shrugged. “I just wanted to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine, I cleaned. I didn’t want you to think I’m disgusting.” he reasoned out.

You stared at him pointedly, “I don’t care about that shit, I’m just here to get fucked. Besides, I’m used to your mess. I said don’t make it weird, jesus.”

Bucky groaned, “You asking me to fuck you is weird in its entirety. How can I not make things weird?!” He complained.

You sat on his bed and unzipped your jacket, revealing a bottle of tequila hidden beneath. “This is how we make things not weird.”

Two shots later and Bucky was finally loosening up to the idea of being the one to take your virginity. He prepared for this to be honest, forced asked Steve to stay over at Peggy’s for the weekend and worked out immediately right after formalizing the deal.

“Do we have rules?” He asked.

“We’ll stay best friends after this. No weird feelings or whatever.” You told him to which he nodded in agreement.

“And just please do your best to make my first time good.” You whined.

Bucky craned his neck and stretched out his arms, “Alright, okay. I got this.” He said. “You ready?” He asked you.

You inhaled and let out a long breath, “Yeah, okay let’s do this.”

Bucky started by leaning in, placing a hand on your neck as he did so. You were ready for a kiss but he immediately stopped before you could even close your eyes.

“Do you know how—“

“I’ve made out with guys, Bucky. Jesus christ, I’m not that inexperienced.” You explained before looking at Bucky expectantly, urging him to continue.

“Should we drink again?” he proposed, obviously still feeling awkward.

“Fuck no, I don’t wanna do this drunk. I want to remember my first time, idiot. Can you just...” you groaned. “Just kiss me?” you asked, well, more like commanded.

Bucky apologized before deciding to just go for it. Snaking his hand back to your neck, he leaned in and kisses your lips. He started off slow and gentle, trying to get a feel of how you liked to be kissed. Bucky was definitely weirded out for kissing you, his best friend that he had known since first grade. Surprisingly, you were good at kissing, like really really good and this spurred Bucky to level up by taking your lower lip in between his teeth.

A small whine escaped your parted lips, allowing Bucky to slide his tongue into your mouth. You let out another whimper when you felt his tongue on yours, your hands falling onto Bucky’s thighs for leverage.

Just as when the kiss was starting to get heated, Bucky pulled away slightly before gazing down at your chest.

“Can I touch your boob?” He asked breathlessly.

And there goes the momentum.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You sound like a fucking virgin. And that’s coming from me, an actual virgin.” You said with disappointment.

“I’m sorry! It’s just... it’s not that I find you unattractive. You’re my best friend and I just don’t want to disrespect you!” He reasoned out.

As much as you wanted to get annoyed, you found Bucky really sweet for considering that. But good god, you’ve been wanting to get fucked and respect was the last thing on your mind right now.

“By all means, Bucky...please disrespect me and fuck me because my pussy’s been wet since this morning and I’m about to explode if you still don’t do anything.” You said exasperatedly.

Your vulgar words were all that Bucky needed because as soon you were done complaining, he wasted no time to grab your face to kiss you. This time, it was all teeth and tongue and you weren’t complaining. This was the kind of performance that you were expecting from Bucky and finally he was giving it to you.

One of his hands moved to cradle your head while his other slide down to your waist, moving you to straddle his lap as he sat on his bed. You let out a soft squeal when you felt the tent in his pants rub against your crotch, causing you to grab onto Bucky’s wide shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re already hard.” You panted against Bucky’s lips.

“Yeah well, I just realized you aren’t wearing a bra.” He responded before fisting the hem of your shirt, bunching it up until you lifted your arms up so he could remove it.

Bucky wasted no time to bend forward, taking a nipple into his mouth making you moan out loud.

“Hoooly fuck, Bucky. That feels so good.” You pant, pushing your breasts forward as you thread your fingers into Bucky’s hair.

Your body trembled from pleasure as Bucky continued to lap at your breast, his hand coming up to palm the other before tweaking your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. Unknowingly, you started rutting your hips against Bucky’s crotch, seeking friction to relieve the growing throb in your core.

Bucky lifted you up off from him and laid you down on his bed as he left kisses from your neck down to the valley of your breasts until he reached your stomach. He unzipped your shorts and pulled it down together with your soaked underwear, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy.

“Fuuuccckkk...” he rasped out, nipping the insides of your thighs as he pressed them down with his palms, opening you up to him.

“Have you ever been eaten out?” He asked, nudging his nose onto the skin of your bikini line.

You swallowed hard and shook your head, chest heaving as you anticipated for Bucky’s next move. “No.” You answered breathily and threw an arm over your eyes.

“Hold tight.” It was the last thing your brain was able to comprehend because Bucky immediately licked your entrance up until he reached your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue making your toes curl.

“Ohhhh my god...” you moaned, your back involuntarily arching from the bed.

You felt Bucky’s lips curl into a smirk against your sensitive folds, almost wanting to smack his head for his cockiness. But then again, this was the reason why you wanted your first time to be with him. You’ve heard your friends share stories about how their first time went and majority ended up being either a huge let down or downright scary. You didn’t want your first time story to be like theirs so it was only right for you to ask Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

And so far, you weren’t regretting it one bit. Well, save maybe for what could happen afterwards. Whether this would affect your friendship with Bucky but right now, all you could focus on was how his tongue was skillfully fucking your cunt.

Your eyes popped open when you felt a finger prod at your entrance, your hand quickly grabbing Bucky’s wrist to stop him from further pushing a finger in.

“Wait, I’ve never been fingered.” You admitted, bringing your body up and leaning back against your elbows.

Bucky looked up at you and the scene was straight out of those female POV porn you’ve watched. His hair was sticking up in different directions, face in between your legs and his lips glistening with your juices. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the sight.

“You mean you never tried fingering yourself?” He asked, turning his head to press an open-mouthed kiss onto your thigh.

You shook your head, “I tried but it kinda hurts?” You told him meekly.

Bucky grinned before crawling up your body until his face was inches away from yours. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Lay back.” He said, voice rough and low, leaving goosebumps in your wake.

Following Bucky’s order, you lay down on his bed and relax as he positioned himself on his side. He began kissing your ear, sucking your lobe as his hand went down to your pussy, spreading your lips open.

“Just relax, okay? Can’t fuck you with my cock just yet, gotta make sure you can take it.” He whispered into your ear.

Bucky started rubbing your pussy, spreading your wetness around before slowly pushing a finger in. You winced in pain, grabbing Bucky’s wrist to slow him down.

“You can take it, just relax.” He coaxed and you nodded, turning your head to kiss him.

Bucky returned the kiss, helping take your mind off of the way he was pushing in his finger until he was knuckle-deep into your pussy. There was a slight sting but bearable enough for you to let him continue with his movements. You felt his finger slide out and then back in with ease, the pain slowly transforming into a different kind of pleasure as he went on. Next thing you know, your hips were already moving to meet Bucky’s finger.

“Gonna add in another one, okay?” He breathed into your lips before biting your lower lip.

“Ow, ow, ow!” You cried out and slapped Bucky’s hand away from your pussy when he tried to insert another finger without even slowing down.

“The fuck, Bucky! Slow down, sweet jesus...” you snapped, frowning when Bucky responded with a chuckle.

“Sorry! I’m losing my patience here, I want to finger fuck you so bad.” He admitted, whispering another apology against your lips.

You relaxed and let Bucky rub your pussy again, gathering your wetness and pushing a finger in. A few more pumps and he carefully inserted another finger, swallowing the whimpers coming out of your mouth.

You stiffened a bit, biting your lip as you tried to ignore the stretch that you were feeling. “You good?” Bucky asked, waiting for you to nod before fully pushing his fingers in.

His movements were slow and careful then, helping you adjust to the stretch of having two of his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. Soon enough, you were moaning against Bucky’s lips as he increased the pace of his fingers. You could hear how wet you were and you never really thought it was possible for you to be this soaked. All the times you touched yourself, you got pretty wet...but not this wet. When Bucky said that he fingered like a god, you laughed at his face but now, fuck. He really wasn’t lying about it.

“Fuck, so tight. Can’t wait to slide my cock into your pussy.” He grunted and moved on top of you, pulling his fingers out making you whine.

He sucked his fingers while maintaining eye contact, making you blush timidly at the lewdness of his action. But god, you were so right for giving Bucky the honor of fucking you because his fingers alone brought you so much pleasure. What more if he actually started to fuck you?

“Gotta fuck you now. I’m so hard I feel like I’m about to bust a nut anytime now.” Bucky said, sitting up to remove his shirt, followed by his jeans.

He was in the process of unzipping his jeans when he suddenly stopped and looked at you, sprawled on the bed looking utterly fucked when he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

“Will you still suck my dick after I make you cum?” He asked hopefully.

You laughed out loud at his question, “You look so worried right now.” You teased. “But yes, fine. I’ll suck your cock later.” You reassured before sitting up to help him remove his pants.

Bucky then slid his boxers off, revealing his cock that you may or may not have seen in the past. It was an accident though and you didn’t meant to barge into his dorm while he was dressing up. You gotta admit, your best friend was blessed with a huge dick. And now said dick, will be the first one to enter your virgin pussy.

“Like what you see?” Bucky teased when he caught you staring as he put on a condom.

You smirked, “Actually I do.”

Bucky licked his lips as he laid on top of you, supporting his weight using his forearms as he positioned himself in between your legs. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, nodding and lifting your head up a bit to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Okay, I think I’m ready.” You whispered.

Bucky nodded too and nuzzled his face into your neck, “You sure?” He asked again.

You hummed, “Good luck and don’t fuck it up.”

Bucky lifted his head and looked at you incredulously, “Did you just...”

“Quote RuPaul before having sex for the first time? Yeah, I did.” You quickly answered.

Bucky scrutinized you, “You planned that didn’t you?”

You made a face, “Maybe.” You said, before the both of you broke into huge smiles.

Bucky laughed before kissing you again, “I fucking knew it.” He said before his face turned serious. “Ready?” he asked.

You nodded your head again, taking in deep breath as Bucky reached down to rub his cock against your pussy, making you whine. Kissing you again, Bucky lined up his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in until you gasped out in pain.

“You wanna keep going?” He asked worriedly, seeing your frown.

You closed your eyes and nodded, “Yeah. Just...just do it slowly.” You said.

Your hands went to grip Bucky’s back, nails digging into his skin as he pushed and pushed, until he was balls deep inside you. The pain wasn’t that bad, but it did feel like you were being torn apart. The veins in Bucky’s neck started to bulge out from the way he was holding himself back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so good, I think I’m gonna cum if I move.” He grunted, nosing the skin beneath your ear.

“Please don’t make this embarrassing for both of us.” You said. “You can move now.” You added.

Bucky slid all the way out, leaving the tip inside of you before pushing back in slowly. You let out a moan, both from pain and pleasure. His thrusts started off slow, helping you adjust to his girth and gauging your reaction.

One particular high-pitched moan gave it away. It was at that moment that the pain turned into nothing but pleasure and a few more languid thrusts later, you were chanting Bucky’s name and begging for him to go faster.

You felt so full and you simply couldn’t explain how good it felt getting fucked like this. Bucky kept on whispering praises into your ear, spurring you on as he thrusted in and out of you. The bed started to creak, the headboard hitting the wall as Bucky quickened the pace of his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning his name as you felt your abdomen tighten. You could feel it coming, an impending orgasm that you’ve only been imagining. Not even your fingers rubbing your clit made you feel this way, like there was electricity running through your veins.

“Bucky, fuck...I think...” you panted, hands sliding down to grab his ass, pulling him further to you.

“Can feel it, can feel you pulsating around my cock.” Bucky panted.

Your body stilled, toes curling and vision blurring when Bucky thrusted into you at a certain angle. Just like that, you let go and moaned out loud as Bucky continued to fuck an orgasm out of you. Biting onto his shoulder, you rode out the remaining waves of your climax before laying your head back onto the pillow, watching Bucky as he followed after you, spilling his seed into the condom after a few more thrusts.

“Holy fucking shit...” he breathed out, letting his body fall onto yours.

There was a moment of silence as the both of you recovered, your pants echoing in the room. Bucky was the first to move, sliding his softening cock out of you and sitting up as he removed the condom. He went into his bathroom and disposed of it before walking back to the bed with a wet wash cloth in his hand.

“Are you still going to suck my dick?” Bucky broke the silence as he casually cleaned you up.

You lifted your head up, “Are you still hard?”

Bucky shrugged, “I can be if you want me to be.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” you simply responded.

“So, how did I do?” Bucky asked, continuing to clean you up in between your legs.

You bled a bit, but not to the point of staining his sheets thank god. When you didn’t respond, Bucky worried that you might have regretted this but instead, he found you grinning up at the ceiling like an idiot.

“The fuck you looking like that?” He asked, unable to hold back the smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed and closed your legs, wincing a bit at the soreness but quickly recovering. “I can’t believe we just had sex.” You said.

Bucky set aside the towel and laid back next to you, “I certainly hope I did not fuck that up.” He said.

You turned to your side and smiled at Bucky, “You didn’t. Thanks, Buck.”

There didn’t seem to be any tension nor awkwardness between the both of you after. It was pretty normal actually. After taking a bath, you both decided to order pizza for late dinner. More conversations took place until you both fell asleep on the same bed.

-

A series of knocks stirred you and Bucky awake. He was spooning you when you woke up, his arm wrapped around your waist while his face was pressed on the back of your neck. You thought you were dreaming but the knocks continued and a familiar chorus of voices made you and Bucky sit up in panic.

“James, honey? It’s your mom. Open up!”

You and Bucky looked at each other, “Why the fuck is your mom here?!” You whispered and frantically searched for your clothes.

You slept in one of Bucky’s shirts and a pair of panties and for some reason, you couldn’t find your clothes from last night. Bucky frantically ran around the dorm, grabbing your bag and throwing it under Steve’s bed.

“I don’t know why she’s here! She didn’t text me!” He whispered, checking his phone for any unread messages.

“James, come on now. We want to visit Y/N too so we can all have breakfast together.”

You knew that voice all too well, it was your mom’s! Bucky’s eyes widened when he heard you mom’s voice. He just took away her daughter’s virginity last night, how the hell was he going to look at her in the eyes after that?

Bucky grabbed your arm and pushed you into the bathroom, warning you to stay quiet. You were about to protest but Bucky quickly slammed the door shut. Pressing an ear against it, you listened as Bucky hurried over to the front door, opening it.

“Mom!” You heard him say before greeting your mom.

“Sweetie, did you just wake up? You look like a mess.” His mom said.

“What are you guys doing here?” Bucky asked nervously.

There were a few movements that were too near the bathroom, you almost readied yourself for a grand reveal. Fortunately, Bucky seemed to have blocked the bathroom and tried to distract his mom.

“Well, we thought of surprising you and Y/N. We missed you both. Go get dressed so we can pick her up from her dorm.” You heard your mom say.

“Ohhh I uhh...why don’t you both head out first and I can go pick her up? We’ll just meet you both somewhere.” Bucky suggested.

“Oh sweetie, I wanted to surprise my daughter at her dorm.” Your mom said.

Fuck. You were so fucked. Your mom’s gonna find out that you’re no longer a virgin and that it was Bucky who took it. The same guy she entrusted you to upon moving out for college.

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t tell her we’ll be meeting you. She’s uhh...I think she might have slept over at a friend’s actually. To do a project. So she might not be at her dorm. I’ll just pick her up.” Bucky quickly explained.

Sleepover at a friend’s? That wasn’t entirely a lie. The project? Well, the task of giving up your v-card could be considered a project. So no, Bucky wasn’t lying to your mom at all.

Silence. A few more shuffling and movements here and there. You heard the front door creak. Finally.

“Oh alright, James. We’ll go ahead. Meet us at the new breakfast place two blocks away from the university, okay?” His mom said.

You heaved out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there.” Bucky said and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be pushing both your moms out of his room.

“Make sure to pick Y/N up. I know she tends to skip out on our breakfast dates. Make sure that she’ll come, James.” Your mom warned.

True enough, you tended to bail out on your mom’s breakfast dates. Not because you don’t miss her, but because it was too early! You’ve turned her down a couple of times now so you knew what she meant. But Bucky, god. He just had to make everything into a double entendre.

And without shame, he looked into your mom’s eyes and offered her a charming grin as if he wasn’t balls deep inside her virgin daughter last night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she does. I’ll make her come.”

-

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[citrinesparkles]

doctor todd.

jason todd x gender neutral vigilante!reader. 1,875 words. notes: requested by @jason-redhood as part of my hundred followers celebration! this got a lot longer than i intended, oopsies. thanks for requesting- hope you enjoy! warnings: tending wounds, mentions of food.

"y'know, lurking outside somebody's window is a good way to get yourself shot," jason called over his shoulder.

"i'll keep that in mind," you said, voice strained enough to shoot dread into his veins and draw his attention completely away from his work.

he set the gun he had been cleaning on the table and twisted around to find you gingerly sliding through the open window.

"hey," you mumbled, giving him a weak wave after your boots hit the floor. "sorry for not calling, i just..."

you were backlit, the glow of the city making it impossible to see your features from the dining area- but your posture alone was enough to have him shoving his chair back and crossing his apartment.

"how bad?" he asked, stopping a few steps back, now able to make out the tears in your suit and the bruises around your mask.

"pretty sure i sprained my wrist, and there's a poorly-bandaged gash on my leg, but otherwise i'm peachy."

"how bad's the leg?"

"i'm... not sure. bad enough that i think i need your help." you patted the windowsill with a gloved hand. "obviously."

he nodded and slid to your good side, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "okay. c'mon, my stuff's in the bathroom."

-

"here." he handed you a pair of shorts and a large tank top. "change into this so i can get to the wounds, okay? i'll be right out here if you need anything."

-

"you're good!" you called.

he nudged the bathroom door back open and scooped your uniform up from the floor, carefully putting it in a canvas bag and tying the handles together before setting it in the tub to deal with later. "alright," he sighed, turning back to face you.

his clothes looked way too right on you, he realized, a wave of emotion he would vehemently deny surging through his chest and pushing heat to his neck and cheeks.

"alright?"

"okay. alright. uh-" he jerked a thumb at the counter- "up here, i guess, so i can see your leg."

you propped one foot on the toilet lid and braced your good hand against his shoulder, his hands instinctively coming up to hover around your waist as you pushed yourself up and settled next to the sink.

the grateful smile you gave him was enough to tug his lips into a smile of his own.

"you're up, doctor todd," you teased.

he stepped forward with a halfhearted eyeroll, fingers brushing the cloth tied hastily around your leg. "can i take this off?"

"go ahead."

he tugged gently at the knot, wincing when you inhaled sharply. "sorry."

the scrap fell away, revealing dried blood and an open wound on the outside of your thigh.

"yeesh, that is nasty," he said.

you scoffed lightly. "gee, thanks."

"hey, if you wanted a nice doctor, you probably should have gone somewhere else." he shifted to the side, grabbing a clean cloth and bottle of alcohol. "fair warning, you're really not gonna like me here in a minute."

your quick "i seriously doubt that." was greeted with a grin that felt a little too fond for his liking.

he told himself it was for your benefit.

...yeah, that sounded good.

he could live with that.

-

he made quick work of cleaning the gash, doing his best to distract you by making stupid small talk about the horrible movie he'd sat through that morning because the tv remote had been out of reach and the mediocre new coffee shop with dry blueberry muffins.

"was the coffee okay, at least?"

"okay, yeah, but not 'five-dollars-fifty' okay. if i hadn't been falling asleep in line i probably would have left when i saw the price."

"there's a nice one up by my place, they make the best blueberry muffins ever."

he hummed. "i'll keep that in mind, next time i'm over that way." he leaned back, studying your cut. "i think stitches would probably be smart."

you groaned. "of course they would."

"i'm okay to do them- i do them on myself- but if you want i can give you a lift to a hospital or something."

"no. if you can, i want you to do them. i trust you."

he sat with that for a minute, searching your face for any hesitation. when he found none, he nodded. "okay."

-

as you both expected, it sucked.

to make things worse, he was rapidly running out of mindless things to talk about.

how many times could two people really argue about pizza toppings before it got old?

-

"alright, done."

"holy shit, finally." you slumped back, leaning on your good hand for a moment before your head snapped back up. "no, not like- i meant thank you, you did great, i'm not being an ingrate-"

"i know, relax." he nudged your knee with a goofy smile. "here, gimme your wrist."

you pouted (which, yes, that was also adorable, much to his dismay), carefully stretching your bad arm out.

he took your hand gently, scooping it up in one of his and bracing your forearm up with his other. "it's actually not too bad, considering you hit hard enough to tear your glove. i'm gonna clean the scrapes here up, though, okay?"

"do i really get a choice?"

"it's your body, so, yeah."

you sighed dramatically. "fine, if you insist. go ahead, clean my wounds for me."

-

he was quiet this time, focusing intently on removing bits of dirt and stuff from your raw palm with a set of tweezers.

trying to ignore the way your eyes seemed to linger on him now that he was looking down.

he set the tweezers aside, glancing up at you to find you smiling at him thoughtfully, and dropped his gaze just as quickly as he had lifted it. "what, you enjoying making me do all the work?"

"you could say that, yeah."

he scoffed. "well, you're going to enjoy it a lot less in a second. time for the alcohol again."

"ugh."

-

he managed to dig up an old wrist brace in the back of his sock drawer. a little big for you, but it would work for now, he figured.

"may i?"

you nodded and held your arm back out for him to loop the brace over your thumb and tuck the velcro strap under and around, pulling it snug against your skin before sticking it to itself.

-

"last one, tough stuff." he pointed at your cheek, where a small patch of dried blood stained your skin. "ready?'

you nodded tiredly. "let's just get this over with. this counter isn't as comfortable as it looks."

he chuckled, dampening the softest cloth he had and wringing it out. "sorry, i didn't think i needed to get an apartment with counter cushions." he raised his left hand up, hovering an inch or so below your chin. "uh, can i..?"

your eyes widened, glancing at his hand. "oh, uh, sure. yeah."

he moved slowly, raising it to cup your chin softly with his middle and forefinger on one side and thumb on the other. "this okay?"

"mhm." your eyes slid shut and he could almost believe that you sank into his touch.

if it wasn't absolutely insane, anyway. his touch wasn't exactly the kind people sank into- much less people like you. people that good, that caring, that stunning? yeah, no.

he tilted your head to the side slightly, rubbing gentle circles across your cheekbone with the cloth and watching as the blood faded.

"so, who did this?" he asked softly, casually.

apparently not casually enough, though, because you snorted at him. "why, you think you need to go avenge me? defend my honor or something?"

"no! i'm just curious. just... making conversation."

your eyes opened, amusement dancing in them and threatening to hypnotize him. "good. i shouldn't have to tell you who won that fight, jay."

"well, i mean, you are missing a chunk of your thigh."

"aw, is the big bad vigilante worried about lil old me?"

he squeezed your face gently, pushing your cheeks up and forward into a goofy fish face. "it's rude to tease the guy tending to your wounds, babe."

he definitely didn't imagine your breath hitching. "babe, huh?" you asked playfully.

"shut up," he grumbled. "don't make me regret helping."

-

"alright, looks like that's the last scrape. you're all cleaned up."

"thanks, jason." you smiled up at him, soft and warm and genuine. "i really appreciate this."

"yeah, yeah." he squeezed your jaw again. "try not to make it a habit."

"mhm." a moment passed quietly before you spoke quietly. "so, you gonna do something here, or can i have my face back?"

he froze.

your mouth- which he was really trying not to look at- shifted into a confident smirk, a challenge written clearly in the angle of your lips.

your eyes, bright under the harsh lighting, told a different story. one of vulnerability, and want, and something close to fear.

"do you want me to?" his voice was hoarser than he'd intended, and he swore you could hear his heartbeat echoing in it.

your gaze dipped to his lips. "would it make everything super weird?"

"you just came crawling through my window in the middle of the night in a mask and kevlar. i think things are already weird."

he felt your hum under his fingers. "then why not?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"jason, will you please just kiss me already?"

"well, you did say please." he leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to slip away or yell 'sike!'

all you did was bring your good hand up to his collar and pull him towards you.

your lips were soft and gentle, and the way they pulled upwards slightly when his hand slid from your jaw to cup your cheek was something he'd be thinking about for weeks.

when he eventually pulled back, it took him a moment to open his eyes. he was half convinced that if he did, it would be to his bedroom ceiling, the past half an hour all a dream.

instead, he found your fond gaze.

"finally."

he let out a huff of laughter, thumb running over your cheek. "you should stay here tonight."

"w-"

"not like that," he clarified quickly. "you have stitches, you shouldn't go leaping across rooftops tonight. i can take the couch."

"hm." you smoothed out his shirt collar, the barely-there brush of your fingers against his shoulder almost tugging a whine out of him. "or i can take the couch, and then you can take me home in the morning and let me treat you to an actual blueberry muffin."

"are you asking me out?" it was a teasing comment, paired with a tiny smirk meant to fluster you.

but it was also a reality check.

you seemed to catch the second meaning. "yeah, i am. would you, please, let me take you out on a date?"

"i'll have to check my calenda-"

"you're so full of it."

"yeah, probably."

"is that a yes?"

he laughed, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your knee. "yeah, i can let you take me on a date. i could use a good muffin."

[captain-kinda-trash]

Hello love! I hope I’m one of your first asks!!! 😍

Can I order up a new love/confessing feelings with a side of fluff, a la Bayverse Donatello please?! 💜

Sure thing lovely!! Hope you enjoy!!

Truck Repairs (Bayverse! Donatello x Fem! Reader)

"Torque wrench please."

"Got it."

The slap of cool metal against scales resounded from underneath the Turtle Truck (a name Y/N commonly used, much to her companion's distaste), as Donnie was handed yet another tool from the plastic box next to his feet.

"Thank you." He huffed out. The cranking of gears, clinking of iron echoed out from the truck.

"Sure thing, Don," The girl said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the turtle's legs, "How much longer do you think this should take?" Her eyes stole an extensive glance at those toned, long, delicious-looking limbs. Wait. What? That didn't come from her mind again, did it?

Of course, it did. When did it not? Donatello sighed, voice floating out from below the massive machine, and then the wheels of his skateboard rolled against the cement as he uses his feet to pull his body from underneath.

"Uh, I'm not sure. The damage inflicted on the lower regions of the compression body is pretty tremendous. It could take up a few days, weeks even, if not strategically maneuvered-" he pushed the goggles from his eyes to settle comfortably on the top of his head, revealing the glittering hue of those beautiful amber eyes, "But it seems to be going well at the moment."

His mouth cutely curled up into a smile, one that never failed to release a cocoon of uncaged butterflies in Y/N's stomach.

She grinned back, and then shyly turned to study the soles of her shoes, evidently more interesting than looking at his uncannily handsome face.

"That's good to hear. Maybe we should take a break soon. You've been working like crazy since you got back from patrol."

His smile very subtly faded at this suggestion, though he made sure that his friend didn't catch it. Donnie enjoyed this company that she provided working with him on the truck's repairs, much more than he was willing to admit. Though, yes, he could use a nice break, maybe grab a snack or glass of water, the mutant knew surely that nothing fueled his cravings like her sweet presence (incomparably rich to the taste of his beloved pop tarts).

And if the same wasn't in her book about him, then by gods...

I mean sure, he's a mutant. Gross right?

Wrong. So, so very wrong.

"Y-yeah I guess we could take a little break." He responded, then let out a sort of struggled grunt as his body lifted to sit upwards and rest his shell on the side of the garbage truck.

Y/N's eyes wandered once more at the marvelous rolling and extending of his muscles as he did so, draping a single sturdy arm across one knee and using the other to adjust his glasses. She gulped. Her gaze shamelessly traveled to the seemingly endless length of his legs, until she caught the quick movement of his head in her peripheral.

She immediately averted her stare, back down to the laces of her converse, trying to subside the heat crawling quickly over her neck.

"T-tell you what, why don't I go grab you a snack, and you stay here and see if there's anything else we can do." Y/N pushed herself up from the ground and before Donnie could respond, she had already scampered out of the workshop to avoid any further humiliation.

"O-okay!" He called after her, though the likeliness of hearing him was probably far gone since she was already in the kitchen by then.

Y/N grasped the bridge of her nose between her for dinner and thumb, letting out an exasperated sigh as the tap water still poured, pattering against the metal sink.

'He totally caught me staring,' she thought. Though her self-control was usually tempered, easily under restraint, it melted into a helpless puddle when Donatello's presence was made known around her. Hell, even passing up the open doorway of his lab as he worked was a strain, and Y/N found herself peeking in curiously as his eyes fixated carefully, passionately over a project as he worked.

It took every willful ounce in her body not to just snatch the tails of his violet bandana and yank him in for a savory kiss every time he was a few feet away from her.

Her brain, exhausted from such thoughts, tried to focus on her footfalls, the wrinkle of pop-tart wrappers, the clinking of ice against glass cups, a cool contrast against Y/N's warm arms.

She halted directly outside of the workshop, inhaled, exhaled, and then rounded the corner to see-

Nobody? Weird. Perhaps Donnie had gone to his lab to grab more tools or just put them away since the aforementioned bucket of appliances had gone missing right along with their possessor.

"Huh. Weird." Y/N thought aloud, and then after looking over her shoulder and out of the doorway, she decided that she might check out the inside of the truck. After all, it had been some time since she'd seen it and was rarely able to because of the lack of missions she joined in on.

She set the two cups of water and foil packages gently on a nearby bench, before making her way towards the rear entrance. Y/N's hands settled on the large iron handle wrapping their small extent around it and then pulled down with all of her strength.

Man, the brothers made it look so easy, and by the time the lever reached its lowest point with a loud click, she had managed to work up a bit of a sweat.

The door, a huge garage-like lift system on the back end of the truck, began to lift, creaking and groaning as it did so. Y/N smiled, eyes glancing down carefully as her feet made contact with each rising step into the truck.

However, her plan had been spoiled, if you could even call it that. Because, just as she was entering the vehicle, it seemed Donatello would be exciting. As Y/N looked up from the final footstep, and Donnie from his tech pad, their noses and mouths bumped, and all was still. Both of their bright eyes were wide with shock and unbearable mortification at the sensation of petal-soft skin against cool scales, lips awkwardly resting upon one another.

They both pulled away as fast as they had come together, though Y/N had been so caught up in her humiliation, that she forgot about the staircase behind her and lost footing. An abrupt shout escaped her lips, helplessly flailing her arms in the air to grab onto something and a strong pair of arms had quickly caught her.

When the girl hesitantly opened an eye to analyze her seemingly unfortunate position, all she was met with, was the shine of Donnie's lustrous eyes, glinting in the bright lights of the workshop. Both were heaving breaths, adrenaline rushing from the swiftness of this occurrence.

"Thanks..." Y/N managed to squeak, trying to calm the furious blush and racing tempo of her heart at the touch of Donatello's strong arms still wrapped around her, "I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes..."

At her remark, Donnie's expression seemed to relax, and he let out a little giggle of amusement. Y/N smiled softly, and then placed the tip of her finger on the bridge of his snout, accompanied with a small 'boop!' That made him laugh even more and then a snort, something he didn't seem to proud of.

"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" She asked, rather abruptly, and the blunt question caught the turtle off guard. She wanted to smack herself across the face at the spilling of her internal conflicts but figured that doing so would cause her further embarrassment. Instead, Y/N was stuck trying to interpret Donatello's dumbstruck expression.

"E-erm, uh no. No, I don't think you've told me that..." Stupid, stupid stupid! What a response! Donnie's mind quipped, Could have at least said thank you... "Y/N..."

"Yeah, Don?"

His answer was completely wordless, just boring endlessly into her sparkling eyes. Though his next move seemed to be a more suited response.

Before he could stop himself, Donnie closed the short distance between and capturing her mouth in a short kiss, tightening the strong grasp of his forearms around her waist and back.

Y/N blinked once. Twice. And nothing shifted, though seemed completely unreal, like one of the hallucinations that she'd conjured in her mind before.

But this was just so... Real. He pulled away before Y/N could fully process what was going on, leaving her mouth to chase after his momentarily.

"You're really... U-um, Y/N I think you're beautiful. And I have this strangely romantic fascination with you..." Donnie trailed off, realizing how utterly stupid he must sound, however, the girl held tightly in his arms found it extraordinarily romantic.

Her fingers danced around the back of his neck snatched the tails of his silk bandana, and then pulled him in again, this time for a lingering address on the lips, tilting her head just slightly to deepen it. Donnie let out a short squeak of surprise, that faded into a satisfied chirp, bellowing from his throat.

They broke away, heaving puffs of air, and idiot-like grins spread across their faces.

"I really like you too Donnie."

"I'm glad," he breathed, just inches away from her face, "cause now we can work together and you don't have to hide staring at my legs."

Y/N flushed immensely before swatting his chest repeatedly, trying to hide her smile at his amused laughter.

"Donatello I will take away your pop tart privileges!"

fin💜

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

BSD Poe x short(4”11) female reader

Soulmate au

Fluff oneshot

Reader has the ability to turn into a black cat.

Black Cat in the Rue Morgue

Soulmate AU

Character: Poe x short fem!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Thanks for requesting and for your patience. I haven't written a soulmate AU before so I actually did some research on it and hopefully it pays off. I hope that this is what you wanted and have a pleasant day/night!

The sun was now setting and dipped itself into Yokohama's waters letting it's light drip onto the water's surface. Book in hand, raccoon on his shoulders with a pen in the other hand Poe is lost in his thoughts. The outside world doesn't exist. There is nothing but the various ideas for his novel running through his head and softness of fur against the back of his neck and head.

He jots down a few things that he could elaborate on later. The room is dyed in the color of honey and wine as the fading warmth of the sunset creates a sense of comfort. The side of his face illuminated by the gentle golden color.

Karl suddenly jumps off his shoulders and Poe's startled. His eyes wide, 'How long has it been?' he takes in his surroundings and realizes it's already sunset and soon night will fall upon Yokohama.

Poe gets up, closes his book and stretches with a sickening cracking sound erupting from his back, indeed how long has it been? He looks down to where Karl is sitting on the floor and he reaches to ruffle the fur on his head before leaving the room.

He makes a cup of tea for himself once he's in the kitchen and stares out the window. The sleeve of his shirt slides up a bit as Poe tilts his cup to take a sip, a small scarlet mark of a feline like figure on the underside of his wrist becomes visible. It's always been there but he brushed it off, that was until he came across various articles, theories and fiction books about "soulmates". And he can't help but wonder 'Is there really someone out there who'd love me? Do I have a soulmate? Or is it just a meaningless mark?'

Sometimes he'd think it's preposterous while other times he'd genuinely love that idea. But he always blushes straight after, to imagine spending such intimate moments with someone, to hold their hand, to hold them, to share a meaningful smile...it's really a beautiful thought.

Poe sets his cup down on the counter before adjusting his coat and making his way to the front door of the spacious house and opens it. He peeks through the gap between the door frame and from where he's opened making sure there are no people out at the moment and he sighs a breath of relief. Stepping out into the quiet evening he takes a walk along a specific quiet and peaceful street he likes. Evening and night are the only times he'll ever make it outside the comfort of his home without having an anxiety attack.

As he walks down the pavement a rustling noise can be heard in an alleyway which he is just about to pass. He freezes and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. From the corner of his eye he sees a dark shadow on the floor approaching which makes him panic, "P-Please don't attack me or anything, I really don't have any valuables that you'd wa-" he cut off his sentence as he felt something rub against the bottom of his leg.

Immediately he drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands, "Okay, okay I'll surrender!" he yelps. "..." Nothing. He dares to turn his head towards his left and relief washes over him, a panic stricken face now softens, "Oh, silly me. Always panicking for no good reason." He now looks at a black cat which has it's head tilted to the side out of confusion.

It was the norm for you to roam around the city at night either because you couldn't sleep or you just liked the atmosphere. If someone happened to be walking by and you felt a curious sense of playfulness then you'd just go up and show them some cat-like affection. However, out of all the times you had done so this had never happened. "How cute." he muttered, snapping you out of your thoughts. He reached out to pet the spot atop your head.

'No wonder why cats like this.' was your thought. "I don't see any collar or anything signifying you belong to someone." he said aloud placing his forefinger on his chin. "I can't just leave you here alone, hmm and Karl would have a playmate if I took you back with me...oh but do raccoons and cats get along? They could possibly..." as he rambled on you wondered if this was a good time as any to scram or reveal that you're actually a human who has the ability to turn into a cat, specifically a black one.

You slowly backed away and he noticed. "Oh no don't be scared!" he reaches his hands out to you. Ah, he seemed like such a nice person, a gentle person. You couldn't just leave like that, now could you? A ribbon of grey spun around you with various kanji on it. A bright light flashed and Poe freezes with his hands which wanted to reach out to you. His eyes widen once he sees the sight in front of him and questions everything he knows. His mouth agape.

"Hi." you said shyly whilst dusting your attire. "...you..." he still kneeled on the ground, frozen. You felt nervous but thought that after what he just witnessed it'd be necessary to tell him about yourself. "Uhm, okay I know you think this is weird but there's this thing called abilities and my ability is to turn into a black cat..." you sped through your words while fiddling with your thumbs.

Now he understands. Of course he knows what abilities are. "Oh. Ah, don't worry I know what abilities are. I have one myself." he says standing up, now realizing just how short you are. You look up, "Wait, you do as well?" a certain spark of curiosity in your eyes, I guess having a cat ability allows you to have the same characteristics of a cat. His cheeks have a faint red color on them, you look cute when you're curious.

"Y-Yes, it's called Black Cat in the Rue Morgue." "What a coincidence." you giggle. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs contently, "Yes it is. It allows me to transport my readers into my books." "Oh, you're a writer!?" another spark of curiosity in your eyes. He internally smiled at your apparent excitement, "Yes I am. Ah! Excuse my rudeness, my name is Edgar Allan Poe but you can just call me Poe if you'd like."

A smile adorned your face and you introduced yourself too. "I'm sorry about startling you earlier, I promise you I'm no cat burglar." He blinks and after a moment you both laugh at the little pun made and the situation itself. "I don't think such an innocent looking being could ever do such a thing." he blushes as he says those words and you do too.

He takes a look at his surroundings and back at you. "W-Would you...like to uh join me for a stroll? I was planning on going t-to this cafe that's opened til late?" You look up and smile while silently thinking his stuttering is rather cute. "Sure." The walk there was peaceful and enjoyable, every three seconds he would glance at you and a lingering question would be on his mind but he brushes it off. He tries to get to know you despite his nervousness and he succeeds. Even if it's just the little things such as your favorite color, where you live, if you have any pets.

You both finally reached the cafe and took a seat, he was gentleman about pulling your seat out for you and such. The only part he dreaded was ordering, that anxiousness that would bubble up in his chest made his mouth go dry and he's at a loss for words. The barista comes about and asks if you'd both like to order anything, a simple coffee/latte was fine for you. Poe looked pale and tugged on the front of his shirt. You worried if he was okay but he eventually ordered something to drink off the menu and a sigh of relief escaped him once he was done talking.

"You okay?" His eyes widens as he finally looks up at you again, "Yes. Yeah I'm fine, no need to worry. I just..." he looks down again while rubbing the back of his neck, his hair falling over his eyes. "I'm just really shy if you could say that. Or perhaps i just have social anxiety." he let out a nervous chuckle while lifting his head to smile at you. A giggle escapes you, "I think it's cute." He's taken aback but only because he's not used to being complimented and his face turns red.

The orders are served and the barista bows and leaves again. A light-hearted conversation flitters between you two and Karl comes up somewhere in the conversation, Poe saying that he'd love to let you see him. You tilt your cup to take a sip of your drink and the sleeve of your shirt rides up a bit, revealing a portion of your wrist. Poe is taking a sip too and his eyes flutter over your figure.

His eyes widen once he catches sight of the scarlet mark on your wrist and he chokes. "A-Are you okay?" you put your cup down and panic slightly. "Y-Yes I'm fine." he replies adjusting himself.

"Can I ask you something?" curiosity now lacing his voice. "Sure, go ahead."

"Have you always had that red feline-like mark on your wrist?" You look at the mark and reply that it's always been there, indeed. "I think it's because of my ability but I'm not really sure. Perhaps it's a birthmark." He smiles. "Perhaps it is." Is this what he thinks it is? No...he couldn't possibly just jump to conclusions, but certainly what a coincidence it was. The exact same mark on both your wrists and a meeting like this? A beautiful coincidence it was.

"Why do you ask?" you tilt your head to the side much as you did when you were a cat. And if he didn't think you were any cuter now he'd be damned. "Oh no, just asking." he gives a closed eyes smile.

'Soulmates. How fascinating.' he thinks while smiling at you as you take another sip of your coffee/latte. His eyes wander again to the scarlet mark on your wrist.

And the plot thickens.

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 24)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,700

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Waging wars to shake the poet and the beat

I hope it's gonna make you notice

“…I’m in the military, sir…”

“…James, that’s my father, okay? If anything, let’s just be glad he didn’t kill you. He’s like that with everyone…And the soldier thing, he’s weird about that. I’m not sure why…”

Bucky lies awake in bed, fluffy pillow behind his head and one leg peeking out from the blankets, as random memories knack away at his brain in pulses. They weren’t new memories, but they were memories that he never looked at the way he was now.

He doesn’t know why now, he doesn’t know what triggered it, but they were clicking together.

After years of replaying the same moments in his head, there was a nagging feeling that was telling him that there was something not adding up.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s seeing things differently, if he’s feeling things differently.

Whatever it was, he knew there was something…off.

There was something off about Daisy’s story about her dad’s story, something was off about the way he was against Bucky fighting in the military, and her death was coinciding so much with his capture.

He doesn’t like the feeling in his stomach as he remembers.

When Bucky asked about her brother and what that whole commotion back at the club was she was blatantly honest with him.

“My father’s not a good guy. He’s been wanting some something from one of these performers that was suppose to be there last night, but turns out they weren’t even on the set list. He had lied about it, we don’t know where he is.”

Bucky raises a brow at this, “You do his dirty work for him?”

“No, I don’t like to get involved in that. It’s a dangerous lifestyle. I have to think about my future family. I was only there yesterday because my brother wanted to get me out of the house for once.”

Bucky isn’t too gleam on the fact that her family are borderline criminals and that she basically supports it, and for a fraction of a second he almost doesn’t buy it, but he decides to mention this later on, not wanting to ruin their moment.

Bucky shifts his leg as he continues to remember that conversation. Why was he not against it? Why did he never question the crimes? Was he that distracted by her?

Bucky smiles at her comment, but then his brows furrowed together in an adorable way that made Daisy giggle and bring her hand to his cheek, “What is it, James?”

What is it, James?

Bucky looks over to see you laying next to him, sat up with your back against the headboard reading some book with a beige cover.

You hadn’t taken notice of his self discomfort yet, emerged in your reading, tucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

Why was he remembering all of this now? Why was he feeling sick?

When they pulled away she slowly dragged her thumb across his plump bottom lip. He watched her like she was the most gorgeous and interesting thing on the planet.

“James?” He responded with a sound on confirmation and she continued, “do you think we are moving too fast?”

He grabbed her hand that was on his face and for a fraction of a moment she thought that that was it, they were over. This was clearly too unrealistic. But instead he brought her hand up over both his lips and he kissed her gingerly.

“Yes.” He whispered behind her hand, making sure he was making direct eye contact with her.

Her face dropped. “Yes?” Her voice was worried, cautious.  

He started trailing kisses down her hand, her wrist, her forearms. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck making her groan.

It wasn’t that Daisy didn’t like being pampered but she wanted to take this very seriously. With a reluctant sigh - because what he was doing to her flesh just felt so good - she delicately removes her arm from Bucky’s grasp. He narrowed his eyes as she moved away towards the head board, suddenly wondering if maybe he said the wrong thing.

Her eyes trickled his features and down his perfect little nose.

“I knew it since the moment I laid my eyes on you. That’s how you know it’s real. This isn’t crazy, it’s ludicrous. But it works for us. I want to be with you.”

After his little speech Daisy looked him dead in the eye, not batting one lash.

“Then come have dinner with my family.”

Was it too fast? He had barely known her and she was asking him to meet her family. Criminals.

But why would she give away such dire information if it were true?

Bucky sat up slowly, as if if he were to move too quickly, the bed would collapse underneath him.

His eyes had a far away look in him, and he was as pale as he felt.

You feel him shift and your eyes flicker up to him.

You frown.

Her blue eyes glisten with gentle tears, probably thinking the same exact thing. None of it still feels real.

Her, she, doesn’t feel real.

They spent nearly every night together just talking about what Bucky would do when he came back home after camp. Things like how they would have to go see the stars on the back of an outskirts farmhouse, how they would have to go to every club in the city and laugh their night away, how he would take her to coney island with him and Steve and show her a “good time” on the ferris wheel, and how they would definitely have to meet her family.

“They’re great, you’ll love them.” She had said as they laid in bed together just hours before, merely cuddling with clothes on.

“Oh, come on doll, even your Dad?”

Daisy hesitated for a moment and her hand that was rubbing his chest stopped suddenly.

Bucky noted this and they met eyes.

Bucky feels his heart palpitate and he opens and closes his right hand, sitting up.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You ask softly, closing your book.

“Dad has been gone for four weeks and I don’t know why. Jimmy has gone with him- it’s just me and mother. I overheard her saying something about Germany but I’m not quite sure.. Or maybe it was something else. Though none of that matters to me, James- I want you. Please come home to me.”

For some reason, a chill ran down his back as he reread the words “something about Germany”.

Like an awful memory that has never happened, he sees a child in front of him. It was a little girl and she screamed in agony for mercy. She was getting strangled to death by his own hand, a silver glint caught his eye-

“James!”

“Bucky.”

Your voice pulls him out of his trance for just a moment.

He looks up to you, your eyes interlacing in a silent conversation of understanding.

He was revealing something to himself and you could tell that whatever that was it was leaving him overcome by feelings.

At the end of the day, he knows that he’s just insanely protective of Steve. Which is why his arm instinctively goes around him when Rogers almost gets hit by a speeding vehicle that abruptly stops to halt in front of them on the curb. With his mind far away, he hadn’t realized they were already standing on the sidewalk in front of one bright sign labeled Cotton Club.

Had Bucky known better, he would’ve had him on his left.

After that introduction, the two boys look over to the object that almost killed them.

It was pure black, the countless lights coming from the surrounding buildings and cars bouncing off its surface. The rain must’ve made it even shinier, the lights made a reflection so bright that it had everyone staring. Men looked in awe and a young paper boy, standing on the corner working over time, wondered if that would someday be his future.

With a look of disgust, Steve was repulsed by the obscurity of the man’s driving having nearly hit him. He wondered why people had no respect and he desperately wanted to punch his face in. Either that or give him a pep talk about general safety.

“What a twit.” He snarls, dusting off his small suspenders and kicking the invisible debris off his lapels.

Bucky’s face held something different. It explained why the woman staring had looked on in pure jealousy. He stared forward completely emotionless. He was neither annoyed at the fact that he almost just got run over and killed and nor in obsession over the Duesenberg J.

It was the beautiful goddess emerging from the passenger seat that caught his full attention.

On her left hand was a pearl and diamond bracelet and she used it to skim over the top of the priceless car door for leverage to push herself gracefully up from the leather seat. Her other hand was wrapped up in a prestige white glove. It held onto the hem of her silver sparkling gown, a long white cigar between her digits. Her gorgeous dress looked heavy, you could tell it was so properly made and expensive because it must’ve weighed as much as her petite self. The reason being that it hugged her body at just the perfect places, showing off her curves gracefully.

Her perfect blonde hair was pulled slick back by a diamond hair clip to the side in huge voluminous waves. The dress showed just enough back, the material dipping down towards the floor, the dip ending just above her bottom. The entire thing was held by two tiny silver straps on her shoulders.

In a sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington seemed to have played perfectly in sync with the exact moment she shut the door behind her. She looked up to read the sign, her perfect profile looking up in awe.

Bucky stands up from the bed, back rigid and face hard with anger.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He swallows thickly, gaze going towards you again.

He doesn’t know why he keeps looking at you.

Ironically, beneath his anger and betrayal, he also began to feel embarrassment.

He’s momentarily startled out of his trance when he feels a small hand grab his elbow.  He looks down and his eyes meet a small concerned Steve. Well, to be fairly honestly, he looked more pissed than concerned.

Bucky doesn’t feel the patience to deal with talking anything out, he’s too busy thinking about Daisy. But he feels like he should at least say something so he can get everyone off his back, “What is it?”

Steve looks at him likes he’s crazy and then manically gestures towards the entrance of the club, probably pointing to where Daisy just left through.

“Bucky, what the heck was that? Who was that? You know her?”

“I didn’t know her. No.” Bucky doesn’t realize he’s saying it out loud.

He’s shaking his head to himself, mumbling.

“Bucky, who are you talking to?” You’re growing even more concerned by the second now.

The silence was broken by his strong voice.

“You’re real.”

She smiles in a way that makes him smile too. It was contagious and bright. He caresses her skin one more time.

He felt her own hand come over his and she whispers, “I’m real.”

“Not real.”

You are more than concerned at this point.

“What are you talking about?”

“Maybe it was the fact that my body had finally developed into a women’s body. My breasts were now fully perked and my legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all I knew was they figured I could be put to good use.”

He shook his head and Bucky blinked away heavy tears.“I-“

The pretty woman rolled her eyes and crossed her legs, revealing a long slit that ran up her dress. It was just enough skin for Bucky’s hand to get sweaty.

He waited until the perfect opportunity when the man had walked towards the direction of the stage, making his way into the back behind the curtain.

“It wasn’t real.”

“You do his dirty work for him?”

“It wasn’t real.”

“My father’s not a good guy.”

Bucky remembers them poking him with IV drops and then sticking his head in a blender. His owns screams fill his head. It was so painful.

“Reason unknown, ongoing investigation"

“I wasn’t going to let you keep her. She enticed you. She won you. It was always supposed to be you.”

“…blonde 21 year old was found shot…”

“Daisy,” he whispered. He traced her features with his hand, and just like that the fear escaped his eyes, and instead of scared he was now feeling complete love and he was ready because knew this is what he wanted forever. He wanted her, “Will you marry me?”

“…Her family has been under investigation after her father’s disappearance —…”

“But you jeopardized it, Soldat. It wasn’t real.”

The memories are sucked out of him like a vacuum and his dark eyes meet yours, again, across the bed.

You had never seen his pupils so blown before.

You were terrified.

Your eyes go down to his flesh hand that is twitching against his thigh.

“Bucky.” You say cautiously, one more time. It was almost like you were afraid to get closer to him.

“I—“ his voice was hoarse.

He looks away and clears his throat. He blinks away the heavy daze, allowing it all to sink in until it settles in his stomach in a surprising pool of acceptance.

He sees you again and for some reason he feels okay.

It scares him.

It scared him how you took something that had been bothering him for so long, away that quickly.

In that moment he knows.

“I remembered something.” Your eyebrows came together suddenly. Nearly moments ago he looked heartbroken but now he just looked shocked and angry.

“What did you remember? I thought you had your memories back. In Wakanda.”

“I-I did,” he squeaks out running a hand through his hair, “maybe I’m just remembering differently, or adding pieces together, I don’t know, I can’t tell. It has to be, because it makes sense. It makes so much sense now, and I can’t—and she—”

“Bucky you’re rambling,” he stops and you continue to look at each other. His face drops all traces of anger and it softens, “Talk to me, I’m right here.” You whisper.

Bucky looks down at you and nods. No hesitancy.

“Give me your hands.” You say, reaching for him. He doesn’t hold back from doing so, and once you have his hands in yours, you pull him up onto the bed so he’s kneeling on it next to you.

Bucky takes a few minutes to compose himself before he says it:

“I think Daisy and her family were Hydra.” He says it like he’s afraid of his own words.

As if every word in that phrase was a curse word.

Somehow, it relieves him.

His chest feels light, shoulders worn. He can breathe.

+ + +

“I should’ve known it was too fast. Too perfect,” you’re also stunned as he tells you everything, his hands still in yours, “but—but I don’t think she was always hydra. I think she wanted out when I was captured and they killed her for it.”

You don’t deny it, that hurts. Despite never knowing the girl and secretly holding envy for her, it pains you.

“Oh, Bucky.”

He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing together.

“But it was a lie. She enticed me, she fucking—“ Bucky sucks in a deep breath, “she was trying to lure me in. There was nothing real about it.” He says the word like it’s venom on his lips.

You feel him rub his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You don’t know that -”

He shakes his head again, “She was Hydra!” He doesn’t say it angrily as much as he says it in a way to announce it to himself.

He needed to say it out loud. He needed to let it sink in.

You watch Bucky as he becomes completely numb, and somehow free, in front of you.

For some reason you expected more heartbreak from him for discovering something so horrible about a woman he claimed he loved so much, a woman he wanted to marry, but instead all you got from him was anger and acceptance.

Little did you know, Bucky was in the same boat as you.

Why wasn’t he as heat shattered as he’d expect?

“I-“ he’s speechless as he looks around, trying to find something, but he does’t know what.

You think you’re more shocked than him and you quickly grab his arm, bringing him against you for a tight hug.

He hugs you back immediately, hand running up your shoulder blade and onto the back of your hair.

Minutes pass by. Many minutes.

“It was all a lie,” he whispers still holding onto. you, “All of it. I really was alone. I thought I finally had someone, but—It wasn’t real.”

You don’t know what to say as you run your hand up the back of his head.

It’s not until you pull him in tighter that he realizes it.

It was you.

You were there reason this didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. His heart no longer wanted to be with someone who was long gone.

It wanted to stay here.

Here.

He never thought he would ever feel this way ever again, and he never thought he would trust this hard ever again.

Realizing truth relived him of buried pain, and he wanted you to keep holding him, to keep helping him go through this.

He says your name softly.

“Yes?”

“I want to talk about everything.”

You stiffen for a moment as you let his words sink in. You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“All of it. Everything that I did. I need to get it out, I can’t keep doing this, holding it in, keeping it inside —”

The euphoria through your blood is addicting.

“Tell me.”

He loved slow dancing.

He loved the Yankees.

He loved math and Howard Stark.

He went to the Stark Expo every year.

He loved The Hobbit and he loved jazz.

He loved New York City.

He loved Brooklyn the most.

He misses flat hats.

He loved telling jokes.

His mother died when he was young.

His sister was taken away from him.

He cried when he couldn’t see her.

His father died not too long after.

He never enlisted despite his love for the military.

He was drafted.  

He experienced World War II but on the enemy side.

He fought with Hitler’s and Hydra’s men.

He was loved by the KGB.

He loved Prague.

He trained the girls in the red room.

He remembers every young girl.

He was told to kill four kids on a mission once in Bucharest.

He was tormented, beaten raw, and kept in a concrete cell between cryo periods.

He was only occasionally fed, most years spent asleep.

He was treated like an animal. They tied him to the wall once in the cell, with a chain around his neck.

He was brain washed.

He was sexually assaulted by Hydra.

He doesn’t remember if he was raped, which could be his brain’s way of protecting himself from more trauma.

He reminds you that loved Howard Stark.

He killed Howard Stark.

He killed Maria Stark.

He was the one that stole the super soldier serum from the Stark’s and provided it to Hydra.

He was the fist of Hydra.

He killed many other good men. Over two dozen assassinations.

He killed JFK.

He never wanted to do any of it.

He remembers all of it.

They named him a hero on the Wall of Valor before S.H.I.E.L.D fell.

He was taken into Wakanda, freed of his trigger words.

He still loved New York City.

He was pardon him, despite everything.

They named him an Avenger.

He remembers it all.

You’re laying down facing each other and you continue to watch him as he tells you everything.

It’s one of the most surreal experiences of your life and you find yourself in total awe.  

This was the Bucky Barnes you had been longing to see. This was the man you knew was hidden beneath layers of hurt and anger.

You had seen it before he even told you.

The fact that he even trusted you enough to be this transparent with you is what makes you so happy.

His eyes brightened as he played with a string on the blanket between you.

“And Friends,” his voice is small and there’s a little smile on his mouth. Your heart swells as you watch it, “I love Friends.”

You bite your tongue as you smile.

Bucky stared at you, just as amazed at himself as he was at you. He couldn’t believe he told it all to you.

It was as if Daisy’s image had begun to dissolve and he was finally seeing clearly.

He didn’t hate you. He never hated you.

His fingers peak out slowly to take a hold of your pinky.

It was the opposite. He wanted you.

He feels himself breaking when you pull away from his touch. His smile falls.

“I’m proud of you,” you say quietly, sitting up again, “For finally talking about it.” You mean it, “Thank you.”

It takes him a few seconds to eventually look away and he turns onto his back. Bucky drapes an arm over his stomach, letting out a long breath of contentment.

He felt free.

To do what?

He looks over at you again as you pull your book back out.

This. This is what freedom got him. You.

But it you weren’t his. He clears his throat.

“How are things with your boyfriend?”

You don’t like talking about Pietro with Bucky.

“It’s fine,” you answer anyway, “We only had one date. And I got sick, so hopefully the next one will be better.”

Bucky swallows thickly. Why was he feeling like this? He should be happy for you. You wanted this. You deserved this.

“What do you plan to do when it’s time for us both to leave and go back?” He asks.

You don’t miss the way he mentions both of you to leave and your eyes quickly flicker to him.

“I don’t know yet,” you say hoarsely, filled with unexpected relief.

+ + +

Bucky doesn’t remember experiencing this kind of happiness since he was nineteen and him and Steve went to go see a baseball game after scoring a date with two pretty girls on the F train.

He’s happy.

Ashen peaks up at him from behind dark lashes, smiling so hard his eyes peak up at the side, turning them into thin slits. Bucky’s aren’t too far off as he mimics the boy’s laughter.

“Connect four?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta try it. It’s so fun.” The Ashens says happily, pulling out the little game from underneath his bed. Bucky wants to ask him why he has it hidden, but he doesn’t. He just reminds him that they need to stay quiet, “plus, it’s the only game I have anyway. But it’s fun Mr. Bucky.”

“Haha, alright lets try it.” Bucky says.

They sit across from each other on the floor, setting up the little game and dividing their colored chips. Ashen’s goes first, dropping in a yellow one.

Bucky picks up a red one with his flesh hand and drops it right next to the yellow. They continue for a bit until Ashens notices Bucky isn’t connecting his colors.

“No, you have to try to get a straight line and connect it!” He laughs, “you suck at this."

“Oh, no! What did I do?” Bucky exclaims, laughing.

“You’re not very smart for an Avenger.” Ashens remarks.

“Okay,” Bucky points at him playfully, smiling, “That’s mean.”

“I’m sorry but it is true.”

“Cut me some slack.” Bucky says, smiling.

They play for a little longer until Ashens ends up beating him.

Bucky sticks his tongue out at the boy, but smiles. He eventually caught on to the game and let him win. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Mr. Bucky,” Ashen says after he slides the game back under his head. He brings his legs up to his chest and hugs them, "Will you tell me now why you are here to save me?”

Bucky licks his lip and sighs. He looks out Ashens' high rise window and then back to him again. “Not yet.”

“Should I be afraid.”

“No. I won’t let anything happen you. I promise.”

Ashens doesn’t say anything as he lets his Mike Wazowski slippers hit each other.

“Do you have any kids? Like my age?”

The question surprises Bucky, and for a moment a feeling of longing hits him. “No. I don’t.”

“Aww okay.”

Bucky stares at Ashens little sad face and his heart breaks.

“I always wanted to, though,” Bucky whispers, “But that was years ago.”

“When you were in world war one?”

Bucky smiles.

“Two, not one, but yeah,” it’s not a lie, Bucky knows that if his loved would’ve went a different way, he would have definitely had kids. To know he could never go back to such simplicity broke his heart, “Something like that.”

There was something, that even so many months later, still bothered Bucky. It was something so small, and it probably didn’t really affect you as much as it affected him, but it was something you said to him.

It was one of your many fights and the way you had spatted at him about buying you plan B after you had sex.

He didn’t want to burden you. What you two had done had been irresponsible. An atmosphere like this was no place and time for an unwanted baby.

You weren’t ready for one, let alone his.

At the time, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t want the baby, if you were to have gotten pregnant, he would have loved that child with everything. He was thinking about you.

He hated to think that he gave you that pill as a gesture to say that he wanted nothing to do with you.

If so, you were wrong.

He wanted you to be happy, just smart.

He cared about you.

And now, possibly more.

As he continues to watch Ashens giggling over his slippers, that feeling of longing washes over Bucky again.

He knows he needs to tell you.

+ + +

You still weren’t feeling well. Maybe it was your nerves. The end of the mission was getting closer by each day and you never expected you’d have to leave with a little kid. You still hadn’t met Ashens, but Bucky says he’s a delight.

Ashens has changed him. You took notice immediately and it made you happy. This whole experience would be good for him.

After Bucky had poured out his heart to you, you knew you needed to get away again. That was the dance now. You get pulled, you take a step back. You couldn’t let yourself go there anymore, no matter how hard it was.

Pietro would be the driving force to help you.

You just wish Bucky would stop doing things that he probably realized he wasn’t even doing. The way he touches your face and your hand, or some times the way he looks at you, was not appropriate for two fuck buddies who stopped…fucking.

You were still convinced that he wanted you two to go your separate ways at the end of this mission. Him indirectly saying he was going to walk out with you made you happy, it could’ve been Ashens that helped him have a change of heart, whatever it was, this thing between you had to dissolve anyway.

You couldn’t keep doing that to himself, even when he would blur your lines.

You really wished he would stop doing that.

That night you after the ball, you were almost sure that he was developing feelings for you - finally - it’s why you tried to get him to finally tell you why the kiss bothered him.

Bucky never told you the truth, and you were too tired to keep digging.

You were glad that was the last time.

It was over. All of it was over.

Your stomach churns again and you decide to make yourself some tea and head to bed.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ @alwaysclassyeagle

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓪.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠 | ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader [25, Vigilantes, quirkless]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: Add on to the ask my bad! {Vigilante reader instead of hero-: When hawks found out he was expecting a baby he immediately kept it a secret from the reader and his friends. Since he doesn't want the hero commission/the public to catch wind of it cause it'll put both of their lives at risk also the public wouldn't be happy to know that their hero is in a relationship with someone who isn't a female- {{Angst!- The hero commission isn't supportive of hawks love life and unborn child_ if they found out about it, they'll probably blackmail the reader into doing their dirty work in exchange for hawks life.) But,, he soon tells the reader after being confronted about his change of behavior and appearance. About 3-4 months into the pregnancy. Time skip to where the kid is born- happy ending🤙🏾

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: mpreg, size / height difference, lil’ bit of angst with happy ending, discussion of abortion

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“No… No, no, no. Fuck!”, he cursed quietly.

Staring in disbelief at the little plastic strip, he put it besides two others. All three of them were positive. There was no doubt. Hawks was… pregnant.

Falling back onto the closed toilet seat, he sighed deeply as tears welled up in his eyes. Keigo wasn’t one to cry easily, but right now everything broke apart. How would everyone react? How would the HPSC react? How would you react? Right now, it seemed like his past was catching up to him, what if everything turned out the same? What if history repeated itself? Would his unborn child have to endure so much as well? Wouldn’t it be better, if it was never born-

“Keigo?”, your voice made him snap out of his dark thoughts.

“[Your.name]?”, hastily wiping his tears and pushing the pregnancy tests into the trash, he tried his best to sound calm.

“So you’re here! I was worried, Kei! You ignored my calls.”, when he came out, you stood there leaning against the wall, a worried expression on your face.

“Ah, no. I was just busy, you know? HPSC needed me again today.”, Kei tried his best to lie and put on his best fake smile.

But you still found it suspicious.

“Are you okay, Baby?”, taking a step towards him, your big hand cupped his cheek and your thumb gently wiped over his red, swollen undereye.

Had he been crying? Keigo? That’s rare.

“I am fine, [Your.name], I am fine. What about you though?”, he kept smiling when he pushed away your hand and walked past you into the kitchen.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while, too, ya know?”

“Ah…”, was the only sound you made as you shyly scratched your neck.

“That’s true. I’m sorry if I worried you, Kei. It’s just… I had to hide for a few days. The police were especially pesky and I couldn’t risk being caught.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”, he waved aside, “It’s not like I was worried. I know you can handle yourself just fine.”

This was the last thing you thought you would hear from him, leaving you confused and maybe a little… hurt? Sure, you chose to be a Vigilantes and go out at night to take care of some things your own, but to think your boyfriend wasn’t even worried about you while doing so? Maybe he really did despise what you did and he just never said so out loud. Until now, he had never commented on the illegal things you did, because ultimately, you never destroyed anything and just helped the less unfortunate people, but maybe…

After all, you worried about him constantly and he was a licensed pro-hero, still – many things could happen. Like that, you had a weird feeling that Hawks was not fine at all despite him claiming he was.

And while normally, your little reunion would have been much different, Kei just couldn’t think about anything at that point. All he was thinking about was the baby growing inside of him and what he should do about it…

-

As weeks went by, you noticed Hawks was changing. His excuse of being “bloated” was weird and got old quickly. Furthermore had your relationship taken a big hit. Few kisses and almost no touching. It almost seemed like he was uncomfortable constantly. You wondered what it all was about. Was it just over? Did your relationship just slip right through your fingers and you couldn’t do anything about it?

Usually, when you were both home, the apartment was filled with dumb laughter. It was so nice being around you, but all Keigo was in the past few weeks was anxious, quiet and easily agitated. His home was his safe place, it’s where he could forget everything and relax. Not think about his work, about the HPSC, but with your child growing consistently, it was harder and harder to relax. In just a few weeks, someone who had a keen eye could probably tell that he wasn’t “bloated” anymore. Instead, he didn’t know what to do anymore.

-

Then, one day, it must have been around the fourth month of his pregnancy, someone rang the doorbell in the middle of the night. First, Keigo wanted to ignore it, however, as they kept ringing, a thought popped into his head. He hadn’t seen you in about a week, which wasn’t unusual per se as you had to hide from time to time, but for you to not contact him at all was a little… odd. Were you in trouble? Did they find about your connection to him?

Hence, with his own feather in his hand, he was ready to defend himself as he made his way to the door. The rain was drumming against the windows mercilessly. Perfect distraction if someone wanted to raid him.

Though, when he swung open the door, ready to cut anyone and anything, it all came differently. A large body was leaning against the side of the door.

“[Your.name]!”, his golden eyes widened as your own [eye.color] ones looked quite lifeless.

Before Hawks could do anything, you couldn’t hold yourself upright anymore, thus falling through the opened door. Quickly reacting, he caught you, but being so much smaller than you, his feathers had to help lift you and get you inside his apartment. Only then, when he pulled his hands back did he realize what was on his hands and what he had thought to be water, was actually blood.

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Rushing to your side, he literally ripped open your black coat and what was underneath, revealing a gaping wound on your side.

“Kei…”, you suddenly croaked, trying to reach out your hand, which he immediately grabbed and squeezed tightly.

“Don’t talk, [Your.name]! Everything will be alright, okay?!”, he visibly panicked.

He could hide his feelings very well. At least usually. But not this time. Maybe it was because he was hormonal due to the pregnancy, but just the thought of losing you made him cry. Hastily standing back up, he rushed into the bathroom to grab some towels and into the bedroom to get his phone.

“I… I didn’t know… where else to go… Kei…”, you coughed up a bit of blood, even though he had told you to not talk anymore.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, Baby.”, hugging you against his chest, all he could do was sob, “Everything will be alright, okay?!”

--

With a thumping heart, Hawks stood in front of the door for a few moments, before he knocked and entered eventually.

“Oh! Kei!”, you were just eating your pudding.

“[Your.name]!”, without holding back, he rushed towards your bed and jumped you.

However, hearing your painful whimper due to the ecstatic hug, he immediately pulled back with a small “I’m sorry.”

You, however, just shook your head and put the pudding and spoon away before gesturing him to come closer again.

“No, it’s okay, come here.”, you said with a soft smile as you pulled him in again.

Keigo just following your movement, scooching closer and in the end, hugging you again when you wrapped your own bandaged arms around him. You were so much more beat up than he initially thought…

“Thank you for saving me, Baby. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You did!”, sitting back up, his golden eyes were shimmering, “I was so worried about you.”

“Ehh? Didn’t you say you weren’t worried about me a few months ago?”, you just teased him, but Keigo was hormonal and highly stressed, so he reacted way too violently when tears welled up in his eyes.

“I know… But you know I like to talk big sometimes.”, he sniffled.

Quickly, you reached out to softly cup his face and wipe away the tears.

“I know. Hey… Kei. Tell me what’s going on, hm?”

“Huh?”, his golden eyes widened a bit as he stared at you.

“Baby… I know something’s going on. Things haven’t been normal lately and you act different, too. Tell me, if it’s something I did, I can change. I will do anything, but please be honest with me already… Last night, I thought, that’s it. I thought I’d die with things being so weird between us. It was horrible to think about it…”

Looking around for a moment, you were the only one in this room and even if it wasn’t the best location to finally say it out loud, Keigo just couldn’t continue to lie. He had wanted to get an abortion three times and canceled every time because he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Clearly, he wanted this baby. And he wanted you to know, it was just all so… complicated.

“Kei…”, you squeezed his hand one more time.

“Okay…”, sitting down on the bed properly, his other hand reached out as well, needing every bit of comfort and support he could get.

“I…”, biting his lip, he hesitated for a moment before looking up and straight into your eyes, “I am pregnant.”

Your eyes widened and for a second, you just stared at him in disbelief.

“Wait… you…? Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my God… that explains a lot.”, you kind of laughed while shaking your head, but then you realized something.

“Wait… How long...?”

“17th week… Do you not understand, [Your.name]? I am pregnant.”

“Yes, I understand quite well and I think that’s amazing.”, you squeezed his hands again, a big smile on your lips.

“No, no! You don’t get it, [Your.name]!”, Hawks then suddenly stood up, “This is not amazing. Do you know what that means?”, he sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Kei…”

“We are fucked, [Your.name]. Do you know what happens when the HPSC or the public finds out? Let alone who the father is? What if… What if our baby has to endure everything I had to endure? What if… I become like them? Or what if the HPSC finds out and takes them away from us?”, his voice broke a little at the end, just imagining it…

“Keigo, hey.”, you turned around and placed your feet onto the ground, sitting on the edge of the bed, hence why you could take his hands again and pull him closer.

“You will never become like them.”, you cupped his face, gently wiping the tears away from the corner of his eyes.

“And, Kei, you already made a decision, no? You want to keep the baby – our baby – right? It’s already the fourth month…”

“I do… But… I don’t know what I should do. I am not myself, [Your.name]. I keep crying over stupid things, I can't concentrate when I’m doing my work and I am always scared someone finds out.”, eventually, you pulled him onto your lap, though he was careful not to hurt your side.

“I know you’re scared, Baby. I am too, but we can do it. Together. I will be with you every step. I will protect you.”

“[Your.name]…”, wrapping his arms around you, he buried his face in the nook of your neck, his small frame shaking.

“It’s okay. I’m here, Kei. And I won’t go, ever. We will do it together. And I promise… I promise I will stop going out during the night.”, you whispered this promise into his ear, earning his small sniffles as he clung to you.

“Our baby doesn’t have to grow up in isolation because of my recklessness. I will become a good father. They will have a great life, okay, Kei? We can do it. Whatever the HPSC throws at us, we will deal with it, together. I promise they won’t grow up like you had to.”

The last thing surely broke him as Hawks barely whispered a “Mhm.” back. But at the same time he was smiling, so grateful he was finally able to let you know as the last few months were really straining.

---

“I wish you were never born! You are a nuisance! You keep me from being free!”

“Why did I not get an abortion? Why did I do this to myself? You good for nothing!”

“-go! -igo! Keigo!”, his golden eyes opened at last.

Breathing heavily and with beads of sweat running down his temple, Hawks stared at you for a moment. Still not really sure what just happened the realization sank in little by little. A dream.

“[Your.name]…”

“Hey, I’m here. It’s okay now.”, you whispered and gently kissed him, before hugging him tightly.

Melting into your arms instantly, he buried his face at your chest as one hand reached down to his growing belly. He would probably pop soon.

“It’s weird… I haven’t thought or dreamt about them in over ten years and now… ever since I found out I’m pregnant… I …”, he mumbled more than anything, glad you were there to hold him.

“I know.”, was the only thing you whispered back while gently caressing his back.

When the HPSC trained him, he forgot, or rather suppressed most of his abusive and traumatic childhood. Maybe it was because he worried so much about your little baby that it all came crashing down on him eventually. But he would never become like them.

“Oh-“, both of you felt a little kick, making you giggle.

“Seems like our little baby girl wants to cheer you up as well.”, you whispered and nuzzled his head with your own while your hand reached out to his belly as well, softly caressing it.

“Seems like it.”, Keigo finally smiled a little.

“We will protect her.”, he quietly said after stealing a soft kiss from you.

“We will. And hey, the public took it really well when we outed us. The HPSC can’t do shit to hurt us anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank God.”, cupping your cheek, Kei pulled you down again, before whispering against your lips, “Thank you.”

“Mhmh, for what?”, you chuckled and kissed him again, making him also giggle.

“Just… for everything. I love you, [Your.name].”

Smiling softly at him, you pecked his lips again and whispered an, “I love you too.”

For a few moments, it was quiet as you just cuddled and tried to calm down the excited little girl who was kicking and punching Hawks.

“Say… how do you feel, though? You haven’t been out in-“, but another kiss stopped him from continuing.

“I am perfectly fine, Shortcake. It… was hard, but it was the right decision. You are more important than anything or anyone else, and now with our little nugget growing… what we have is just so much more important to me than vigilante justice.”

The smile that spread across his face was truly warming your heart. It was the right decision and you wouldn’t regret it. You knew how hard his childhood was and you didn’t want that for your baby girl. She should be able to proudly say who her parents were and for that reason, you couldn’t continue your former lifestyle.

After sharing a few more kisses, Hawks then asked for cuddles, which you happily agreed to. Hence letting him shift positions and turn around, careful not to hit you with his wings, he hugged his pregnancy pillow. And then, you slipped your own arms around him, hugging him carefully and littering small kisses onto his neck.

He was so small in your arms, but that’s what he had loved from day one on. Keigo felt protected and loved when he was in your arms.

--

Calling out for you, Keigo carried the groceries into the kitchen, just to bite his lip instantly when he saw you laying on the sofa. Your little baby girl sprawled out on top of your broad chest, sleeping. Once Hawks came a little closer, he realized you were sleeping as well, thus with a soft smile he just kneeled down in front of the sofa.

“What would I do without you, [Your.name]? You two are seriously the light of my life.”, he thought with a big smile on his lips.

To think he was so incredibly sad when he found out, he couldn’t be more happier now. Everything turned out alright after all, just like you said. Leaning in, Hawks gently kissed his baby girl’s forehead before standing up again, leaving you and Tsubasa alone – at least that was his intention.

However, a soft tug on his clothes made him stop. And a glance back made him smile and turn once more, following your movement and laying down beside you, softly tucked under your arm, just where he belonged.

There were no words needed as you softly kissed him before your head fell back into the pillow. Your arm securely holding him and Tsubasa and just like that, you were able to hold the whole world in your arms.

And it certainly wasn’t any different for Keigo.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: I think I repeat myself every time I write for him but… KEIGO IS SO TINY ovo probably cuz I absolutely adore the EndHawk ship and their size difference gives me life? so I cannot help but make it happen when I write x reader with kei. like I can just dream of being as tall and buff as endeavor lmao but yeah this was nice I love preggo hawks!

[valwentinefics]

Okay I'm a sucker for Zemo, and I keep refreshing Tumblr for new stories. Thank you for writing about him!

Could you do one with enemies to lovers, where both Zemo and the f reader won't admit anything to themselves? However when they go undercover in the club, to keep the disguise they have to dance together. At first Zemo does his dance, but the reader takes the reins and teaches him how to blend in better. Steamy time ensues after that, possibly ending with smut/slight breeding kink? Or just possesive smut 😅😂.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request I loved writing it! There really needs to be more Zemo fics, hopefully the next episodes don’t ruin him! This is also like my second time writing smut so i’m sorry if it’s not the best!

The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest - Helmut Zemo x Reader 18+

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, tiny bit of choking, alcohol consumption, possessive behavior, dom! Zemo, sub! reader, light degradation, biting

Translations: Hase (Bunny/Hare), Mein schatz (my sweetheart), Liebling (darling)

Word count: 1848

REQUESTS OPEN

Y/n didn’t like Zemo. Y/n abhorred Zemo and everything he did. She hated his smug face, his head tilt, his stupid jacket that only had fur around the collar. Y/n despised Zemo, yet she couldn’t help the thoughts that creeped into her mind at night of his warm gloved hands roaming her body and his accented voice whispering what he would do to her in her ear. Those thoughts made her find Zemo even more insufferable than she already had.

Y/n could feel the bass throughout her body as she stood at the edge of the club, nursing a drink while she swayed softly to the beat. Stuff like this wasn’t her scene, she preferred the quiet warmth of curling up by a fireplace with a cup of tea, no sound but her own thoughts. Here, everything was practically screaming at her, it was almost overstimulating, but she stayed, not wanting to miss anything that could go down.

She almost decided to change her mind and abandon the godforsaken mission  when Zemo appeared at her side, doing an awkward little dance. Y/n watched him incredulously for a few moments, taking a sip of her overly sweet drink as she pictured all the ways she could punch him so he would stop dancing like that.

“Y/n could you not look at me with such hatred for one night?” Asked Zemo, his accented voice only just rising above the music. 

“That’s a lot to ask of a girl Zemo.” Y/n replied with disinterest, wanting this conversation to be over so she could go back to standing silently alone.

“Our disguise depends on us being friendly, well, friendly is too weak of a word. Will you cooperate or would you like to blow this whole operation?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he bore into Y/n’s eyes.

Perhaps it was the alcohol in her system, or maybe he was playing mind tricks, but as Y/n looked back into his eyes she could feel a warm feeling in her chest. Y/n held his gaze for a few moments before relenting, reluctantly realizing he had a point. With a sigh she held out her hand to the man. 

“I’m not a good actress Zemo, you better sweep me off my feet,” Y/n huffed, downing the rest of her drink and placing it on the table nearby. Zemo gave her a mischievous smile before pulling her into the crowd of people.

“Call me Helmut, it’s more natural.” He told her, his gloved hand resting on her waist and holding her close as he began to move his body to the upbeat music. Y/n followed his lead, her mind racing as she couldn’t remove her thoughts from the close proximity of them. She could feel the heat radiating off of him as her chest was shoved into his as someone pushed past her. If their closeness affected Zemo he didn’t show it as he continued to dance, moving his arm in a weird way.

“Ze- Helmut stop that, god you’re horrible at this. Your bad dancing is just going to bring more attention to us.” Y/n groaned, grabbing his arm and holding it still.

Zemo looked at her with a scoff. “You don’t seem like much of a dancer liebling, how do you suppose I should dance?”

Y/n knew her options were limited, and she cursed herself for speaking out on Zemo’s dancing. She had backed herself into the corner, and there was only one way out. Y/n spun around, her back flush against Zemo’s chest as she began to sway her hips to the beat. A groan sounded from behind her, so quiet Y/n wouldn’t have thought it to be real if not for the hot breath on her neck that came with it. 

She ignored the blush of her cheeks and the wetness she felt pooling between her thighs as Zemo managed to pull her even closer, his hips rubbing against her backside with controlled smooth movements. Y/n tried to tell herself she was getting no pleasure from this, but as she felt his bulge harden against her, it was hard to ignore the desire she felt for the Sokovian man.

She spun around to face him, burying her head in the crook of his neck, feeling too ashamed to have her face revealed to the world while she desired to be fucked thoroughly by the man who had destroyed the Avengers. In a way that turned her on even more, the sheer power the man possessed. She let out a small mewl into his neck as that thought, trying to focus on dancing instead of her desire and Zemo’s hand tortuously creeping to her ass.

“You feel it too, Y/n. The desire.” The Baron mumbled to the girl who tucked herself into his chest. 

“I can’t- I hate you…” Y/n replied, more trying to convince herself of it than him as she pulled away.

“Mein schatz, it’s the forbidden fruit that always tastes the sweetest.” Zemo whispered into her ear, pressing a small kiss right below her earlobe.

Y/n couldn’t handle it, she was soaked and desperate for his touch. Y/n grabbed at the fabric of his sweater, pulling herself into him. “Fuck me then, Helmut.” She muttered, looking up at him. Y/n hadn’t seen Zemo move so fast, his hand resting on her lower back as he quickly ushered her to a spare room and swiftly locked the door behind them. 

“Hase, you can back out of this any time, although I’ll be sad to see you leave. Oh God how I’ve wanted you on my cock since I first saw you.” Zemo spoke as he pinned Y/n to the wall, his thigh positioned between her legs, Y/n began to desperately grind against it. His accent came out more as he grew more aroused.

“Shut up Zemo, you running your mouth will ruin this.” Y/n tried to be intimidating, but as she pathetically grinded on his thigh she didn’t do a good job of it.

Zemo let out a chuckle, his hand gently yet sternly holding Y/n’s throat “Learn your place hase, and this will go well for the both of us.”

Y/n looked at his arm and back to his eyes, biting her lip. The lightheaded feeling she felt from being choked seemed to amplify her other senses, especially her need for him. With a small nod she agreed to stay in line.

The Baron smiled, letting go of her throat and shoving her to the bed, crawling on top of her, his gloved hand trailing painstakingly slow up her thigh, hooking a finger around the waistband of her panties and pulling them off. Y/n began to undress him as well, the two stripping each other of their clothes until they were both naked. Y/n pumped his thick cock with one hand, staring up at him with eyes full of desire. For now she had shoved her inhibitions to the back of her mind, not wanting to acknowledge them. Right now all that mattered was Zemo and the pleasure he could bring her. 

“Helmut, Baron, please I need you in me.” Y/n looked up at him with pleading eyes, the arousal she felt almost too much to bear. Zemo looked down at her with a small grin, positioning himself over her. She was caged in by his arms, his cock slightly pushing at her entrance. 

“Do you want me to fill you? Do you want your baron’s cum to fill up your needy little cunt? Dirty girl.” He chuckled as she squirmed at his words, her cheeks flushing with the embarrassment of what she wanted being so obvious he had said it out loud.

Y/n nodded below him, biting down on her lip as Zemo shoved himself into her with one quick thrust. She gripped at the sheets below her as he filled her, a long moan slipping its way past her lips. When Zemo had begun to pull out she let out a little whine, only to soon let out a yelp as he harshly shoved himself in. He continued his deep rough thrusts at a fast pace making Y/n unable to form any thoughts, only a string of moans escaping her.

“Baron, god, fuck, you fill me up so well.” she struggled to get the words out through her moans. Zemo seemed to like her inability to speak well, his cocky grin never leaving his face as he pounded into her, his grunts like music to Y/n’s ears. It was then she realized she was under Zemo’s thumb, she would do anything to experience this moment again and again, but oddly enough there was nowhere else she would rather be.

“You’re so insufferable, but right now, like this, you’re nothing but mein little hase. My little fucktoy, all mine.” Baron groaned out, leaning down from his position above her to bite her neck. Y/n knew it would leave a mark, she could feel a trickle of blood roll down to her collarbone, but she didn’t have the ability to care about anything but Zemo. “Tell me you’re mine, Hase. Who do you belong to? Who owns you, liebling?”

“You do Baron, I belong to you, you own me!” Y/n squealed out as she felt a tightening in her stomach, knowing her orgasm was close. Zemo seemed to know too as he reached down a hand and began to rub her clit just roughly enough as he pounded into her harder, causing her to drool a little from the pleasure she was receiving,

“Cum for me little hase, cum for me and I’ll fill you up with my cum. I’ll breed you like the little whore you are” He commanded with a growl. Y/n arched her back as she let out a loud moan, feeling the pleasurable release of her orgasm. She was panting as Zemo gripped her hips roughly and held her still as he spilled his warm cum into her. Y/n could feel the white liquid spill out of her once he pulled out. She didn’t care about how much of a mess she was, her brain was still fuzzy from her orgasm and the wild pleasure she had received from Zemo. 

Zemo had gotten mostly dressed, putting on his shirt as he admired his handiwork, seemingly unable to remove his eyes from the sight Y/n on the bed, his mark on her neck, his fingers bruised into her hips, and his cum trickling out of her. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and laid it on Y/n’s pliant body, allowing her to rest.

“You’re mine hase.” Zemo stood in the doorway of the room, Y/n too fucked out to fully understand what he was saying “And I don’t like to give up what’s mine.” He closed the door gently behind him as he went back to the party.

[buckyownsmylife]

woman’s world - chris evans smut

The one where Chris pisses you off during a panel, but then finds a way to apologize

Warnings: age gap, famous!reader, oblivious Chris, smut, unprotected sex

Chris’ P.O.V.

The panel had gone well, or as well as it could go when everyone was trying to push the idea of Y/N and I together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pursue something with her - quite the opposite in fact. I was completely infatuated with the young actress, but the problem was just that: she was young. Too young for me, probably. So it was becoming harder and harder to deal with everyone commenting on how great we would be together when it was already all I could think about, and there was nothing I could do to make it come true without looking like an absolute predator.

Still, there was no denying that my favorite part about this particular press tour had been getting to spend time with her. She was just the perfect company, especially in a situation like this, which frankly could easily become tiresome and irritating. She just had this way of being able to read me and know what I needed, so she’d easily take over when she noticed an interviewer was getting on my nerves or overstepping some boundaries. 

She was quickly becoming my favorite person, but unfortunately, the rest of our cast had noticed as much. And so that meant that for the last day or so, I’d forced myself to pull away from her, deliberately sitting as far away as possible and not even glancing her way whenever there was a camera around. I even managed to have a quick reaction when the panel moderator joked about us being the perfect couple, and I was proud of how my cry of “She’s a kid, for God’s sake!” had made everyone laugh, even my friends who had been keen on insisting I should ask her out. 

So needless to say, I was in a good mood. Such a great mood, in fact, that I’d decided to ask Y/N to come back to my room so we could grab a beer and watch some movies. Asking around for where she had gone, someone pointed in the direction I thought I’d seen her head to, and after a couple of seconds, I managed to see her in the middle of the sea of people. Then it was just a matter of smoothly dodging everyone trying to lure me into pointless conversations and then she was already within ear reach. 

Or so I thought, at least. I tried calling her name countless times, but she didn’t look back once. In fact, she even quickened her step, and soon enough I had to physically run so I could follow her into the elevator that could take us to the floor where we were staying. 

I didn’t think too much of it, considering she probably thought I was someone else and was doing the same as I was: trying to dodge anyone who wanted to make us stay a bit longer on the crowded floor where the convention was taking place. But then we were inside the elevator and she didn’t even turn to look me in the eye. 

More importantly, when I reached out to rub my thumb on her wrist, to signal that I wanted to hold her hand, the response I got was a harsh, “Is this your way of subtly hinting that you want to hold my hand? Because it’s quite cute, but I’m not in the mood for that at all.”

The attitude caught me by surprise in such a way that I was only able to snap out of it once the elevator’s doors opened, but before I could ask what the fuck was going on, she had ran out of it, walking towards her room with determination.

Oh no, she wouldn’t. There was no way I was letting her hide in her room, angry at me, when I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. I sprung into action, running after her and managing to hold the door just before she was able to slam it in my face.

“What’s going on?” I cried out, pushing my way inside the room as she just stared up at me with hurt eyes and a pout on her lips. “What did I do?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms while looking away from me, before I managed to pull her closer by her wrists when I pried her arms open again. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

She glanced at me with furrowed brows, quickly averting her eyes before looking back again with an unamused expression. “You’re really gonna act like you don’t know.” Anxiety coursed through my veins at a scary pace. It was clear that I’d hurt her, but I had no idea how!

“I really don’t know!” I cried out, begging her to answer me, so I could make this better. I couldn’t bear the thought of offending her, of possibly losing her… and her friendship. Since that was all I could get from her, I was gonna fight with everything to keep it. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

For a second, it seemed like she would relent. But when her eyes met mine again, it was clear that whatever she saw on mine reminded her of the reason that she was mad, because just when I started to smile, she caught a second wind, pulling her hands from me and turning her back. 

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about making me feel better. I thought I was just a kid to you.” And then, suddenly, it made sense. Flashes of what had happened not even an hour earlier played in my head, this time her face being the focus of it all. Perhaps it wasn’t perceptible for everyone else that her smile faltered when I shouted that idiotic thing, but to me it was.

To me it was, and still, back then, I didn’t see it. I chose not to see it, because I was so scared to deal with the truth. Instead, I ended up hurting her. And that was literally the last thing that I wanted. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I immediately offered, raising a hand to scratch the back of my neck. “I just… I didn’t want them to start creating any narratives about us two together, you know? I mean… You know how they can get. And I can’t be… We can’t be... associated… like that.”

I knew I had screwed up even before it became clear that she wouldn’t answer. Despite how cautiously I’d tried to phrase it, it ended up sounding weird even to my own ears. And when she didn’t turn around to look me in the eye again, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt myself deflating, my heart beating desperately against my chest, terrified of losing her simply for being my stupid self.

“C’mon… You know what I mean,” I breathed out, trying to approach her and resting a hand on one of her shoulders, but she simply shook it off. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t be like that.” I made myself flinch with just how poorly I was handling that situation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do or say. Don’t be like what? “Like a child?” I asked, my tone icy enough to layer the tension in the room with one more level of awkwardness, and I didn’t need to see Chris to know that he was a mixture of nervous and confused, at the very least.

I knew it because I was, too. I was completely thrown off by my own behaviour, as weirdly as that sounded. I didn’t know why I was so defensive, except that I did. I did know it, I just didn’t want to admit. 

“Well, this child wants to be left alone. I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” And I stormed off into the bathroom, only stopping to take a breath when I was sure the door was locked behind me. I needed to put some distance between myself and him, otherwise I was gonna lose it - even worse than I already did. 

But it was too late to keep on ignoring my feelings. I was forced to deal with the reality of them, at least with myself, since I knew - especially after today - that there was no way I would ever get to reveal to Chris that I’d fallen for him.

To him, I was just a kid, and that’s all I would forever be.

Weirdly, I didn’t feel like crying as I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower, decided to wash away all of the bad feelings that this day had brought me. I just felt… disappointed, like a kid who’s been dreaming about a Christmas present only to find out they’ve been given socks. I’d been hopelessly trying to ignore my feelings for Chris, but at least a small part of me still fed into the ridiculous idea that he could possibly reciprocate those sentiments.

Now that it was obvious it would never be the case, it was like a small part of me had died on that stage.

By the time I got out of the shower, some twenty minutes later, I decided to put on a loose shirt I had kept around from some ex and take a nap until it was time to be social again. Certainly my friends would want to hit the bars or at least grab some dinner, and it would provide me with the perfect occasion to apologize to Chris.

Yes, that was perfect. That would get me a few more hours where I could manage to fabricate some resemblance of control before I had to see him. And then it would all go back to the way it was: me, pretending I don’t have a crush, while he kept seeing me as a kid.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the massive body hidden beneath the covers in my bed until I went to uncover it so I could slide in.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my bed,” I chastised, but Chris only gave me those annoyingly effective puppy eyes that had me groaning. “No. You don’t get to do this. I’m still mad at you, go to your room and we’ll talk about it later, but for now, just let me wallow in peace.”

But still, he didn’t let up. I tried to climb on the bed, but he was now smack down on the middle of it, still pouting with those perfect full lips of his. 

“Get. out. of. the. Bed.”

“Not until you tell me what I can do for you to forgive me. C’mon, baby girl, just let me make it up to you.” When I didn’t answer, making sure to avoid his eyes, he simply reached out and grabbed me by my hips, forcing me to sit on his lap. “Please?” He quietly begged, one hand cradling my face while the other maintained its grip on my hip. 

The movement had caught me by surprise, and my mouth fell open as I realized that because the shirt had ridden up, I was sat panties glued to Chris’ jeans. And if that wasn’t enough to throw me into a ridiculously horny state, the fact that I could feel just how hard he was certainly did.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be shy,” he pressed, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, finding a hazy lust that reflected mine and a very, very naugthty smirk that didn’t help my current about-to-get messy situation. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I took a sharp inhale, thinking about what I was about to say. Could I really do this? Should we even do this? I still wasn’t completely sure about what the hell had happened, but one thing I was certain of, and that was that I really wanted him to, “Kiss me.”

For all the reservation I expected Chris to have about this, he didn’t hesitate a single second before pulling me to meet his lips, and it was everything I thought kissing him would be like. His lips were soft and as patient as he seemed to try to be, there was an undeniable edge of neediness in the way his tongue swiped my bottom lip, begging me for entrance.

“You’re not gonna let me in, honey?” He whispered against my lips, warm breath making me shiver in his arms before I was able to gather my thoughts.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” I shrugged, but by Chris’ teasing smile, I knew I had just given him exactly what he wanted. In a quick move, he had me sprawled on the bed underneath him, while he hovered over me with dark eyes that I never thought I’d get to see outside of my dreams.

“Let me show you why you’re wrong.”

Chris’ P.O.V.

I started by rubbing the outside of her thighs until she opened her legs enough for me to settle in the space between them. I paid close attention to the way her breath hitched even with the softest of touches, incapable of stopping the grin that made its way into my face.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sensitive, baby.” She whined as I lowered myself to replace my fingers with my lips, slowly making out with the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “You see? This is why I was scared to reveal my feelings for you. It’d be so easy to ruin you.”

By the way she bit on her lower lip, I knew I had reached my goal of making her even more bothered with what I had said, and slowly, I ran my hands up her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her further down, closer to my mouth. I ran my tongue over her lower lip, just barely gathering the excess moisture, and despite how clearly affected she was, Y/N managed to grab my hair and whisper, “I think you’re full of it, Evans.” It made me smirk, but before I could even offer a comeback, she just continued, “But even if you’re right… I’d like nothing more than to be ruined by you and only you.”

A sharp inhale later and a competition of stares, I pounced on her, devouring her little pussy like I’d wish to do so many fucking times before. She was sweet, but her moans were even sweeter, and the combination of sounds and taste and smell only served to intoxicate me, make me even more thrilled about finally having this gorgeous woman underneath me.

As her juices dripped from my jaw on the bed, she kept caressing my head, keeping me closely connected to her like I would ever dream of stepping away from this moment. I wanted to stay right here forever, away from people’s judgements and the overwhelming fear that she would think this was a mistake after it was over.

And right here, as my nose brushed her clit as I plunged my tongue as far as it could go inside her hole, she came right before my eyes, her honey dripping onto my tongue as I came up to toy with her clit before at last parting with her taste.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I pointed out, stealing her lips with mine so I could share her taste with her, so she’d know I was right. “You’re sweet all over. Shit, I really want to fuck you.” My voice became nothing but a whisper, and soon her hands were cradling my face, thumb playing with my bottom lip before I sucked it. It was true. I craved to feel her from the inside, know what it was like to possess her in that way, too.

“Then fulfill both of our wishes. I really want to be fucked by you.”

Godfuckingdamn. This girl was just perfect. I knew right then, I’d made the right choice by deciding to stick around. When she appeared wearing nothing but that shirt, I forgot all of the reasons that were holding me back from simply taking her, and even now, they didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Your wish is my command.” I heard the words and braced myself to finally feel his cock inside of me, but still, the second that its head managed to fit, a long, drawn-out moan revealed just how impossible it was for me to restrain myself as Chris stretched me open around his member.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, and it surprised me so much that it made my eyes widen as I stared up at him, hands still holding tightly on his muscular shoulders. “Sorry! Sorry.” He repeated as he bottomed out, forehead resting against mine as he seemed to catch his breath. “I just… I imagined your moans, but hearing them is a completely different thing altogether.”

The sentence had butterflies flying in my stomach and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me. I was lying in bed completely naked with a still fully clothed Chris Evans on top of me, and his cock was filling me in ways I’d never been filled before while he kept releasing these breathy little moans that had my heart skipping a beat every damn time my mind registered them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has been dreaming about this,” I settled for whispering in his ear before sucking on his earlobe, and a shiver passed through his body, making me giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly before deciding to do it again. “But I’m even more glad that this is actually happening right now.” What could I add to this? I didn’t think there were any combination of words possible. So I resigned myself to feel it, memorize every single thing about this moment when Chris started to pull out only to push back in again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, and in that moment, I’d let him do anything to me, just as long as he kept fucking me like this.

His thrusts felt like waves washing over the shore, bringing the tide of desire higher and higher and I could feel it reaching the point where it all changed, the point where my life would turn upside down because I would know what it felt like to cum around Chris’ cock, and the anticipation was enough to have me writhing on the unmade sheets of the hotel bed.

“Shit,” Chris chuckled, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a soft look on his. “You’re unbelievable, sweetheart.” I could see the desire in his darkened pupils. I was sure it mirrored my own. “So beautiful, and you take my cock so well.”

Hearing him talk dirty was everything I’d always wished for, and I could feel myself getting even wetter around him, whines and whimpers escaping my chest as I held him closer to me.

“Fuck, I really wanna buy you a collar with my name on it. Make sure everyone knows I own you now.” The words, paired with the warmth of his breath had me clenching around him, and I fucking melted when I heard him meanly chuckle at my state - the state that he had caused me. “You want it too, huh?”

I really, really did. I’d never been one for external marks of possession, but something about this, about Chris and I, really had me going crazy for his proposal. Maybe because a part of me thought he would never want to admit this had ever happened. I thought he would try to deny it, and so to hear him wishing to boast about it… It really had me going crazy under him.

“Say it.” His voice cut through the haze, making me realize I was actually about to cum again. It took me a while to understand what it wanted, just enough to have him ordering again, in a tone of voice that made every single part of me tingle, “Say you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I do. I want everyone to know I’m yours and only yours, Christopher.” I don’t know if it was the desperation in my tone, my use of his full name or the fact that I came again, but that finally had him losing the control of his movements, quickly pulling out of me and jerking himself off until his cum was painted all over my stomach.

For a second, it was only our labored breaths in the bedroom, staring at each other like we couldn’t believe this had really happened. “Still think I’m a kid?” I had to laugh, biting my lower lip while trying not to show that I actually was really nervous about his reaction now that we were done. But his eyes softened, a quick kiss deposited on my lips before he cradled me in his arms, cum and all, and answered, “You’ll always be my little girl. I just want to do some very adult stuff to you.”

[sundaysundaes]

Thirst

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 3.8k | Vampire AU

Summary: You have walked the earth for more than a hundred years but your eternity finally means something the second you meet a human boy with smiles brighter than the sun.

Warnings: Vampire!Reader X Human!Hyuck, unprotected sex, blood sucking

“Wait, ah…” 

You pull back at the sound of his voice, fingers squeezing his upper arm. “Nervous?”

Donghyuck throws his head back and runs a hand over his face. He averts his gaze, slightly hiding behind his lean fingers. “Of course, I’m nervous,” he confesses, the tip of his ears turning scarlet. “I have a cute girl sitting on my lap, about to drink blood from my neck—how could I not be nervous?”

You reach out to him, gently running your fingertips at the side of his throat, and see him swallow hard at your touch. You can hear his heartbeat soaring, which only fuels your thirst for his blood. It has been days since you last drank from him and the flame in your throat is scorching. You know that if you don’t do something about it fast, you’ll lose what’s left of your humanity.

“Hyuck…” You plead, gripping against the collar of his black shirt. “I’m… I really need to drink…”

All the anxiety on his face is replaced instantly with concern. “Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, unfastening two of his top buttons to reveal more of his collarbones. The previous bite marks have begun to fade on his skin, appearing almost as faint as the little mole he has on his Adam’s apple. He’s beautiful, so beautiful, that if your mind wasn’t too clouded with the thoughts of consuming human blood, you would praise and cherish every little detail of his features with your lips.

Donghyuck closes his eyes, eyebrows adjoined in the middle in anticipation of your bite. His hand is fisting his collar, slowly tugging it down to reveal more sun-kissed skin to your glowing eyes. “H-have it your way.”

The way he’s reacting like a child curling up in fear of a syringe being plunged into their skin, makes you feel contrite but there’s no other option but to consume what he offers. Otherwise, your thirst for blood will drive you to the brink of your sanity, forcing you to do something even more terrible to him.

You try your best to divert your attention and focus more on trying to comfort him, even when your entire body nearly blazes in flame. Softly, you brush your lips against the column of his throat.

Donghyuck shivers, his breathing tatters. “Don’t—“ He curls his fingers, nails sinking into his palms when he feels your mouth move to lay wet kisses down his chest. “Don’t do that, please.”

“I’m trying to calm you down.”

“Well, you’re doing the opposite 'cause then I’ll be nervous for an entirely different reason.” Donghyuck brings the back of his hand to his mouth, murmuring the words against his skin. But despite the heat that warms his cheeks, he does seem a bit more relaxed, slightly smiling sheepishly at you over his flirtatious words. “I’m fine, just do it.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. Caught off guard, the blush blooms a little wider on his face but he tenderly strokes your cheek. “We’ll do that again after you’re finished,” he promises, “A lot of that.” His hooded eyes are captivated with the way your lips glisten under the slide of his thumb. “Right here.”  

You smile in return. Landing yet another soft kiss to his jaw this time, you extend your fangs and make your mark.

Donghyuck winces away from the pain of your cuspids puncturing the skin under his jaw, right between the earlobe and the collarbone. His hand immediately finds your shoulder, fingers twisting against the fabric of your dress. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes shut close as he endures the pain, but in the next few seconds, his breathing gradually becomes slower.

His head swirls as the rush of endorphin fills his system, elevating him with bliss. He slides his hand down from your shoulder to your arm, resting it on the dip of your waist. You can hear him curse under his breath but he slowly relaxes, his body reclining with you pressed tightly against his chest.

“You’re not so gentle today, are you?” He chuckles softly, slurring a little bit as his thoughts become hazy with ecstasy. “You don’t usually bite me like that.”

You can’t respond, too busy drowning in the pleasantness of his blood.

“So serious.” He quietly laughs. “Well, I guess, it has been a while since we did this so you must be very thirsty.” His free hand slips around your neck, tangling your locks around his fingers. He lets his lips brush against your strands as he murmurs, “I’m sorry… It must have been painful.”

It was painful. So painful that you were about to lose your mind, but with Donghyuck’s arms wrapped around your body protectively, his warm skin under your fingertips, and his sweet, sweet blood on your tongue, every pain, every suffering, every torture you’ve experienced vanishes into a blur.

“Calm down,” he whispers, his honeyed voice soothes you more than anything else in the world. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

And as he relishes the feeling of your tongue on his skin, your teeth sinking to draw even more blood, he closes his eyes again, and witnesses a flashback behind his eyelids.

Eight years-old Lee Donghyuck stood on the frozen ground with his tiny gloves covering his trembling fingers. Smokes of warm breaths were clouding over his mouth. His teeth chattered from the cold; a weird, repetitive melody to his ears. And although his tears were no longer falling, his reddened cheeks were still lined with them. 

“Jaeminnie…” He sniffed, one arm hugging himself by the waist while the other one moved to rub his puffy eyes. “Jaeminnie, where are you…?”

His warm chocolate brown beanie was no longer covering his head—a small reminder of how he had previously tripped himself and scraped his knee on the way down. It hurt. His trousers were ripped open from the fall, enough to show the small bleeding wound on his right knee. Kissed by the cold, his ears were red to the tips, freezing. 

He was alone. And lost. And no matter how much he called out for Jaemin’s name over and over again, no one ever came to reply.

Losing strength, Donghyuck fell to his knees. His gloved covered fingers sank into the five centimeters deep white snow and he began to cry, as loudly as he could, just like how he usually did at nights when he was too scared of the monster lurking under his bed.

He cried, and he cried, and he cried, and then he stopped.

He was not alone.

Donghyuck had his gaze on you; his big, watery, round eyes blinking in surprise. Your dress was tainted with splotches of red, fresh liquid that dripped from your chin as you just feasted upon a human. Turning around to look at him, Donghyuck noticed something peculiar.

Your eyes were glowing, strikingly so. Even in the darkness, even when the moon didn’t set afoot to shine that night in the silenced forest, Donghyuck saw them shining like the stars. And they were brighter, much brighter than anything he had ever witnessed.

The little boy stopped crying and gazed back at you. But no matter how cold your eyes were as they raked in his features, Donghyuck was not as much afraid as he was curious of why you could stand in the middle of December, wearing nothing but a sleeveless knee-high summer dress. And he was still starstruck with your glowing topaz eyes.

When he reached out a hand, you took a step back by instinct. Humans made you nervous, especially after your last encounter with the hunters. The memory of one of them nearly driving a stake into your heart made you more cautious than ever, even when your opponent was only a child.

Donghyuck stood up and dared himself to take another step and this time you bared your teeth in response. Your natural human face suddenly dispersed into a form of fear the second Donghyuck saw your teeth.

They were fangs, small but sharp enough to tear skin apart. You snarled, like a beast in a corner, ready to pounce when threatened. 

But Donghyuck’s fear only lasted for a minute, while his curiosity and admiration lasted forever.

“You…” Donghyuck spoke, his voice quivered from the cold and perhaps, excitement. Blood was still dripping from the corner of your mouth and he saw a long cut, spreading from your right palm to her wrist. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding…”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, blinking twice before your shoulders began to loosen.

“If you’re hurt, I have band-aids,” Donghyuck said, immediately shoving his small hand inside his pocket to grab two blue band-aids with soccer balls printed on them. He showed them to you, his teeth still chattering from the cold. “See?”

You examined him more, looking for any kind of sign that he might be a threat to your existence but it was no use. Donghyuck was as harmless as he was adorable. He didn’t even have the strength to keep his little, stubby fingers steady from the cold.

“Why are you crying?” You asked instead, standing a little better in a less offensive stance. 

Donghyuck finally remembered. “Nana… Jaeminnie’s gone… He fought with his brother so we went out here to have some time for ourselves but… But we got separated and now he’s gone...”

“In the woods like this?” You wiped the blood off your mouth with the back of your hand. “What, do you want to die? It’s not safe.”

“N-no—I don’t want to die… I didn’t mean it to be like this.” The little boy shook his head. “I was just trying to help… Jaeminnie looked sad and I wanted to help…”

You fell quiet for a moment, noticing how Donghyuck’s eyes had turned watery once again. You retracted your hands, no longer had your claws out to defend yourself. “Maybe your friend’s already gone home first.” 

“Y-you think?” Donghyuck’s eyes grew hopeful and that was when you realized that the boy was not crying because he was lost in the woods late at night, nor was he crying because he thought his friend abandoned him. Donghyuck was crying because he was worried sick about him. “W-well, if he’s home then that’s great… I really hope he’s with his family again… Fighting is bad…”

So frail, you thought, humans are so frail. Leave them and they cry. Break them and they die.

You sighed. You couldn’t find the heart to leave him alone.“Come with me,” you said, “I’ll help you find your way out of the woods. You can check whether he’s home or not after that.”

And Donghyuck was not one to think twice when people offered him help. With a bright smile, he let his little feet carry him closer to your spot. “I’m Donghyuck,” he said, smiling brightly as he stood beside you. “And you are?”

You glanced at him, noticing how his bangs were fluttering from the winter breeze. His nose was red and his skin, although it was slightly tanned, was thin and easy for you to sink your teeth into if you wanted to. 

You told him your name and you had to repeat it twice until he could pronounce it correctly. He smiled even warmer. “Your name is pretty. Just like you, Noona!”

Noona? You almost snorted. When was the last time someone ever called you that?

But you kept yourself in silence and although you appeared cold, Donghyuck managed to find your charm in his own way. 

“Can I hold your hand on the way out, Noona?”

“Don’t get too full of yourself, brat.”

Twenty years-old Lee Donghyuck smiles at the memory, even when he’s somewhat dazed from the chemical of your saliva. He embraces you tighter, sighing close to your ear, “It took a while before you warmed up to me. I’m just so glad you accept me the way I am.”

That’s my line. You close your eyes, fingers curling against the back of his shirt. You can faintly hear his heartbeat growing slower and during the time you begin to worry, Donghyuck caresses your cheek.  

“Can we…” He breathes heavily. “Stop for a moment?” His head swirls, always an aftereffect from having his blood sucked more than he can contain. But even then, he still smiles like always.

“Oh…” Embarrassed and startled, you pull away, immediately wiping the trace of blood on the corner of your lips with the back of your hand. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Umm…” Donghyuck witnesses your fangs before they’re fully retracted, as you turn away, shy and ashamed, hiding the only thing that distinguishes you from a normal human. 

Donghyuck smiles wider, and wider, until he produces this little chuckle that always sends a trickle of warmth and desire through your soundless heart. “You’re adorable, come here,” he says, hugging you from behind and tugging you closer to his chest, your intertwined hands lying idly on your lap.

After years have passed by since your first encounter, Donghyuck has become stronger and taller, with broader shoulders and veiny muscles appearing along his wrists. You, in return, stay as young as always, never changing. But like this, sitting above his thighs and curling up to his chest, you look like a normal girl, perhaps even a few months younger than he is.

“Hyuck...” 

“Hmm?”

“Did it... hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

You don’t indulge him with his jokes. “When I bit you, did it hurt?”

“Yeah, but I like it.” He grins, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Seems like I’ve developed a kink for it.” When you don’t mirror his laugh, he embraces you tighter. “I’m fine,” he whispers to your ear, tickling you with his warm breath. “Just a little low on blood, but come on, it’s nothing new.”

You don’t say anything but Donghyuck understands how guilt is gnawing at you from the inside. “Hey,” he gently turns your body around until he has his eyes peering into yours. You’re reluctant, not sure how to face him with the look of guilt on your face. “I said I’m fine. Can’t you see?” he coos, smiling with his chocolate brown eyes turning crescents. “Don’t look like that. You know I don’t like it when you’re blaming yourself for drinking my blood.”

“But it’s…” You nibble on your lower lip. “It’s not right.”

“You’re just filling your needs,” Donghyuck corrects you. “What’s wrong with it? I do it all the time. Think about this as your late-night snack.”

“Hyuck, I’m snacking on your blood.”

“And yet you’re the one who complains about it. You see how weird that is?” You shoot him a glare but Donghyuck counters back with a pout—a habit from his childhood days that somehow only occurs more often now that he’s an adult. “Look, I volunteered to do this. I want you to drink my blood.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, leaning close. “I’ll be pissed-off if you drink from someone else, actually. You’re supposed to be mine, just as much as I am yours.”

It’s funny how you’re superior than him in terms of experience, strength, and possibly anything else, but he shamelessly talks like he owns you. And you don’t mind, not at all, because after living behind the shadows for so long, it’s nice to have someone as bright as the sun holding you captive under his light.

You trail your fingers through the blood on his neck, painting his skin with crimson. “I’ve made a mess,” you mumble to yourself and Donghyuck stiffens, even stops breathing for a second. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, darting out your tongue to wipe the rest of his blood away, slowly and gently so you won’t scrape his skin with your fangs.

“Don’t hold back.” He holds you closer until your teeth are grazing against the supple skin. “It’s okay if you want to do it again.”

The temptation is too much, too strong, and you can’t find the will or strength to decline. “T-then... Just a little more.”

Donghyuck’s ragged breathing devolves into soft moans that ring in your ears, and you want him so desperately in every sense of the word. “Fuck, it’s so weird that it feels this good,” he sighs, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him. “Do I taste this good to you too?”

You hum, squeezing his shoulder.

He smiles between deep sighs. “Then, I guess, we’re both each other’s drugs.”

You only take a sip of his blood and lick the rest until nothing seeps out from his wound. Donghyuck is in a haze, eyes nearly closed when he smiles softly. “Are you done?”

You nod, wiping your mouth clean. “Thank you.”

“You’re being too formal.” He titters. “But you’re welcome. Anytime you want.”

You don’t really blush, not when you’ve lived for more than a century, but Donghyuck has his way to break into your facade and knows when he’s succeeding. He says there’s just something in the way you avert your gaze, the way you lick your lips nervously, or the way you put a hand on his chest as if you were about to push him away, but at the same time, making sure that he stayed near.

Donghyuck understands all that. He knows you like the back of his hand. 

“Listen to me,” Donghyuck says, cupping your face with both hands so he can stare directly into your glowing eyes. “If you ever crave for blood, you come to me, okay? I won’t let you starve. I won’t let you die. You can drink from me, as much as you want. I want you to.”

You’re surprised at the sudden pressure on his words and Donghyuck’s hands are hot, nearly scorching compared to your icy cold skin but they’re comfortable. He reminds you of the sun, of its heat on your skin during the day, reminding you how good your life was as a human.

“But I’m not even alive, Hyuck,” you say, smiling weakly as you lean more into his touch.

“Scientifically, no.” He shifts closer to press his forehead against yours, his heat seeping through your skin. “But to me, you’re much more alive—and you make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”

You want to meet his eyes, but his stare is directed to your lips. “Is that a compliment or a white lie?” You whisper, and his eyes grow half-lidded when he sees you moving your lips to form a sentence.

“It’s the truth.” Donghyuck swallows the soft noise you make directly with his mouth, lips slanting against yours perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. He groans from the back of his throat when he tastes a hint of his blood on your tongue, kissing you deeper with more passion.

Being with Donghyuck is suffocating and it’s funny because you don’t even need to breathe to live. It’s suffocating in the sense of how desperate his kisses are, how there is only one innocent kiss at the beginning that only lasts for a few seconds and then vanishes entirely, changing into hard, bruising, deep ones that feel possessive and dominating.

But being with him is also comforting. He gives you solace you don’t know you need. His touch, a stark contrast to his kisses, is gentle, almost silky smooth whenever his hands glide on your skin. He’s the only one who knows how to make you laugh, even when you can hardly remember how or the sound that you make when you do. His laughter is contagious, his protested whines are both annoying and endearing. He’s the fire that keeps you alive.

“Hyuck—” You circle your fingers around his wrist, feeling the heartbeat that faintly beats under the skin. “Wait, you’re losing a lot of blood—”

“I don’t care,” he gasps against your mouth, yanking his hand from your hold so he can cup your cheek. “I’m fine, so let’s just—“ You let him overpower you for once to do as he pleases and he pushes you down to the carpeted floor, crawling on top of your body. “I want you—for two weeks, I’ve been—I’ve missed you—”

Donghyuck is adorable when he wants something so desperately, like the way he furrows his eyebrows as he runs his fingers on his keyboards. The way he’s shouting a train of expletives at his computer screen before he leaps out of his chair, punching the air when he finally completes the mission. 

Donghyuck is captivating when he desires to achieve something in his life, like the way he practices dancing over and over again to earn a scholarship to college. Or the way he told you he loved you a few months ago, and no matter how many times you said no, telling how ridiculous of him to even think about being with a vampire, he never relented. 

And Donghyuck is beautiful—so out worldly beautiful—when he wants you.

It’s beautiful, the little moan that escapes his lips when you touch him back. Even the slightest touch at the right spot can make him shiver and he blushes when you notice him react that way, immediately saying, “It’s just cold here, okay? And your ice-cold skin isn’t helping.” 

It’s beautiful, the way a bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he’s sheathed deep inside you, not quite moving yet as he tries to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. “You’re driving me insane,” he confesses, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, grazing his lips against your skin as he sighs. “Can we stay like this forever?”

It’s beautiful, the way he laughs when you answer him with, “Actually yes, we can, if you’re willing to be turned into a vampire.” The appalled look on his face only stays for a split second before he beams at you, his smile bright enough to replace the sun. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he giggles, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he whispers, “Any man would be happy to sacrifice their souls to be able to make love to you for eternity. Including me.” And as he moves back to your lips, he adds, “Especially me.”

It’s beautiful, the way he throws his head back in pleasure at the feeling of you clenching around him. The way he murmurs expletives while biting his lip as he brings his eyes down to you. His expression is erotic, his voice obscene, his lips are parted and bruised. His hands are on your knees as he spreads your legs apart, pushing himself deeper inside. “I can never get enough of you. I—“ He flinches when his thrust hits your sweet spot and you squeeze harder around him in response.

It’s beautiful, the way he rambles when the sensation becomes too much. “The way you feel around me—” He places open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hips moving frantically at a faster pace. “Y-your entire existence—” His hand heads over to your breast, his thumb sliding over your nub. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And it’s fucking beautiful, the way he says your name in a soft gasp as he comes inside you, his arms trembling when he places them on the floor on each side of your head to keep him from collapsing on top of you. His temple is pressed against your collarbone and he quivers when you kiss his hair. His lips immediately chase after yours when his name escapes your mouth, and he kisses you again, and again, as if he hasn’t been kissing you a thousand times already.

“Stay with me,” he begs, his hooded eyes nearly hidden behind the bangs that are damp from his sweat. “I’ll keep you alive—as alive as you make me feel so please just…”

Don’t leave me.

***

[motivatedtocry]

Obey me! Leviathan x GN! MC

Want Another Kiss?

I decided to write a continuation of this since someone requested it. ☺︎︎

Just MC trying to give Levi lots of kisses and love. Things get even spicier, though.

Word count: 1.8K

᯽ Part One

| WARNING | NSFW. dom! mc x sub! levi

You couldn't even stop to think that you were actually taking things further with Levi.

Levi, the demon that just moments ago was freaking out over sitting near you.

Levi, the demon that is now sliding his hands on every part of your body that he could reach and then holding you down by your waist, making you grind against him.

You were having the time of your life having the one person you enjoy to be the most with touch you like it was the last day you two will see each other. His movements, especially the movements of his hips, needy for more touch, were clumsy. You could also still feel hands shaking a little, but you found it all endearing.

On the other hand, Leviathan had his mind working a mile a minute; trying to recall more than a thousand years' worth of lewd things he has encountered but never really had a chance to try out with another being.

Antisocial, socially awkward, weird otakus are not the most pleasing to others. They neither want to be near others and risk still being misunderstood or even judged.

You, however, liked him. You did your very best to get close to him, make him feel comfortable; even if he was terrible to you when you guys met. You understood his struggles. His sometimes raging envy, his insecurities, his constant need to be in his room just to find the comfort he couldn't get when he was outside. You enjoyed the things he did, being with him.

The appreciation he had for you rapidly turned into an almost frenzied lust. He let out an, ironically, angelic moan under you when ground against him a bit more firmly. As this happened, his hands tugged onto your shirt quite tightly. His joggers were thin enough for you to be able to feel him almost whole, and of course, for him to feel your warmth even above clothes.

"MC, p-please. I feel like I'll go crazy if you don't–" He murmured, stopping himself mid-sentence. Embarrassment flushing over him momentaneously as he caught himself begging you.

You evilly chuckled, getting up from his lap. His legs extended when he brought you onto his lap earlier, and your job now was to separate them. With a smug on your face, you placed yourself between them, dangerously sliding your hand across the border of his joggers.

"If I don't do what, mhm?" You purred, finally getting your hand under his joggers and grabbing as much as you could. "Touch you?" You murmured to his ear, grabbing his earlobe between your teeth, making him shudder.

You didn't feel like giving him what he was craving for just yet, so your hand remained over his underwear, rubbing up and down. Even then, as your palm covered his length, you felt the dampness of his underwear as a result of his precum.

His moans became constant, full of need; driving you crazy. You loved playing with him, but you didn't know how much longer you could stop yourself from pleasing him.

"Levi," you called.

"Y-Yes?"

"Are you okay with doing all of this?" The movement of your hand didn't stop, and although his moans had paused, his breathing was quite heavy.

"Are y-you okay with it?" He asked in return.

You smiled at him, a mix of kindness and lasciviousness showing on your expression. "Why don't find out for yourself?"

You took your hand out of his joggers and leaned back. Leviathan had air trapped in his lungs, unable to breathe for a few moments. He had permission to touch you, okay.

Touch you.

How does he touch you?!

He swallowed hard and crawled closer to you. You did him the favor to take off your shirt, revealing all that was underneath. As Leviathan traveled his gaze over you, you could swear that his eyes had turned into a brighter color, almost shining. He almost moaned to the simple sight of you.

You looked so lovely, and there you were, in front of him.

He licked his lips, proceeding to place one hand on your back, to hold you and keep you close, while his other hand was placed on your chest. He reached for your neck, leaving small but wet pecks over it. By instinct, you put your hand on the back of his head, meaning to attract him more towards you. It was your turn to shudder the more he deliberately kissed and licked your neck. He seemed to notice this and became more eager to touch you. A thumb moved across your nipple, delicately but confidently brushing over it multiple times. You almost gasped to the touch, but you soon felt Leviathan suck on the skin of your lower neck, near your collarbone, and you moaned.

Hearing you more for him was just the final straw for Leviathan, whose member was throbbing in his joggers, on the verge of leaking through these. His demon form manifested in a matter of seconds. You started feeling a cold, damped tail swirling up your leg. You, a little hazed due to your arousal, didn't seem to mind. However, what Leviathan said next sparked something in you that you didn't know it would.

"You getting all the attention is so not fair. I want to be touched, too," he murmured. Strangely enough, as he kept touching you. But oh, you heard him.

And Leviathan knew you heard him.

He widened his eyes and separated to look at you, not realizing his envy talked for him until it was too late. "MC, I-"

You didn't let him answer. "Oh, so that is how you're feeling." You said, smiling. He leaned back and onto the floor, his tail immediately untwirling from your leg. "Levi, envious of even himself? How impressive."

Leviathan panicked at first but you didn't seem to have taken his comment the wrong way. In fact, you were getting on top of him once again. You looked at him, and now you were the one holding your breath. His hair was a bit messy, still falling on top of his eyes; flushed cheeks and ears, his lips slightly swollen caused by all the kissing on your neck.

What an adorable and delicious sight.

"I hope you know..." You started saying, sliding your hands under his shirt, lifting it in the process. "you were doing so good touching me." You sat right on top of his crotch; rubbing yourself against it more shamelessly than before and feeling it twitch as Leviathan let out an out-of-breath sort of moan. He was given what he wanted, but it made it ten times better hearing you praise him.

"But I just so happen to love touching you even more." You licked the center of his chest upwards, ending up playfully biting his chin when you finished. "And I would love you hear you beg." You whispered over his lips. Not being able to contain yourself, you kiss him briefly. "Are you okay with that?"

He whimpered. "I-I know what I said, but it's only fair if you feel good, too." He looked into your eyes but quickly looked away, blushing. "I don't mind b-begging."

It embarrassed him to no end, but he wasn't against it. The thought of it making you feel good was more persistent than his embarrassment.

"What a good demon you are," you smirk. "Take off your clothes for me, will you?"

Leviathan nodded, obedient. He began taking off his clothes painfully slow, but you waited patiently, having the chance to glance at his toned body. In the meantime, you also took care of the rest of your clothes. Once Leviathan was done, you noticed that he looked at you with a concerned expression, slightly covering his naked body.

Your heart clenched in your chest.

"Levi." You looked back at him lovingly, your voice softening as you spoke. "You don't have to cover yourself when you're with me."

"I'm still gross underneath it all. You may stop liking me." He responded, saddened.

"I can assure you..." you moved towards him. "There's no way I can stop liking you." You lifted his chin, making him look at you. "And you're nothing but one handsome demon in my eyes." Your lips formed a sweet smile.

Leviathan's heart jumped in his chest. Your smile, your words; they became once again the reason for his confidence to be something that was no longer unknown to him.

He stood up and made sure he took your hand for you to do the same. "Let's go to my bed," he said.

While holding your hand, he walked you to his bed-tub. It was a bit cramped with the two of you in it, but neither of you minded. You made sure to stroke Leviathan's member a few times, gaining more moans coming from him. It quickly became surprisingly slick; one because of his precum and two due to some sort of also viscous substance, lubricating just enough.

You didn't know why that was, but you were surely not unpleased about it.

You got on top of Leviathan once more, now alining his member in your entrance and soon after slowly sliding back down. You both moaned loudly at the same time to the fulfilling feeling. For you, having him stretching out your walls, and for Leviathan, feeling you take him completely was heavenly.

"Levi," you called; your voice sounding almost gone due to how quietly you called his name. "Move your hips."

And he did.

Leviathan held you with one arm around your waist, moving his hips back and forth. You couldn't sit still either, so you began doing the same thing, placing your arms around his neck. You leaned your head back to the pleasure he was giving you, and you could tell Leviathan felt the same. Multiple gasps and quiet, but needy, moans coming from him dying on your chest. Yours, mixed with his, died in the air the more he thrust in you.

The movement of both of your hips persisted and became faster. Before you knew it, both of your bodies were covered in sweat, the need for air became more notorious, and the sounds you were making, were louder.

But nothing other than the walls in Leviathan's room was a victim of what you two were doing.

"MC, you feel so good." He whimpered. "Please, don't stop."

And you didn't, not until you made sure that you both reached your climax. Leviathan rested his head on your chest as he did, almost roaring, but he suppressed it in his throat and it came out as a deep groan. You followed him right after, tensing up and scratching his back in response to how good you felt. His release felt warm inside you, and your vision was sort of blurry, but soft kisses on your chest caught your attention.

You looked at him, seeing him smiling just a bit. You giggled, putting your foreheads together, lightly brushing your noses. Then, you both allowed yourselves to live in the moment where your souls connected and became one.

[spencersankleholster]

XOXO, Spencer

A/N: This is my first fic so I hope you like it! Basically, Y/N performs at an open mic and Spencer is there. They meet, smut ensues, yadayada.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (f receiving),

Spencer didn’t usually like bars. They were too loud, too sticky, and because of his sobriety he couldn’t drink anyway, but tonight Morgan and Garcia had dragged him to an open mic at their favorite bar. Garcia had a friend performing, and Morgan was just there to pick up artsy college girls.

As Spencer walked into the bar, he automatically felt stressed. His germophobia and general social anxiety were quickly taking over. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to go home, to run, he stayed, if only for his friends' sake. They were having so much fun, and he’d hate to ruin a night out.

Spencer sat and drank Shirley Temples as acts continued to rotate through. Garcia’s friend was alright, if a bit dull, but he clapped loud anyway. Some acts were good, some were mildly painful, and most were rather unmemorable. Until you stepped on stage.

“Hey, guys! I’m Y/N, and tonight I’ll be performing a cover of Moon Song by Phoebe Bridgers! I’m, uh, I’m gonna get started now, but uh, I hope you enjoy!”

Spencer gave you a small smile as you fumbled through your introduction. You were never one for performing in public, but when you saw the poster for the open-mic in the hall of your dorm, you felt the urge to sign up. You thought, what’s the worst that could happen? Now, on stage, you hated the confident person that signed you up just two days ago. You could feel the audience watching you, and the feeling was terrifying. Finally, you closed your eyes and strummed the first chords.

“You asked to walk me home, but I had to carry you-“

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't entranced by you the moment you started singing. Even if he weren’t a profiler he’d be able to see the pure emotion and heart you put into music. It didn’t matter that the song wasn’t yours, he could tell you fully felt it. As you hit the last verse, and your face contorted with emotion, Spencer realized that he hadn’t breathed the entire time.

As you came back to earth after the performance, you looked into the faces of the crowd, waiting for a reaction. You met eyes with a young man - he was absolutely gorgeous, with big, kind-looking brown eyes, prominent cheekbones, and soft long brown hair. He gave you an earnest smile, and you sent one right back. As the clapping subsided and you walked off stage, you couldn’t help but look back at him over and over.

As you sat back at your table, he got up and head to the bar, and before you knew it you were following him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said quietly to him. He turned, looking surprised when he saw it was you.

“Oh, hi! Uh, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Doctor?” You replied

“Yeah, I uh, I have a few PHDs.” He said awkwardly

“Well then, nice to meet you Dr. Spencer Reid.” You said, smiling at his soft and endearing nature.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N. You were great up there, by the way. You looked like you were really getting into the music.”

“Really? I sometimes make this weird face when I sing, I hope that didn’t show up.” You chuckled

“Not at all. You were beautiful.” and you could tell, he truly meant it.

You spent the next hours talking about various subjects - food, literature, music, and most interestingly, his job as a profiler.

“So you’re like a mind-reader?” You asked excitedly

“Well, not really.” He laughed

“Profile me!” you said. He looked hesitant, but Spencer couldn’t resist the eagerness in your eyes. After making sure that you really wanted this, he began.

“Well, you’re obviously a college student, but I don’t think you major in music. You were nervous getting on stage and you likely don’t perform much, even for friends or family, but the callouses on your fingers tell me that you spend a lot of time with your guitar. You’re probably majoring in a humanity instead, and music is just for fun and self-expression. Small family, maybe a sibling or two, and I’d say that you’re the youngest. Oh, and from your sweatshirt I can say that you’re probably from New England.”

You looked down at your red sox sweatshirt and gave him a big grin. “Almost all correct, Dr. Reid, but I’m a middle child.”

“Dang it.” he huffed.

The rest of the night was spent laughing at each other's jokes and flirtatious banter. Eventually, Morgan and Garcia left for the night, giving Reid discreet thumbs up on their way out, but he barely noticed. You were both so involved in your conversation that you didn’t realize the bar had emptied out, and you were the last two left.

“Hey, guys, can you get out so I can go home?” The tired bartender said. Realizing the time, you both quickly went outside into the biting November night.

“God, it’s freezing! It wasn’t this cold when I went in!” You whined. You hadn’t worn a coat, it was 60 degrees when you left the house, but it being 1 am the temperatures had dropped significantly. Spencer shucked off his overcoat, handing it to you. Underneath, he wore a cozy blue sweater with a white t-shirt peeking out of the collar and a plaid scarf. Wrapping his coat around you, he felt nervous. A pretty girl, standing next to him in the middle of the night, wrapped in his coat. It sounds like a romance novel, but here he was living it.

“Won’t you be cold?” You said, looking concerned.

“Don't worry about me,” He said running a hand across your cheek, “I can handle it.”

Feeling his hand on your cheek, you started leaning toward him. He leaned in too, and soon your lips were locked in a warm embrace, chasing off the cold winter air. The two of you kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity, which was entirely too short. When you broke apart, neither of you felt so cold anymore.

“I don’t live too far from here, so if you wanted a nightcap, maybe some coffee, we could head over there?” Spencer said. He hadn’t invited many girls back to his apartment before, and doing so made him nervous, but when you softly replied “Yes” that all went away.

Holding hands, the two of you traipsed through the night, wrapped in each other’s warmth. When you reached his apartment, you stopped to kiss him before opening the door. Quickly, the kiss deepened, and the two of you kept kissing even as Spencer was opening the door. Fumbling through his apartment, knocking into walls and large stacks of books, you made it to his bedroom. Spencer hoisted you up to sit on top of his dresser and began kissing your neck. You moaned as he slowly nipped and licked down your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lightly grinded into his cock. Spencer moaned against you and quickly began grinding as well.

When Spencer moved away from you, you thought you had done something wrong, but a split second later he was pulling up the hem of your shirt and looking to you for permission. You peeled off your sweatshirt, leaving you in a thin tank top and bralette. Spencer leaned back in to kiss you and began massaging your boobs over the tank top.

“Why don’t we get this off too?” He breathed, referring to your tank top. You nodded and Spencer pulled the garment off of your body, leaving you in your fairly see-through bralette and jeans. To even the score a bit, Spencer then pulled off his own sweater, and seeing your opportunity, you helped him to shirk off the tight white t-shirt underneath as well. Moving to his bed, you sat straddling his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. He ogled you for a second, and then in one swift motion pulled off the remaining fabric covering your chest. Not wasting a moment, Spencer leaned in and began sucking on your boobs, moaning lightly against them.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” You moaned as he lightly bit down on your nipples. While still attached to your breast, he started unbuttoning your pants. Flipping you over with your back lying on the bed, he pulled down your jeans. You stared in awe as he knelt at the end of the bed, kissing up your calves and thighs, slowly teasing you. It was agonizing waiting for him to reach your core, but when he did, the wait was made worth it. He began by slowing licking up your heat, and then began sucking your clit. While still licking you, he eased his long fingers inside of you, curling up into your g-spot. With his tongue circling your clit and his two middle fingers hitting your g-spot, you could feel your climax quickly approaching.

“Please, fuck, Spencer!” You pleaded, making him go faster. Almost immediately, that wave of pleasure hit you like a truck, and you came on his tongue.

Panting, you sat up a bit, looking at the gorgeous sight of Spencer lapping up the rest of your juices. As soon as he finished, you pulled him up by the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Trying to pay him back, you leaned down and unzipped his pants, wanting to suck his cock, but he stopped you.

“No, baby, there's no time for that. I just want to be inside you.” There was no arguing with that. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his fully hard cock, pink and dripping with pre-cum. As much as Spencer loved the sight of you staring at his member, he wanted to get down to business. He reached to grab a condom from his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I have an IUD and I got tested last week. Clean. How about you?” you said

“I haven't been with anyone since I last got tested, and I was clean then. You wanna do this?”

“God, yes.” You replied.

Wasting no time, Spencer got on top of you and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed into you.

“Good girl, so tight for me.” He breathed. You moaned as you adjusted to his size, and after a moment, Spencer began to move. He went slowly at first, trying not to hurt you, but you were having none of that.

“Faster!” You demanded, and he listened. Picking up the pace, Spencer rocked into you, his hair cascading over his face and sweat dripping down his forehead. Instincts kicked in, and Spencer kept going faster and faster. He then pulled you against his chest, kissing you as he felt your walls contract around him. You felt his cock slip out of you, and his hands holding your face.

“Get on all fours, baby.” He commanded. You quickly obliged and turned over onto your hands and knees. Spencer moaned as he groped your ass and lined his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you faster this time, eliciting a loud moan from both of you, and then began to thrust hard. You could nearly feel him in you stomach, and from the way his cock was twitching inside of you and your walls tightening around him, you knew you would both climax soon.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. At this, Spencer sped up, now hitting your G spot perfectly. He grunted loudly with every thrust, and pulled your back against his chest to get an even deeper angle. Your climax came quickly after that, and you could feel yourself tightening even further. You screamed all the way through your high. A moment later, Spencer let out a loud moan and you felt yourself being filled with his cum. Spencer pulled himself out of you, and panting, you both crashed onto the bed. Spencer wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead, and then said,

“I loved hearing you sing earlier. And a minute ago.”

You laughed at the joke, still a little out of breath, and cuddled even closer to Spencer. Your head on his chest, you both fell asleep without a worry in the world.

The next morning, you woke up alone in his bed. Confused, you looked around, but then noticed a post-it note stuck to your hand.

“Y/N - Sorry for leaving so suddenly, but duty calls! I had an amazing time and I hope you did too. There’s a croissant on the table and there's still coffee in the pot, so help yourself, just lock the door behind you when you leave. Here’s my number, so call or text and maybe we can do this again. XOXO, Spencer.”