#not even talking about my damn ankles neck and spine

[frogsinflannel]

w.i.p. snippet that at this point I’m not sure is getting finished ??? 911 - Eddie POV on bucktommy

“I guess, uh. Guess we better go then.” Buck looks unsure, even as he says it, glancing between Eddie and Tommy as they all stand around Eddie’s kitchen.

“Sure,” Tommy says. “I’m ready to go if you are.” He leans back against the sink and takes a quick drink of his water. “We can go ahead and get out of your hair if that’s what you want, Eddie.”

“N-not that we’re trying to ditch you,” Buck says, too quick. “We don’t have to leave if—”

“What? You two gonna hang around here and I have to deal with whatever hormones all that whipped up?” Eddie gives him a flat look and Buck grins, ducks his head and looks half-sheepish and half-pleased.

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says. He readjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I guess we do have… plans.”

Tommy makes a noise, his face twitching, but when Eddie looks over it’s schooled back to indifference. His eyes are bright, though, and it’s not hard to figure out what Buck means by plans.

It must show on his face, because as soon as Eddie’s had the thought Tommy’s expression has gone scrunchy and smirky and then he winks. Eddie flushes before he can help it–which serves him right, he thinks, because that’s not something he should be thinking about his friends, right? Not what they’re about to leave his house to do to each other.

“Hey,” Tommy says, stepping over to Buck. “You can’t blame me, right Diaz?” His voice is warm and fond, a little teasing. “I mean, this guy?” He puts one big arm around Buck’s waist and tugs him, playful and close, until their bodies are pressed together. “Adorable.”

He’s talking to Eddie but it’s not for Eddie. It’s all for Buck.

And Buck knows it. Is delighted by it, if the expression on his face is telling. His eyes are fixed on Tommy and he’s grinning, tongue between his teeth so it sticks out of the corner of his mouth. “Did you hear that, Eddie?” he asks. He leans in closer to Eddie, raising a hand to cup the back of Tommy’s neck. “I’m adorable.”

“Sure you are, Evan.”

Tommy makes a soft, rumbly noise of approval–like a purr–and Buck chuckles at him, quiet and a little heated. Eddie turns away from them, grabs something just so his hands are busy. It feels intrusive–and it’s his damn kitchen. He hears the sound of a kiss, and embarrassed heat curls up his spine. He feels it reddening his neck and ears.

“Yeah, uh, sorry Eddie,” Buck says, distracted, and Eddie can only imagine why. He’s already pushing at Tommy, shoving him toward the door. “W-we gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through this hair. “You two get out of here.”

“Hey.” Buck drops Tommy’s hand and steps closer. “I’m serious. If you need us to stay or—if you need me to stay, then—“

“I got it, Buck,” he says, grumbling. “I’m a big boy. Now go. Maul your boyfriend before you pop a blood vessel. You’re getting your pheromones all over my kitchen.”

Buck laughs and then leans in, grabbing Eddie and reeling him in close. Their foreheads touch and Buck says “You got this, man. We… we got this. We got you.”

He pulls away and meets Tommy’s eye. He looks at Eddie with gentle, friendly concern. You good?

Eddie nods. “Go,” he says. “Get out of here.”

Buck grins, stepping backwards into Tommy. He looks over his shoulder, his expression morphing into something that Eddie recognizes as his horny face as his body spins to match his eyes. At this rate, Eddie estimates he’s about a minute away from getting his other ankle broken or having to listen to another (yeah, another—what the hell, Buck) dissertation on Tommy’s dick.

That’s definitely a hand on Buck’s ass now, and they’re swaying into each other, Buck’s eyes fixed on either Tommy’s mouth or chin.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, low and rough. “We’re gonna…” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Buck.

“Bye!” Buck calls. He’s pushing Tommy out and they’re both laughing and leaning in for another rushed kiss, stumbling over their feet. Eddie rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself.

[nightly-ruse]

You ever get that kinda ache where your spine just feels like a sharp metal rod that’s in your back and you ankles are socks filled with heavy rocks always pulled down by gravity?

[curseddollfaye]

What ab toji with flexible reader 🤭

“i gotta lot of new tricks for ya, baby just saying I’m flexible…..”

⋆｡°✩ NSFW . 18 +

⋆｡°✩ let me know what you think 🫶🏽 😉 thank you so much for the request xx

- would be such a bastard about it

-“heh, think you could lift this leg more or does daddy have to do it for ya?” As he has you pressed down on your mattress, you’re folded in half damn near and all you can do is scoff

- “are you gonna keep talking or do I have to take care of myself- ahhh!” hes quick to shut you up as the tip of his girthy cock bullies your poor cunt.

- Of course he’s always trying to experiment with you, one time he had you bent over in front of him with your hand wrapped around your ankles as he took you from behind.

- your incessant whining only turning him on more as thick calloused hands gripped your waist. slamming you back on his thick length. Your ass bouncing and recoiling with every thrust. His eyes never left down to where you both were connected. A shiver up his spine when he felt your walls clench around him as he slowed down. “fuck…” he was about to bust all up inside of you if you keep throwing it back like you were.

- his all time favorite had to be whenever you rode him cowgirl. You do your usual tricks, ride him in reverse for a while. Hell you even start hitting the splits on it for real.

- but damn did it drive him CRAZY when you leaned all the way back exposing your entire chest to him and your gorgeous neck. His hand would immediately find its way to your exposed neck. His thumb applying just the right amount of pleasure.

- “dirty slut, you like it when I choke you? Answer me” he pulls you closer, his gaze is mean but you pout and nod. Pretty eyes batting at him how could he stay mad at you?

- “yes…“ you locked eyes with him and his first mistake was loosening his grip on you. Because as soon as he was caught off guard your lips slowly wrapped around his thumb.

- oh yeah hes fucked right off the bat.

- toji couldn’t even deny it when he said he was impressed

- the first time he met you you were doing all types of freak shit on top of him. Not to mention how you never complained when he bent you up like a pretzel

- because when you told him “you can press my leg down harder if you want it won’t hurt” you meant that shit and he never wanted to leave the heaven that was your pussy.

- he was pretty sure he was in love with you within the first three weeks of knowing you but of course he would never tell you that

- you already knew whenever he almost let out that he loved you when you had let him full Nelson you into the mattress after a nice dinner out, not to mention you had let him hit it raw

- you swore he almost passed out

- not to mention how much more fun a sex swing was . He was truly living his best life, and you were more than willing to indulge him. You’ve never had a ex fuck you so good

- well one, some white haired douche named gojo you dated in college

- he put it down on you too, but his big dick didn’t make up for his big hesd

-toji was a much more gentler lover if that was even hard to believe , he always checked up on you and made sure you were ok

- “are the ropes too right baby? “ you watched him step back stratching the back of his head. Poor thing was so excited to open the new package that arrived in a nice big Amazon prime box. Way too excited that he inhaled his dinner and was all too willing to dry dishes to get you upstairs and naked.

-“yes toji it feels fine baby, will you relax?”

- “are you sure, you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable right?”

- “duh, I’m not going to say yes if I didn’t feel safe” you feel a cool gust of air as the ac kicks on and your nipples harden.

- your man takes notice and a grin twitches on his lips.

- “Aww I see, my baby is ready for me huh?”

- “always ready for you “ you but your lip and spread your legs a little wider for him. “Do anything for you”

-“ yeah?” He steps close to you, your breath hitched as he towers over you while you lean back on the ropes. Sturdy enough to hold you up Toji made sure of it. His frame blocks the little soft illuminated light.

- god you loved his tall he was

- “yeah…”

- a few minutes later you found yourself being swung back and fourth on his cock. Toji grounding his heels against the carpeted bedroom floor. His rough palms holding onto the rope tightly as he moves you on his cock. As if your some sex doll for his pleasure. Your toes are curling and you can see how lost he is inside your pussy. His jaw is clenched and he looks like a mad man possessed.”

- your shoulder start to ache a little bit due to how your hands are blind behind you. But the pleasure outweighs that entirely.

-“mmmmm! M’gonna come, fuck!” you whine, tossing your head back. His heavy balls slapping against your skin. You feel the band in your stomach snap and your let out another loud moan of his name before your knees are shivering.

- he follows soon after with a loud groan. His hips stutter and he grabs into your tits for some type of stability. heavy thick cum coat your walls and as he rides out both your orgasms it spills out.

- toji was never letting you go

[miaowitch]

Learning Your Lesson (18+)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Read on Ao3 or below!!

M!Whitney the Bully (DOL) / GN! Reader

cw ⋆｡‧˚♡ smut, spanking, name-calling (slut, pet, bitch, etc..), petplay-ish, swearing, Dom/Sub concepts, fingerfucking, ambiguous hole reference for GN posterity

summary ⋆｡‧˚♡

You love your boyfriend, simple as that. Talking to him is a natural want, it's not like you were bothering anyone by telling him about your day. But, it's Whitney we're talking about, so of course you're bothering him. Your punishment is harsh, but it surely comes from a place of care...right?

1.2k words

confession ⋆｡‧˚♡ ;; started playing degrees of lewdity, and accidentally fell in too deep <3 i hope you guys enjoy! i know its not super long, but i really needed to get this one out

You don’t often push him to the limit, but everyone has their breaking point. 

Sure, you’d invited him over to hang out, but that didn’t mean he needed to be in a good mood. Coming over, in his mind, was supposed to be somewhere he could relax without the annoying dicks in his friend group. Sorely, he was mistaken. You were simply excited to have your boyfriend in your room, talking about anything that came across your mind. But Whitney couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 

Lying across Whitney’s lap, you’d been warned so many times before. Pressing his buttons, disobeying his commands. Even if you’d been his little pet, but defiance was a running streak in you. Telling you to shut the fuck up just didn’t work, so he decided it was time to put you in your place. “Now, what did I tell you?” He spoke as the nicotine rolled off his tongue, the cigarette resting in between the fingers placed on the top of your butt.

It was really your fault getting into a situation like this. With your hips bent over his knee, ass perched in the air, with his hand firmly holding you in place by the back of your neck. Vulnerable, you were in the palm of his hand in the most literal sense. “Stop fucking chattering in my damn ear, bitch.” His hand left its place on your neck to grab at your hair with authority. 

You whined his name, a high toned beg for mercy. As if he’d relent. Placing the cigarette back between his lips, he pulled tight at your hair as if it were a warning. A quick slap sounded in your room, his palm making contact with your bare ass. Underwear and shorts pooled at your ankles, writhing at the pain of the harsh sting. 

“C’mon, you’re not even gonna cry?” He sighed, his next slap hitting hard enough to leave a pink blush across the skin. 

“N-No–” You managed to fight back, to his own pleasure. In his jeans, his dick pressed firm against the seam. He wouldn’t give you what he knew you craved. Fucking ungrateful brats don’t get what they want. “Fine.” Flicking his filter-burnt cigarette onto your hardwood, smoke blew out from his nostrils in a huff. If you wanted to be so stubborn, he’d just have to make you cry. 

You managed to take a breath in his moment of deliberation, almost getting too comfortable in the concept of him letting you go before another sharp impact hit. With a swear escaping you, you stifled back the whimpers from the surprise.  “Fuck, Whitney, what the hell…?” Your voice almost moaning out, Whitney’s face heated up. His usual sadistic smile splitting after hitting you for a fourth time, then a fifth. 

Relentless in dealing out pain, it’s not like you weren’t used to his frequent punishments. Whitney was just like this, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even into it. The pain was a little hard to adjust to, but even now, you dripped onto his leg. The sting sending pleasure up your spine, shaking through the sixth hit. It almost felt numb until he quickly cracked down again. His own sick joy spawned from a place of watching you squirm under his touch.

Finally, a cry slipped out. In the middle of taking a shaky breath, his broad hand cracked against your tender skin. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, even trying to fight the feeling seemed to cause more to well up. Fighting it was futile, even Whitney seemed to pity his poor pet. A soft coo escaped him, “Has my slut learned their lesson yet?” He released your hair, petting back your tussled strands that escaped his hands.

Tears managed to creep from their ducts, unwillingly fluttering your lashes to get them out. Moments where Whitney felt the slightest sympathy were rare, but never unwanted. A moan quietly sounding under the affectionate pets. The old desk chair under the two of you creaked in response to Whitney’s legs spreading further, your back stiffening at the feeling.

“Hmm…” His hand moved from your hand, his body jittered with excitement. He wondered how far he’d take it, was he done? He could easily march you out the door and fuck you in the hall for everyone to see, or even on the sidewalk outside. Whitney’s other hand was red from the discipline, but still he rubbed gentle circles into your own imprinted skin. On the other hand, he wanted to keep you to himself, a rare moment of privacy between the two of you. 

With his middle and ring finger, he slipped down your slit. Teasing at your wanting hole, running his dry fingers just lightly over the surface. “P-Please…” You beg, trying to push against the pressure. Stupid fucking desperate whore. The throbbing in his pants was almost enough of a reason to deny you, if he wasn’t giving in, neither would you. Until those sweet begs became more urgent, choking out like sobs. 

Whitney swallowed the painful tension in his throat, a firm ball of desire that goading him into fucking the brains out of you.

After all…you did learn your lesson. And he wasn’t the most unkind master in the world, his special pet needed a reward for taking their spankings so well. His two fingers plunged into your hole without warning, granting mercy for your sweet desire. A low hum of pleasure rose from his chest, watching his fingers pull sticky trails of your cum with each pull out. “God, you’re so fucking nasty..” He spoke quietly to hold in his own moans from breaking out.

Spilling all of his secrets about how much he loved watching you beg for just his fingers to fuck the sense out of you. Secrets that revealed just how happy he was being your boyfriend, being the one guy who you’d willingly fuck yourself stupid for. He wondered if the whole orphanage could hear you begging for more, not that he even cared. Whitney just wanted you to be his dumb pet forever. Without humoring the seriousness of the thought, he focused on pounding his knuckles into your dripping cunt. 

Milking out your orgasm was easy, hooking his fingers inside and circling around to drive you crazy. Your back arching and legs flailing behind you. Whitney bit at his lip, watching the sweat beading on your back. Pulling his fingers from your gasping hole, he wrapped his hand around to make you clean the white slick off his fingers.

Gratefully, you sucked. As if it was a treat for letting him fuck you out. Your eyes looking up at him as he towered, thanking him without saying a single thing. Whitney knows just how hard you work to keep him happy, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to play a little more with his favorite slut.

“Get on the bed, bitch.” He smiled, detaching his fingers from your mouth with a soft pop. Happily unbuttoning his jeans as you scurried onto the bed, not wanting to disobey him anymore than you already have. 

Whitney wouldn’t have it any other way.

[that-tmr-girl]

Staring

When Aris keeps catching you staring he teases you until you can't take it.

Fingering, oral, face riding, thigh riding, vaginal sex

It's adorable. She's adorable. I mean Y/N is just so cute when she thinks I don't see her looking at me through the corner of her eye before dropping her gaze to the ground as her cheeks turned red.

I also knew exactly what that meant, and even better, I knew that she wouldn't say it. So I used this to my advantage and teased the hell out of her.

So far I had brushed my fingers over her waist and ass while moving past her, stretched just enough for shirt to slide up to show her my lower abdomen, put my arms above my head and leaned from the doorframe while talking to her, shamelessly stared at her chest before lying about not knowing what she was talking about, licked my lips while staring at her, and pretended I didn't know that my hand has moved from her thigh to her clothed pussy while I was still rubbing my hands up and down her.

She'd cave eventually. She always does, and that's my favorite part of this. The build up of it all before I’m inside of her. All because of some sweet, little, things. Just some absolutely pure affection.

My damn, I was having fun with this. I always do, but she was stubborn. Way too stubborn, but that just made it better.

In a completely innocent act of love, I grabbed her by her belt loops when nobody was around and pushed her against me. Cupping her face, I connected our lips before my hands just accidentally ended up on her ass. I also definitely didn't mean to grind on her while making out. I’m just not the type of person to do something like that. It’d be just mean to make her beg and feign surprise if I ended up inside of her. It’d just be a happy, little accident.

“Damnit Aris, stop that,”She complained.

“Stop what?”I asked, trailing my hands up her spine before pulling at her bra straps.

“That. Stop teasing.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I never tease you,”I sighed, putting my lips on her jaw and making my way to the corner of her mouth. With an impatient whine, she threw her head back.

“Can you please just rail me already?”She groaned.

“What? I couldn't hear you. I was busy giving you hickeys,”I shrugged, waiting for her to say it.

“Stop teasing, and just-”

Cutting her off, I pressed my lips against hers, muffling her pleas to be mindlessly fucked. Pushing my tongue past her parted lips, things were almost messy as our spit mixed. Putting my hands all over her, I went from the back of her neck to her outer thighs. Moaning into my mouth, she put one of my hands on her inner thighs. Pulling away, I picked her up and wrapped her legs around my waist. Pushing her against the wall, I kissed her neck as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

“Come on, princess. I'll give you exactly what you need,”I promised, keeping her legs around me as I opened our backdoor. Immediately in our bedroom, I closed the door and threw her on the bed. Straddling her, I started sucking and nibbling her on neck while my hands were on her hips. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, I pulled apart and effortlessly tossed it off. Pushing her against the bedframe, I kept my lips against hers as I unhooked her bra. Pulling apart to take that off too, I started sucking on her nipple while pinching the other. Hearing her let out a needy whimper, I kissed to the middle of her chest before trailing my tongue down her stomach, stopping every now and then to suck on her skin. Coming to her jeans, I unbuttoned them before pulling them to her ankles. Staring at her, I just took in her features until she covered her stomach.

“No,”I said firmly, pulling her hands away.

“Aris-”

“I want to look at my girl. I want to see you squirm when I ride you. I want to see you throw your head back when you're close. I want to see you not even know how to keep your eyes open when I make you feel good. I want to see you bite your lip to muffle your sounds. I want to see all those pretty marks on your skin. I need to see everything I can do to my girl,”I listed, keeping her hands to her side. When she gave me a nod I let go and pressed kisses to her lower stomach before working my way to the hem of her panties. Hooking my fingers around them, I slowly pulled them off before wrapping my hands around her ankles and keeping her legs apart.

“You're just my pretty girl, aren't you?”I promised, tracing my fingers between her slit. Looking at her arch her back, I put a finger in and started pumping as I felt her drip on my hand. Staring up at her, I watched her chest start to quickly rise and fall as I teased her.

Gently pulling her legs down, I buried my head in her soaked pussy while moving my hands up her body. While flicking my tongue against her clit I put her breasts in my palm, squeezing her nipples just enough as I plunged my tongue inside of her. Repeatedly going in and out, I hummed before keeping my tongue inside of her soaked pussy, swirling it around her walls. With her sweet little noises encouraging me, I started flicking my tongue against her clit again, before moving my hands and grabbing her thighs. Wrapping them around my head, I moaned inside of her as she tugged on my hair. Giving her another sloppy lick, I tightened my grip on her legs as she pushed her hips deeper into my mouth. Hearing her let out her special sound, I moaned into her. Arching her back one last time, she came. Not letting go of her legs, I lapped up all her juices. Only when I felt her shake did I pull away. Spreading her legs though, I licked her inner thighs before nibbling on her skin. With a half pain half pleasured moan, she raked her nails down my neck until I pulled away. Tracing the soon to be bruises, I pressed a light kiss to them before meeting her gaze.

Pulling my shirt off, as I got on top I didn't let her know my next move. I never do.

“Ride my face, princess. Ride my tongue until you cum in my mouth,”I whispered in her ear, keeping my hands on her waist. Feeling hers travel to her stomach, probably without even realizing, I pulled them away again. “Don't worry about a thing, princess. Just relax, and sit on my face,”I urged. When she gave me a nod I flipped us over so that she was sitting on my stomach. Putting my head on the pillow, I helped her over my mouth.

Still, feeling the way she was holding back, I grabbed her hips and forced her further into me. Plunging my tongue inside of her, I felt her drip as she rocked herself against me. Tracing my tongue between her pussy lips, I listened to her muffled sounds as she kept her thighs around my head. Growing wetter, she rocked herself against me as I helped her increase her pace. With a pretty, high pitched whimper, she rested her pussy on me as she released. Tasting her, when she tried to pull away before I was done I grabbed her waist and got more. Because every last drop of her needs to be in my throat, on my thigh when she rides them, or on my cock. Maybe around the rest of my face if she's extra wet, but that's it. None of her cum is allowed to stay inside of her. Not when I'm here to make her feel nice.

When I did get all of her, I helped her off. Seeing the way she collapsed, I stroked her hair before she put her hands on my jeans. Taking them off for her, when she attempted to take off the rest of my clothes I grabbed her wrist and shook my head no. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I gestured for her to get off on my thigh. As she agreed and straddled me I put her where she belonged. Putting her arms around my shoulders, I kept my hands on her back as I let her go at whatever pace she wanted.

With soft moans by my ear, she did as I said. Choosing a desperate speed, she frantically grinded on my bare leg as I sang soft praises to her. Telling her how pretty she is, telling her how nice she sounds, how sweet my princess is, and everything that came to mind. With those words pushing her over the edge, when I told her how much of my good girl she is she sunk her teeth into my neck to stifle her screams as she came. Pulling away, as I saw those tears of overstimulation in her dazed, happy eyes, I kissed the tip of her nose before looking at her sweet smile. Pressing my lips against hers, when she cupped my face I leaned back so she was on top of me. Before she could react I flipped us around so that I was and kissed all over her neck and chest and jaw and temple and cheek and lips and anywhere that I could get to.

“You think you can take one more round?”I whispered near her ear. When she gave me an eager nod I took off my boxers and aligned myself with her entrance. Gently pushing into her, I waited for her to adjust. Closing her eyes, her breathing got raspy.

“You're okay, princess. You can take me. You always do,”I repeated, waiting for her to tell me to go. After she gave me a small nod I made her give me a verbal answer anyway. Through more heavy breaths she told me yes.

Pulling out, I slammed back into her with a grunt making her let out more whimpers. Crashing my lips against hers, I groaned into her open mouth as she moaned into mine. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I made my way deeper inside of her. Digging her nails into my skin, I savored the way she dragged them down my back, leaving deep scratches. Letting her do whatever she wanted, I bit her neck and listened to those special sounds as her walls clenched around me. Throwing her head back, I heard her scream my name before biting her lip to quiet her sounds. Feeling my thrusts get sloppy, when I twitched inside of her I only got more desperate. With another strangled scream she let go. Pushing myself into her one last time, I came inside of her. Letting her legs drop from my waist, I filled her up until I was spilling out of her. Only then did I pull out.

“Are you okay, princess?”I checked. Nodding her head, her eyes were only half open as she caught her breath. “My sweet girl,”I whispered, kissing her temple before getting off. Mumbling something, she grabbed my wrist and shook her head no.

“I'm just going to clean you off, okay? I’ll be right back,”I promised. Giving a halfhearted nod, she laid on her back.

Grabbing a rag from our bathroom, I wet it before walking back to wipe her thighs and stomach that were completely coated in white liquids. Letting out another relieved sigh, she then let me dress her in some fresh underwear, nightpants, and one of my hoodies. Wrapping it around her, I admired how comfortable and safe she looked before quickly dressing myself and laying beside her. Grabbing the book from my nightstand, I put my arm around her as she snuggled up to my chest, reading to her until she fell into a deep sleep.

[sin-sidejob]

Hello,how are you doing?

May I request some pillow Princess reagan x reader smut?

National Girlfriend Day

Pairing: Reagan Ridley x GN / AFAB Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI - smut, doggystyle fucking, reader wears a strap, mentions of assplay, spitting, fingering, cumplay, reader calls Reagan "Good Girl, Pretty, Princess, Baby" and literally talks to her pussy. Gender unspecified for reader with no body description beyond wearing a strap-on.

Contents: smut, aftercare, use of sex toys/strap-on, Pillow Princess Reagan + my requests were closed when this was submitted but today's National Girlfriend Day, and who better to celebrate it than baby girl Reagan Ridley? length: 3k dividers by: @/saradika-graphics & @/cafekitsune

She's got no clue about today.

It was easy to plan around Reagan’s schedule and know she’d have no idea about what day it was or what you had even planned by the time her worn sneakers treaded over the unwelcome mat and into your shared home. 

And just like you expected, she’s too busy marveling over how clean everything is and how you actually managed to get the stains out of her diploma that she doesn't catch you lingering in the kitchen doorway and how your gaze is heady enough to know any meal tonight won’t be comprised of food. 

You’d already heard of her bad day at work, dealing with the tedious items on her itinerary as always and managed to order her dinner delivery to work so she wouldn’t starve and overwork herself until she came home later. It allowed you more time to make sure you could take care of her as she deserved, and it makes it all worth it the second her eyes land on you and she give you that crooked smile you’ve fallen in love with. 

“You cleaned all this?” 

Her arms coil around your waist as she looks over your face, the tiredness still there around her eyes but it eases as you brush a few stray hairs off her forehead and back to the side of her bangs, blending into her ponytail. She’s beautiful, stained labcoat and all, and you’re thrumming with excitement already to show your adoration through forcibly erasing her bad day with a good ending. 

“Mhm, wanted to give you something nice to come home to. Kept me busy from missin’ you too much,” you murmur, leaning to kiss at her jaw and cheek, lowering to her neck as you feel her breath hitch and the nervous laugh let out as she splays a palm over your back. 

“My you’re eager.” 

She marvels as you pull back and grin, eyes already half-lidded as you smooth your hands over her waist and beneath the hem to glide over the smooth skin of her stomach. “Just wanna’ show you how much I love ya’, been needin’ you all damn day princess.” 

Shuddering, she knows she’s in for it with that term of endearment passing your lips, the dynamic already set now as she processes that she’s about to be fucked out real quick and real soon. You take her hand in yours as you smooth the other up her spine and she knocks her nose into yours before kissing you messily. 

“Nngh, take me to bed already,” Reagan murmurs, having pulled back enough to catch your kiss-bitten lips and the utter lust in your eyes. You oblige, leading her upstairs to the bedroom before you work on undressing her, letting her undo her shoes as you shred yourself of your top and pants, clad in a pair of undershorts and a harness she recognizes immediately. 

Swallowing, she eyes you up and down before you crowd her against the bed and mouth at her neck while you help her shimmy out of her pants, pulling off her socks with reverence as you kiss her ankle while she quickly strips off her shirt and bra, panting already. 

You tilt your head in the direction towards the further end of the bed, at the headboard where the pillows lie, and Reagan immediately backs herself against them as you lay on your belly between her parted thighs and make yourself comfortable as you kiss between the ticklish skin of her legs. 

She jerks with a particular nip at the inner thigh and you catch her leg in your grip, easing it over your shoulder as you sidle up and kiss at her panties, the center already soaked through visibly with her wetness and you whistle as you pull them to the side, exposing her glistening cunt and how she clenches around nothing the second you blow a little air over her hooded clit, relishing in watching her squirm. 

“Don’t be a tease. Please go ‘head and move.” 

Tutting, you send her a look while you lift her other thigh over your shoulder, hands dragging her waist closer to your face as you inhale her cunt, grossly sniffing at her clit in a manner that has Reagan’s hands covering her face before you kiss tenderly at her labia, tracing your tongue down to her weeping slit and delving in, wriggling the muscle of your tongue against her walls as she begins to whine her hips against your face. Her hand clutches at your scalp as you let her use your mouth to get off, humming as you curl your tongue upwards and inhale through your nose, surrounded by the musk of her and sweat and the bergamot of her perfume. 

You’d happily choke on it, and on her, but its a day about pleasing her so your death can wait. 

Breaching up, slick strands cling to your chin as you press your cheek to her thigh, your hand quelling her brief protests as you ease your two middle digits into the molten heat of her cunt and curl upwards, hitting that g-spot with precision that sends her arching, clutching at your head still and reaching back to white-knuckle the headrest. 

“Feelin’ good princess? Want more?” 

She’s nodding, eyes clamped shut as she wriggles her hips forward in stuttered bucking motions to fuck herself against your hand, wanting and needing more to get that orgasm curling in her abdomen to release. “Need your mouth, want your teeth please.” 

Obliging, you nose at her clit and lick beneath the hood to openly suckle at the bundle of nerves, laughing against her as she lifts her hips off the bed against your mouth once you begin curling your fingers and sucking softly between grazes of your teeth to the sensitive skin around her clit. 

Reagan’s desperate now, the sweat creating a sheen on her skin, and she catches your eyes when she looks down only to have hers roll back once you scissor your fingers and lap at her clit with a sloppy tongue, sending her creaming. 

Your mouth lowers to where your fingers retract, lapping up all the wetness she leaks and cleaning her up idly until shes patting at your shoulders, whining from overstimulation and dragging you back up into her arms so she can kiss you, moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue. 

Her hands clutch at your head and neck, wetly making out until she can’t breathe and you take the opportunity to rise, leaving her only for a moment to grab the toy she and you both have been waiting for, slipping the dildo through the harness before crawling back onto bed as Reagan makes you pause. 

“Can we try what you showed me last week?” 

Thinking back, you nearly moan at the thought and nod, already guiding Reagan onto her belly with her ass arched high as you settle behind her, fingers slicking back between her drenched folds to fuck her cunt, making her whine as she lowers her face to the bed below. 

“That’s it baby, keep that arch f’me. Gonna’ make you feel real good.”

You make good on that shortly, getting her close to cumming again as you stretch her out enough to take your strap well if not with ease. You might like to see her cry, but you don’t want to see her in pain. By the time you pull your fingers out from her tight pussy, she's whining and already wiggling her ass back for something to replace the stimulation, missing the feeling. 

Reagan’s nearly dumb and drooling already, uncaring of how she looks now by the time you press down at the bottom of her spine, forcing her back into a sinful arch as her cheek smudges against the silky pillows to watch as you brace her thighs outside yours and fondle her ass cheeks. 

You let out an audible tch in amusement at reading her tattoo again, the scrawl of the text reading Mommy Likey Drinky making you audibly chuckle, thinking about how she really does like to drink from you when she's especially frustrated and in need of a good meal. She eats pussy like a menace, you’re a bit kinder but you’ll give the credit where it's due. 

Leaning forward, you crowd her against the bed and press her further into the sheets, your strap wedging between her thighs as you feel her rock her ass back, lifting her head to look back at you. “Gonna’ be a good girl f’me? Let me fuck you stupid and drive all those thoughts out as you lay back and let me do the work?”

Reagan is nodding before you even finish but finds herself groaning as she rocks her hips back and finds friction at the hood of her clit, just enough to send her trembling and begging with need as your hands smooth over her ribs and over the globe of her ass. 

“Please, need it bad — I’ll be so good, gonna’ be so good for youohhh fuuck.” 

You’ve gripped the base in hand and slid the silicone between her lips, watching the pooling sheen of her slick soak the strap to the point that when you pull back, webs of dewy precum cling between her pussy and your strap. 

Christ you should’ve celebrated this sooner. 

Reagan’s hands fist into the sheets and pillows as she firthers the arch in her back, feeling it burn almost in those divots near her backside until you plant your hands over her lower waist, thumbs pressing deliciously into the knots and nerves of her lower spine as she whines. 

“So worked up baby and ‘m not even in’ya yet,” you’re half mocking and half marveling at how her thighs stand taut as you pry her asscheeks apart, hearing her hiss as the cold air hits her puckered hole. Just to be a bit mean, you gather spit in your mouth, spitting it with an audible hawk-tuah! As you aim it on her asshole, grinning as she writhes against you while it drips down, soaking the back of her while you bring your strap back into your hand. 

“Quit fussin’, I’m just hitting it from the back princess, we’re not trying that today. 

“Fuckin’ better,” she growls before sending back a half-hearted glower at you over her shoulder that has you cooing and pressing your front to her back, feeling the sheen of sweat over her skin already as you nose at her neck, pressing a few adoring kisses there as you linger. 

“S’okay baby, we can save that for our anniversary.”

Before she can mouth off another smart comment, you’re parting her labia back with a hand sprawling across her cunny and back half of her asscheek while the other wraps around the silicone base, maneuvering the cockhead to smear wetly against her clit. 

You chuckle as you circle the attention there, watching as her back muscles tremor before you pat her tramp stamp affectionately as you hold onto her ass to keep her planted as you ease the mushroom-tip of the pretty pink dildo into her cunt, letting out lines of sugary-sweet praise as you ease in inch by inch. 

“Hah-fuck, r-right there.”

You grind your hips in a sideways infinity, shifting left and right to grind against her g-spot slow and steady to send her warbling your name into the pillow now tugged to her face, hiding majority of her expression besides the blissed out curl of her lip and the furrow of her dark brows. 

Reaching back, you snag your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and snap a picture of her as she is now, already blissed out and arching as if trying to get closer to a god while stretched-halfway around your cock. You toss it aside the second she stutters her hips backwards and reaches a hand back, immediately receiving your hand in hers as she clutches it, squeezing the palm while she writhes and feels her bared tits brush and drag against the sheets to a point that the taut points of her nipples only add to the pleasure coursing, thrumming through her veins like a drug. 

She barely has to do a thing but let you hold onto her as she holds your hand, your grip strong at her hip bone while you ease the strap in further, noting the heady sigh of relief when you knock at her cervix Reagan lets out as she squeezes your hand. You slow, smoothing your hand over her back, tracing the lettering on her tattoo as you wait for her to let you know when to move. 

For now, you rub over her sweat-damp skin and check in with her, getting a thumbs up and a verbal green light after a minute passes, allowing you to pull back your hips and ease the strap out, hearing her cunt squelch as if missing you already, and take you back in as you shift forward. 

You snake your arm around her belly as you crowd her a bit, hand now at her lower pelvis and going past the curls of her bush to her clit and thumbing it slowly, matching the pulses of her nerves as you gradually increase the pace in your thrusts, her thighs now propped up over your own that keep her steady. 

“How’s this feelin’? Good?” 

She can barely tilt her head to meet your gaze but manages to catch your eye as she moans low once you match the pace of your hand, pressing upward against the bulge of your strap now plunging her guts, her lips parted wetly. “M’fuckin’ great — k-keep going.”

Grinning, you lean over and nip at her shoulder and then down her back while you pick up the pace, pressing her belly upward to hold her upright as you bring her hips back into yours as you thrust them forward, the sheen of her arousal now forming a creamy ring at the base of your strap and soaking the harness fabric close to the fake balls that smack at her puffy lips, nearly meeting your fingers as you roll and press at her clit, easing between faster and slower paces. 

Her pussy is lewdly squelching, the drench of her cunt sounding loud every time you shift back and forth and you can’t help but chuckle darkly as you rock Reagan’s waist back towards your pistoning hips with abandon. “Hear that baby? Even your pretty pussy’s cryin’ for me. Needed me real bad, huh?” 

Nodding, she feels like she’s about to cry but also bust apart at the seams any second with the pressure careening through her lower abdomen. Its a heavy pressure than sends her gushing around you and anticipating an orgasm that’ll make her near blackout, and her legs are close to giving out as they recline against yours at the thought of how close she is to release. “Think m’gonna c-cum.” 

“Y’close baby? I gotcha’ just ease into it f’me.” 

Gritting your teeth, you grind your hips in a circling motion every time you bottom out after lifting your hips back, making Reagan tremble beneath you as you wrench out an orgasm that you drag out, kissing at her skin as you ease off her clit and fuck her on your strap until she deflates fully onto the bed with a sated mewl, allowing you to pull out and see the small gush of wetness pool forth onto the sheets 

Undoing the clasps on the strap, you toss it to the side as you crawl up the bed to lie beside Reagan who sleepily opens her eyes to stare at you once you brush a few strands of her hair back, lifting her cheek to press into your palm as she sighs happily. 

“How’s that head?”

“No complaints yet,” 

She giggles softly, more of a snicker but she’s too out of breath, and you raise a brow. “Head’s empty. Water and a washcloth?” 

A brief kiss to her dewy forehead is left before you go and slip into the ensuite bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water after filling a glass kept beneath the sink with cold water, returning quickly to find she’s nearly asleep with her ass still somewhat perched in the air. 

You glance at your phone but decide against another photo as you near, easing reagan onto her back so she can sit up and sip at the water while you part her thighs and dutifully clean up, being extra tender and leaving kisses behind as you wipe between her folds and pull back her hooded clit. 

“There, all done, you just gotta’ hit the bathroom then you can sleep.” 

You shrug on an oversized muscle tee and some baggy sleep shorts before easing Reagan into a soft bralette and a pair of boxers before taking the strap up to the bathroom to clean it in the morning. “You’ll have to carry me there.”

Reagan can’t help but laugh at your grin from the offer, always enjoying taking care of her, especially as you smile against her mouth once you crawl back onto the bedsheets you both can’t be bothered to change until the morning. 

“C’mon pretty girl, bathroom then bed.” 

Reagan fails to hide the smile that forms as she raises her arms for you to help carry her to the bathroom, her legs aching and unsteady from being bent over like that with her arched spine a workout all of its own. 

She settles over the toilet as you move to brush your teeth as she goes, long having passed the personal bubbles and sharing intimacy in all matters. Cleaning up, Reagan is bumping her hip into yours by the time she’s washing her hands when you spit out the minty foam of your toothpaste. 

It isn’t until minutes later, when she’s curled up in your arms as your legs entangle, that she kisses at your shoulder while you card your hand through the hair that splays over her shoulder. 

“Feelin’ loved?” 

She’s blinking in the dark, close enough to see you and how you’re genuinely asking, and she hums, her hand tapping at your waist as she nudges closer. “Very.” 

“Good,” You finally let rest seep into your bones with that, lifting the dirtied sheets over yourself and the blanket beneath over your entwined bodies before you let your breaths even, 

"Happy Girlfriend’s Day, baby.” 

MASTERLIST | PROMPTS | SONG PROMPTS | NAVIGATION

© sin-sidejob 2024 — All the written content property of @/sin-sidejob is not open to translations, repostings, or plagiarism which are not tolerated.

[maz1e]

prologue 2 — nefarious.

#. synopsis! — nemuri and hizashi paid a visit to a young girl .

#. characters! — villain akumu , kazehana , midnight(kayama nemuri) , present mic(yamada hizashi) , unnamed staff.

#. warnings! — bnha x oc , talks about trauma , ooc , personal headcannons .

#. word count! — 757 .

#. masterlist!

“i can’t believe this kid is the villain akumu.” said a worker as they stared at the surveillance video in front of them. they were tasked to watch over his containment cell in case something terrible happens. knowing akumu, he’s unpredictable.

“i know right, it’s scary nowadays, criminals are everywhere. may it be a child or an old person.” another one spoke out, shivers running down their spine at the thought of villains.

on the other side, akumu sighs heavily, chains on both wrists and ankles. his neck was itchy, and so is every part of his body. despite his calm demeanour, he was panicking upon seeing midnight as one of the heroes who personally arrested him and took him to this cell. his ears were ringing due to the constant quietness of the room and rattling the chains wasn’t helping the problem. he needed to escape this damn prison room because in the past 48 hours no heroes have visited him and asked him stupid questions and with midnight in the picture, she might’ve recognised him and kazehana.

it was like history repeating itself.

the two heroes who were dispatched; present mic and midnight are walking up to an apartment complex in their civilian clothes. they thought its best to approach as a civilian.

“nemuri, i’m kinda worried about this, shouldn’t we at least brought back up?” hizashi says, he was more worried about kazehana seeing how this neighbourhood is full of lowly villains and if they were ambushed right away, kazehana might get injured, or even worse, get killed in the crossfire.

“kazehana might not speak with us if she sees a crowd of heroes, when i last met her, she was careful, she took random turns just in case we were being followed. this young girl is smart.” says nemuri. “i’m worried too hizashi but there’s no other way we can bring her in by her own will.” she then took the step up the metal stairs. she was slightly annoyed how these stairs look unstable.

she sighs, worry clouding her mind again, she remembered how kazehana talked to her about her older sibling. she made him sound like a saint. when she actually met him, no one would suspect that this kid— this kid who takes care of his sister alone and is loved by people around him be a vicious villain. they had more than one encounter, nemuri saw how he was loved by everyone. nobody would suspect him. not even nemuri suspected anything wrong.

“room 422.” said hizashi.

nemuri sighs as she knocked twice on the door as everything went quiet except for the obvious sizzling inside this house and the news on t.v practically on blast. but no one was answering.

she tries again. she knocked 2 times and spoke loudly. “kazehana? it’s me nemuri-onee-san!” with those words, she heard loud running as the store was slammed open, on the other side, kazehana was smiling brightly, she was even prettier than before even hizashi was dumbfounded. what a glow-up at such a young age.

she looked exactly the same as akumu, with some differences of course but the facial features, the eyes, and even the hair look exactly the same.

“onee-chan!-” she says, excited to see nemuri again but she saw someone else which caused her to slam the door shut from fear.

“hana-chan? is everything okay?” nemuri asks as she looked at hizashi worriedly.

“nee-san, who is that.. were you followed? should i call onii-chan..?” she says, her hands slightly shaking from the traumatic memories, wanting to press the call button but then—

“hana-chan, gomen— onee-chan isn’t being followed.” nemuri squatted down, she kind of forgot how kazehana reacts to strangers. “this is hizashi-onii-chan and he is my friend!” she says cheerfully as kazehana slowly opens the door to look at the blond. he seems kind. his blond hair was in a bun and he wore a black jacket. she immediately hugged nemuri and has no intention of letting go. she was protective over her as the two adults practically melted under her glare, nemuri was the first one to crack and hizashi followed. the air was filled with laughter.

akumu was woken up in his deep slumber, his heart felt heavy, and started to throb with each beat. he knew something was wrong— he knew it— his eyes latched onto the wall clock as he read the time.

9:44.

“fuck.” he said. the first words he said being in this hellhole were fuck.

“they found her.”

previous | next

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Discipline ||

Pairing: Matt Murdock X F!Reader

Rating: E 18+ no minors

Tags/warnings: shibari rope bondage (aw hells yeah), oral sex (m and f), unprotected sex (bag it up kids!), Sub Matt, edging, slight overstimulation, slight breeding kink, cream pie (yum!).

A/n: okay my lovelies here it is, sorry it took so long but this is the full length continuation of my small drabble Discipline. I couldn't and cannot stop imagining Matt all prettily tied up in rope to teach him a little lesson in having some restraint (literally?). Anyway hope it's enjoyable!

When the last end is wrapped and tucked, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to touch your completed work, to sink into it and feel it in the way that he might. Starting at the top, your fingers trail light and slow, the skin underneath them warm and taut, the muscles twitching at your touch, at the strain. Your tongue swipes to wet your lips as you reach the bump of the first knot. The twist of the fibres flow and bind together like a nest of snakes, the softness of the silk a counterpoint to the strength that it possessed and also held contained. You continued, following the pattern of shivering skin, another knot, skin, knot... skin...

All the way down.

You open your eyes. His breath is shallow now, he's been so patient.

"You're doing so well Matty," you tell him, pushing yourself up off the bed and taking a few steps back so can fully admire the scene set before you.

The red rope began looped around his neck, crisscrossing at the top of his spine and wrapping around his chest and back multiple times to form an intricate knotted harness. It continues around his lower half, separating at his hips then coiling and knotting around both of his thick thighs allowing them to spread wide as he sat on his heels. His feet are bound at the ankles, a simple but neat wrap, unlike the creation that adorned his arms. You had pulled them behind his back, folded across it, forearms running parallel together and frozen in position with a column of knots running down from the back of his neck to his wrists like a second spine. There it tethered to the harness at the small of his back allowing you the unrestricted view of the double lengths of rope artfully framing that gorgeous peach of an ass, before snaking back forward between his legs.

You bite down on your lip. He wears it so well.

His head was down, occasionally tilting as he listens for you, waiting.

You walk around to the foot of the bed where he's currently facing.

"Oh Matt... you look so good baby," your eyes fall down his body to where his cock hangs; hard, heavy and weeping, "...so good."

He'd been hard since the moment you took the ropes in your hands. It was something he'd wanted, or rather needed for some time, but although you always usually talked things out he didn't know how to ask for it. Until that night.

When he'd finally found the courage to explain to you how he felt it was as if you'd subconsciously just known. Even although you'd suggested tying him down as a throwaway comment, almost a joke, you had immediately zoned in on his interest, his vulnerability, and he wanted you to have it.

He groans as you twist your fingers in his hair, tipping his head up and back.

"Shhh, it's okay," you soothe, stroking through the strands. You could see him finally testing the confines of his restraints, mesmerised at how his muscles shudder against those pretty red lines. His cock twitches as he inhales the scent of your arousal. It was pouring off you and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Can't touch you, can't taste you... it's worse than he could ever imagine. He was so used to taking care of you, giving you anything and everything you needed, and now you were doing this for him. He's so deeply in love he was drowning. Who needs air anyway?

He pushes against the hand that's still on his head, the only other stimulation available to him, whining pitifully when you draw it away.

"Sweetie....please."

You tsk a little at him. "C'mon now, calm down. You know I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?"

His eyes dart as he approximates where you are. "Of course I trust you, I just-"

You climb onto the bed behind him, giving him a firm but gentle shove between the shoulder blades that pitched him face down into the quilt with a huff.

"There you go baby," you purr, running your fingers down his lower back to his backside. "showing that pretty ass for me?" You smack him hard on the right cheek and his entire body jolts. He moans as you kiss and then bite down on the pink mark you've made, captive and helpless against your teasing. "You taste as good as you look," you purr, smoothing your lips over the bite and making him whimper as you flick your tongue over him tasting his skin, your hands tangling into the ropes around the sides of his muscular thighs, holding him tight as you suddenly lick him from behind his balls and all the way up between his ass cheeks, tonguing at his hole.

His loud moans spill into the comforter, you pull him back on your mouth as he struggles to stay still and the muffled gasps just keep coming.

"Good boy," You say, a sob wracking its way out as you laved your tongue over him again, "such a good boy."

Matt groans in protest as you slow and stop, taking hold of the line of vertical knots and helping pull him back up to sitting. He's panting heavily, a small wet patch on the sheets beneath him.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart..." He's pleading already and you smile, shaking your head softly.

"We're just getting started my love. But don't forget what this is about, hmm?"

He felt like he was on fire, his nerves already fried from the constant drone of stimulation of the ropes pressing into his skin, from your mouth and your hands and your wicked tongue... from the anticipation of what might come next. You were in control.

Your voice sounds like it's underwater when you ask if he's okay. He nods absently, his eyes half-lidded as you press your naked body against his back and bound arms, his fingers flex trying to touch your skin as you brush your lips just below his ear. He swallows, your scent still catching thick like honey in his throat and getting stronger by the second as your hands slide around to his chest, your nails dragging over his nipples. You tease and play with his body, avoiding his cock for now which only serves to make him even more painfully hard as your fingers dip into the frames created by the crisscross of the rope. His skin feels hot to the touch as you trace over the myriad of scars that are almost entirely etched into the precious map held in your own mind.

You crawl around to his front, placing your hands on his thighs with your fingertips brushing over the ropes that bind them and lean forward, your lips just a hair's distance from his. You're always in awe of how worked up he can get, and love to see how far you can push him before he really starts begging.

Matt licks his lips, parting them a little way and you know he's desperate to feel your mouth on his, to get more, something, anything from you. But he's stubborn too, even a tiny bit prideful sometimes. It's not that he's in competition with you, it's more of a challenge against himself, to see how long he could last each time he's at your mercy. Being the good Catholic boy he is it's his penance in a way, atoning for all those repeated heavenly sins you commit together. And he'll happily pay the penalty a thousand times over if he gets to feel you from the inside again and again.

He wonders if he's made a mistake this time, your hands are still resting on his thighs as you stay right where you are, only sharing breath with him as the seconds seem to stretch on and on.

And then you start talking.

"Baby, you're dripping," you whisper, gazing at his gorgeous cock that's shining with precum, "you're almost wetter than I am and I know you can tell just how wet that is..."

He groans, pulling at the ropes, biceps straining as he senses you running your hands down over your body, goosebumps rising as you trail them all the way from your neck, over your breasts and down your belly to between your legs.

"You want to taste me, don't you Matthew?"

His cock jumps at you using his full name and he whines as your fingers slip further down to tease yourself just a little.

He swallows, "god yes angel I want to, you know I do... please."

Your other hand curls around the rope looping just under the dip of his throat, holding him by it as you bring your glistening fingertips to his lips.

The moan he makes as he licks and sucks off the taste of you is pornographic.

"Sweetheart, please, let me taste your pussy, let me make you come." he growls softly at you, tongue swiping every last trace of you from his lips and how you can't not take pity when he asks you so sweetly?

You stand up on the bed, feet on either side of his folded legs as he still kneels, waiting, your pussy within striking distance of his mouth.

"C'mon Matty, show me how much you want it."

He acts like he's been starved of you. You may have had sex the other day but now he's tied up, he's on you in a blink and devouring your cunt like he's had to crawl for days across vast swathes of a world without water and you're the only source. You're hardly complaining, almost struggling to stay standing over him as he buries his face between your thighs, eagerly lapping up your slick, twisting and flicking his tongue over your clit even more creatively than usual because he can't touch you with his hands. Despite that he's quick to get you worked up, your hands holding his head, fingers grasping his hair to stay balanced as you help anchor him to you. His unfettered moans of bliss as he gets drunk on the essence of you vibrate right to your core, pulling, tugging and teasing at that coiled tension that's awakened deep within. His fingers twitch behind his back, he's aching now that he can't push them inside you and stroke that plush spot that makes you scream and gush around him. All he's got is his tongue and his lips to worship you, urging and pleading for your pleasure. He wants it over him, needs the taste of you suffocating him, and the rising pitch of your moans lets him know he'll get it.

You look down at him and he knows, because those deep hazel eyes are fluttering shut as he brings you right to your edge.

"God Matt...f- fuck!" He's got you, locking his wet lips around your swollen clit and sucking hard. A wordless cry is music to his sensitive ears as you shake, grinding against his mouth as you come apart for him and he doesn't stop, plunging his tongue inside your pussy feeling your flutter and pulse in the most intimate way before he's back to hungrily lapping hard over your clit. He takes everything you have to give as you ride out the white hot burst of pleasure that flows through you as long as possible until you're pushing him by the shoulders to make him stop because it's too much.

"You taste so good." he groans. He's cheeky, addicted, craning his neck to kiss at your clit even as you're gasping and moving away. You could easily come again and he knows that too. It's so damn difficult to resist when he's looking the way he is, the lower half of his face slick with your arousal, his tongue darting out to savour it as he pants, eyes heavy lidded because he's utterly wasted on you, but you've got plans...

"Mmh where're you going sweetheart?" He drowsily inquires as you drop down on the bed landing softly on your knees in front of him.

"You know where, Murdock." You smirk, as you dip down between his legs and get settled. He inhales sharply as you take his erect cock in your hand, and trail your tongue slowly over the soft skin from the base, following the thick vein all the way to the head.

You hum as you flick your tongue over his frenulum and he groans so deep as you finally take him fully in your hot wet mouth, tasting just how turned on he is. You work him agonisingly slowly, hand stroking what you can't reach, twisting a little as you repeatedly pull up and suck and lick over the throbbing head of his cock. There isn't much he can do bound up at your mercy, but he still has to hold himself back, his hips twitch as you take him a little deeper each time. His eyes flutter closed as your other hand cups his balls, massaging and gently tugging at them as your tongue laps and swirls up and over his length, your lips suck and your fingers glide, and the heat's building steadily at the base of his spine. He's been yearning for this since you tied the first knot and the way you're going he's sure to combust in no time.

"Angel, feels so fucking good,"

Your tongue swipes right over his slit and he shudders and groans low, then you pull away, a thin string of spit still connecting you to him. Matt hears when it snaps.

"What's that sweetie, want me to stop?"

You're only teasing but Matt chokes out a pleading whimper all the same, it quickly morphs into a deliciously satisfying feral moan as you take him back in your mouth again, and it affects you just as much. He's got you dripping wet as you take his cock as deep as you can, fucking him into your throat faster this time.

Your eyes flick up as you feel him pulling at the ropes again, they're tied securely enough but you know he could break free if he really wanted. His eyes are closed, long lashes resting on his cheek, lips parted as his breaths start coming harder. You feel him throb as you drag your mouth over the head of his cock coaxing more precum to spill across your gently flicking tongue, his eyes screwing up tight and the breaths turning to strained panting as he feels himself getting close.

"Yes Matty," you praise him and he starts to tense and shudder, "that's it honey..."

Just as he feels the pressure build to its unbearable peak he gasps and cries as you pull your mouth off him leaving him right on the edge. "No, no- please!" he grits his teeth, hissing in frustration, folding in on himself, his chest heaving as you prevent him chasing that high. Sitting up, you take in the way his beautiful body is sheened in sweat, soaking into the red ropes. He whines and begs for you, thrusting his hips up, trying to get any stimulation he can, his gorgeous thick cock red and desperate for release. On the very fringes of his mind he remembers he asked you for this, he needed you to reign him in and stop him spiralling out of control. You give him just enough time to calm down before you're stroking him again, and god it feels so good. He basks in the hot kisses you trail up and down his neck as you work him up to the edge again, praising him over and over as the throbbing tightness at the base of his spine returns with a vengence.

"Angel I- I'm gonna c-come-"

"No. Not until I say you can." you tell him, your voice saccharine as you take your hand away denying him again. Matt whimpers this time, all the frustration beat out of him and only a desperate need and longing for you left. You can't deny him a third time, you're almost as needy as he is and you're aching to feel him inside you.

When you climb onto his lap you swallow his moans as your slick pussy glides over the length of him, and he twitches and groans into your kiss. It's all sloppy tongue and clashing teeth, he wants you to consume him, wants you to take him over entirely so he won't have to think any more, just for while, and you're more than happy to oblige. He grinds his hips up and licks into your mouth and you suck on his tongue when you take him in your hand and sink down, his eyes roll back in his head as the velvet heaven of your cunt finally surrounds him. He can't help but think he should have to sell his soul to be able to feel such pleasure. He still can't touch you, he's completely at your mercy. Every time you rise and fall the wetter you get, he can feel it dripping down his balls, the slick sounds making it harder to hold back as you ride him. You've got one hand curled under the ropes crossing his neck holding on, and the other held to the back of his head keeping his hot eager mouth on yours the whole time you fuck yourself on him. Through your unbridled moans he can hear the chafe of the ropes wrapped round his legs rubbing against your soft inner thighs, and the quick familiar movement of your fingertips between your legs dancing over your swollen clit.

"Sweetness..." he pleads, knowing he can't last like this, you feel too good for him and he tells you as much, panting against your ear as he kisses down the side of your neck.

"Mm you don't need to baby," you reassure him, "I want you to come when I do... wanna feel you fill me up," you murmur, closing your eyes and holding on as Matt can't help but thrust his hips up into you pounding that spot that makes your toes curl.

"Oh- Matt, ohh!"

You clench around him suddenly, squeezing his cock like a vice as your orgasm hits you heady and thick and Matt practically howls, spilling hot and deep inside you almost instantly. The overwhelming relief and release almost knocks him out. He hears your voice, yes, just like that baby- fuck yes, like it's somewhere in the distance, and it's only instinct keeping his body going and fucking his cum into you as you ride out your pleasure.

You stay wrapped around him for a few moments after as your breathing slows, and then smother him with kisses as you gently lift off his lap. Matt smells the mix of your cum dripping from your pussy as you move to untie the knots. He's so high on it, spaced out, absolutely blissed and pliant while you tend to him.

You had everything on hand before you'd started. Water, towels, and moisturising lotion already on the nightstand so that when you were done you could keep taking care of him. Carefully you begin unwrapping the ropes, tracing the impression they left on Matt's skin as he was freed. You tell him how beautiful he looks with those marks on him, just how good he was for you. He smiles sleepily, sighing as you help stretch out his arms, legs, and feet as they're unbound. You dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders and he melts under your hands as you loosen the muscles there. A quick once over with a damp towel does well enough for a clean, you can run a bath later but right now you just want to snuggle up with him in bed and nap for a while.

You curl around him skin to skin, pressing your chest to his back and idly smoothing your hands gently over the fading rope marks. Matt hums and turns his head to kiss you again, a little more lucid now.

"Thank you sweetheart," he says, his voice a little hoarse but loving and grateful as he turns to face you, stroking your hair back behind your ear, "you always know what I need."

You smile and peck him on the nose. "You're so very welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did, you make it easy."

That wicked smirk of his spreads slow across his lips and you raise an eyebrow. "I know that look Murdock... what?"

He grins, "well, I was just thinking that I'll have to return the favour sometime..."

He pulls you in close to his chest and you smile, briefly imagining that particular scenario as he tenderly kisses the top of your head.

"Mm yes Matty, you definitely will."

Matt tags: @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @e-dubbc11 @freshabogados

If I've missed you or you're not into it apologies! just let me know if you want to be on the taglist or be removed ☺️

[mercy-burning]

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 II || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} 

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : your illicit relationship with your (former) professor forces both of you to consider if the risk is worth the reward.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 9k (jeeeesus)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (oral f and m receiving, rough sex, creampie, massive amount of dirty talk), zemo being super cocky, smoking (just zemo, not the reader), alcohol consumption (zemo and reader although the latter is moreso implied), angst (not a ton but yeah), strip chess (does this require a warning?), zemo’s friends being sorta sleazy, one mention of/implied anal, brief violence? (one punch)

part 3 coming asap!

                              You watched his eyes slowly scan the board, darting from his pieces to yours and back again.

“You’re stalling,” you accused, breaking the silence.

“I’m thinking,” he mumbled back right away, never looking away from the board as he rested his chin in his hand.

“Think faster,” you instructed with a groan, leaning back in your chair and looking out the window instead.  When you saw movement in the corner of your eye, you looked back again, but he just sighed and moved his hand back into his lap without doing anything.  “Oh my god!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it,” he grinned, finally grabbing his knight and moving it forward.  “Check.”

You looked around the board to confirm he was right, and he cleared his throat expectantly.

“I said, ‘check’,” he reminded you.  “Stand up.”

“You’re really going to make me do this?” you pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m not going to make you,” he smirked, “but you’re going to do it because your only alternative is to forfeit.”

With a sigh and a little smile of your own, you stood up and unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them quickly.  His face was irritatingly neutral as he watched you strip, only your bra and underwear left now, but his eyes gave everything away as they examined you with even more care than they had the chess board.  

“You know, this whole ‘strip chess’ idea isn’t exactly going according to plan,” you frowned, sitting back down in the chair and crossing your legs.

“What do you mean?  Of course it is,” he grinned.  “Oh, you mean, your plan… yes, I hope my suit coat is keeping your entire outfit good company over there in the pile.”

You scoffed defensively.  “If you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

“I know, darling.  This was just to get you to slow down for once.”

You coughed a little, shocked by his brutal honesty.  “Damn, shots fired,” you mumbled to yourself, and he laughed.  

“Now, it’s your turn to see if you can get this tie off,” he smirked.  “And do hurry it up, so I can show you what happens when I get a checkmate.”

His apartment was, unshockingly, so much nicer than your dorm; so it wasn’t so odd that you spent most nights here each week.  Well, perhaps it was a little odd since you had practically moved in and you’d only been seeing him for a few months… but you were happy, and he was happy, and you were trying desperately not to overthink it.

Your schedule was carefully crafted so as not to include any Friday classes, but obviously as a professor his itinerary was a much more traditional 8-to-5 no matter the day of the week.  As a result, it was typical for you to lay around his place through most of the day, working on your laptop or occasionally mooching off of his HBO Max account.

You were doing just that when you heard the key in the front door, and you scrambled to turn the TV off so he wouldn’t think you were being lazy… but when he entered, you were still laying on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, so you didn’t exactly look productive either.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting up and resting your arms on the back of the couch as he took his bag off his shoulder and hung up his jacket.

“Hey,” he mumbled in return, sounding a bit distracted and not even looking back at you.  You furrowed your brow as he sat down on the couch beside you, letting out a heavy breath and staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, pouting as you moved closer to straddle his lap and run your hands over his chest through his button-up.

“Well, the thing is,” he sighed, taking off his glasses with one hand to rub his eyes with the other, “tomorrow is my birthday.”

“Wh— that’s a good thing!” you scoffed.  “Let’s do something!”

“My fortieth birthday,” he clarified.  “Tomorrow, I will officially be twice your age.”

You sighed a bit.  “That really bothers you, doesn’t it…”

“Does it not bother you?  It should,” he snapped, deflating you instantly, and his tone softened.  “I’m sorry.  That was harsh… I just feel guilty, sometimes.  I wouldn’t want to take advantage—”

“I’m a grown adult, Helmut, I know I’m younger than you but I’m not a child and I can make my own choices.”

He nodded.  “You’re right.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, chewing his lip slightly as he gathered his thoughts.  “I would just hate to see you regret this.  And I think, when you’re older, you will.”

“Let me worry about that,” you frowned.  “The future can be dealt with later, we should enjoy the present while we can.”

He laughed softly.  “I think I have an idea of what you consider ‘enjoying the present’...”

You smiled as you leaned in closer, holding his face to press your lips against his.  It was pretty innocent at first, until his hands began to rest at your waist and you sighed slightly, feeling your hips shift above him.  He grinned, teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip.

“What do you know?  I was right,” he whispered.  “You’re turned on already.”

It made your cheeks burn when he called you out like that, like he was mocking you for how easily he could make you desperate, and you looked away in embarrassment.  “I can’t help it!” you defended in a pout.

“I know,” he cooed, kissing your cheek and neck softly.  “I think it’s sweet, really.”

That made your cheeks burn even more, and you looked back at him again to find his brown eyes sparkling.  “Really?”

“Really.”

You trailed your fingers over his cheeks, scratching his beard a little bit which made him scrunch up his nose.  “Well, I think you’re sweet,” you giggled.  “And you know something else?”

He raised an eyebrow and you leaned in to speak closer to his ear.

“I think it’s sexy that you’re twice my age,” you whispered.  “Well, that tomorrow you’ll be twice my age.”

“Yeah?” he pressed, fingers just barely grazing over your skin as they trailed down your legs.

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving your hands to his chest where you started to slowly unbutton his shirt as he sighed.

“That explains why you can’t seem to keep your hands off of me,” he chuckled, looking down to watch your fingers brush over the patch of hair on his chest and toy briefly with the necklace he wore.  

“Well, that’s more just because I know how good you can fuck me, and I’ll never be satisfied by anything else,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Darling, I don’t think you’re even satisfied by me… I already made you come this morning, don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” you pouted, “that was your fingers and it was right before you had to leave and I was still half-asleep…”

“Whatever it is that you want, draga, just say it,” he ordered in a whisper, holding the back of your neck and pulling you closer so you had to look back at him.

It was a lot harder to say with him staring right at you, but you swallowed and did your best.  “Need you to fuck me.  Wanna feel you inside me, please.”

His only answer was a quick nod before he kissed you, rough and dominating, letting you cling onto him while he stood up and carried you to the bedroom, falling with you onto the mattress.

He made a big show of kissing his way down your body, tearing your clothes out of the way on his path, eventually leaving you in only your panties which he examined with a grin as he held your legs open.

A shiver ran up your spine when he caught the lace in his teeth and used only a playful bite to pull them down your legs.  

Once the panties were off your ankles and he had tossed them aside with a flick of his head, he held your thighs as he dove right in, lapping at you hungrily while you moaned and your back arched.

He purred against you when your fingers wove into his hair and tugged slightly, but you honestly didn’t even mean to do it: you just needed to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling back into oblivion, and it seemed like a more attractive option than the bedsheets.

His lips attaching onto you and sucking your clit hard was already overwhelming in its own rite, but then two thick fingers began to push into you and it was impossible not to cry out, your bottom lip falling from where it had been caught between your teeth.

“Fuck!” you yelped, hips shaking and trying to rock up against his face as he curled the tips of his fingers against your spot right away.

“Close already, draga?” he cooed, words muffled since he didn’t fully pull his mouth away from your body before he spoke.  “I’ve only just started.”

You could only nod and feel your face heat up even more; at this point you had no right to be embarrassed by how sensitive you were when he’d already proven to you over and over that he could bring you to the edge in minutes.  But still, apparently some little shred of shame was still left in you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was determined to train it out of you.

“If you’re close then now would be the time to start begging,” he reminded you as he moved his fingers faster and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, Helmut," you sobbed as you writhed uncontrollably, "I'm so close— fuck me, please, I want your cock."

"So you don't want to come on my fingers, then?  You don't want me to make you come with my mouth?"

"No, I want you to fuck me, please… you know I need to come around you."

Not one to let you down when you pleaded like that, he pulled his fingers out and suddenly flipped you onto your hands and knees, chuckling when you gasped.

“This is how you want it, isn’t it?” he presumed as you heard him finishing the undressing process behind you until you finally felt the head of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

“Yes,” you breathed, “just fuck me, please—”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched noise when he shoved into you, this angle giving you no relief from how deep he was filling you.  One of his hands was beside yours, keeping him balanced upright above you, and you watched it tighten into a fist while the other slid up to hold your neck in a way that was simultaneously intimidating and soothing.

When he started to move, each stroke rubbed against your swollen spot and you struggled not to fall apart right there and then.

“So perfect,” he breathed right against your ear, almost like he was saying it to himself more than you, “you feel so fucking perfect, draga.”

Of course that would make your back arch even more, pushing him deeper into you in search of not only more friction within you but more of his praise whispered to you.

Soon it was you pushing back against him more than him fucking into you, and you felt his proud smile press against the curve of your neck.  “You need it that badly, darling?”

“Need you,” you whined back, not really capable of a full sentence at this point. 

“I know,” he whispered, soothing you with kisses all over your cheek and neck and shoulder.  “I know, poor thing, you just need to come, yes?”

Your mouth fell slack as you nodded, rocking back into him faster and more desperately than ever.

“You need me to make you come?”

“Yes, fuck, please!” you cried, hoping he wouldn’t get irritated with you becoming so demanding, but thankfully he obliged and held your body tight as he really fucked you then, hard and fast and completely unforgiving— exactly how you needed it.

Every part of your body seemed to tense up in time with each other: your toes curled, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in fists, your walls fluttered and tightened around him.  

When you opened your mouth to speak, you genuinely didn’t know if you should expect a scream or a whisper.  What came out was somewhere in the middle, slightly choked and completely fucked-out.  “Please, don’t stop…”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, draga,” he groaned, his fingers rubbing your clit roughly as he fucked you even harder, slamming into the deepest parts of you until you were choking on your own sobs.

"I— hng, Helmut, I'm—" you tried to warn him, but you couldn't even put a few words together.

"I know, darling," he cooed, "shh, just come, go ahead and come for me."

He sucked hard on your pulse as your legs quivered and your body gave out; if it weren’t for him holding you tight against him, you would’ve fallen on your face onto the bed (and you may not have even noticed if you did, since you were suddenly going numb and tingly everywhere).

Just past the ringing in your ears you could hear him muttering curses against your skin, in a few languages you didn’t speak, before switching back to English to praise you in a growl.  “I love feeling you come around me, draga, keep going— you’re squeezing me so tight that I can barely keep it together.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks from the force of it, and his hand reached up to wipe them away— a gesture much too tender considering the way he was pounding into you like he was out for revenge.

"Fuck, I'm close, so close," he breathed, grunting with every thrust into you.

"Come in me, I want it so bad, I need it…"

His teeth sunk into your neck, his lips sealing and sucking on the delicate skin, as he let out a muffled moan and began to fill you.  The warmth of it was always indescribable, but perfect; a heavy exhale of relief sunk from your chest out your lips.

You were able to stay like that for a long moment before he let you go and you inevitably fell limply onto the bed, just barely beginning to catch your breath and come back down to reality.

“Fuck, that’ll leave a mark,” you groaned as you rubbed where he’d bitten you, but you were smiling, too.

You watched him get up and stretch briefly; you were pretty impressed he was still energetic enough to do anything but collapse onto the bed beside you, though you certainly didn’t mind the view as he walked to the window and acquired a cigarette and his lighter.

“Isn’t smoking after sex a little stereotypical?” you chuckled softly.

He smirked back at you as he placed the end between his lips.  “It’s the only time I smoke, so I’m going to blame you for how many packs I’ve been going through,” he countered, words slightly muffled from holding the cigarette.  He struck his lighter and carefully lit the end, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke out through his nose.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t have such an… appetite, before you,” you admitted.

“You’d never had anything worth craving before,” he shrugged; how dare he be so casually cocky like that?  How dare he be so accurate?

Deciding you definitely needed a shower (though you would’ve loved to lay there catatonic for a while longer), you managed to sit up and get off the bed.  The only problem was that you severely overestimated the awakeness of your legs, and when you tried to stand on them, they buckled right away.

He dashed across the room to catch you, concerned at first but then smirking around his cigarette as he looked down at you in his arms.  "Are you alright, darling?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you nodded breathlessly, balancing on his arms as you found your footing.  "Thanks."

“You don’t need my help in the shower?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed, letting go of his hands.  “We both know your ‘help’ isn’t going to get me clean.”

“You’ve got me there,” he admitted, raising his hands in relent as he returned to the window while you finished your delicate trek to the bathroom and reached into the shower to turn on the stream of hot water.

Though the shower thankfully did get the sweat off of you and (most of) the come out of you, it could never wash away the feeling of his touch, the little bruises in the shape of his lips or fingertips, and thank god that it couldn’t— your heart might break if they ever faded.

Of course, that made you start wondering which made you start overthinking (a common shower pastime for you) and suddenly a pang of fearful guilt started to throb in your gut as you wondered if your feelings were becoming too strong.  

You pushed the thought away and finished up your shower, deciding now was not the time to worry where this affair was going.  Didn’t you deserve to do something fun and crazy and a little bit dangerous for once?  At least you weren’t in his class anymore so what you were doing was less ‘wrong’ and more just ‘probably a bad idea.’

But this bad idea had been going on for a few months now and sometimes it felt like you were barreling towards an inevitable breaking point.  Could any relationship that began in the way yours had find longevity?  Is that even what you wanted?

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really manage to successfully stop worrying about it, and you sighed absent-mindedly as you dried off with a borrowed towel.  If anything could soothe your racing mind, it was coming back to the bedroom to find Helmut in bed, his cigarette finished and replaced with a book and his reading glasses.

The way he smiled when he saw you was infectious, and he extended his arm out in invitation for you to join him and, well, that offer was irresistible.

You beamed as you jumped onto the mattress, which had settled from its bouncing by the time you found a comfortable spot on his shoulder and lifted your leg to drape over his.  

Your head found a place on his chest while your fingers traced over it, trailing down at one point to his stomach where you delicately traced over the scars there— the ones you’d been too afraid to ask about before now.

“What happened?” you asked softly.  “The scars…”

“A dog mauled me when I was little,” he remembered flatly as he turned a page in his book.  

“Oh no!”

“Not as bad as it sounds, I can’t even remember it now,” he shrugged.

“Anything interesting?” you asked, motioning to the book and looking up at his profile as he returned to his thoughtful reading.

“Something horrifically boring,” he answered flatly, looking over at the bedside table when his phone vibrated on top of it.  Setting the book down and grabbing the phone instead, he squinted as he looked at the bright screen.

“What is it?” you asked after a brief struggle not to be nosy.

"Another professor in the department is offering to take me out for drinks, for my birthday," he explained as he examined the message.

"That's sweet of him," you smiled.  "You should go!"

"Well, actually it's a 'her,'" he corrected.

Oh no, there it was, stirring in your stomach: jealousy, for no good reason, with no right to start stirring in your chest.  Of course in your mind, this female professor was sexy and sophisticated in a way you couldn't be, someone who could keep up with his discussions about history and politics that you barely understood, someone who could do all those things you couldn’t do. 

Including, you know, going to bars… like the one she was inviting him to now, on the night of his birthday.

“Well that’s… nice,” you mumbled.  “Is it just you and her, or…?”

He paused as he processed the question, before suddenly smirking and setting his phone down to stare back at you.  “Do you think she’s asking me on a date?”

You couldn’t parse at first if he was asking you because he thought you were being ridiculous for thinking it, or because he genuinely wanted your perspective— as if he would be happy if she was.  It made a lump form in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow down.  “I… I don’t know, maybe?” you shrugged.  “How old is she?” you, morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

“I don’t know, 30-something?  Like I will be for the next—” he paused to puff his cheeks with a sigh and glance at his watch— “5 hours or so.”

You tried to hide your disappointment that he didn’t give a number like 60 or more.  “I don’t think you’re allowed to say 30 ‘something’ when the ‘something’ is 9,” you snorted.

“Okay, she’s in her late 30s then,” he decided.

“Well, that’s…” you trailed off. 

“What?” he pressed.

“I guess it’s probably a date, then,” you decided.

“It’s definitely not,” he shook his head.

“Does she know that?” you shot back, regretting it once you said it.

“Seriously?” he laughed.  “Do you think something is going to… happen between her and I, at this bar?”

“Well, maybe not at the bar, she’ll probably drive you to her place in her BMW or whatever,” you scoffed.

“Draga, she’s a history professor, she can’t afford a BMW,” he smirked, kissing your forehead.  

“Okay, but she has a car, and an apartment, and a job— you know, maybe she’s more ‘in your league’,” you proposed.

He laughed again.  “Yes, maybe she is.  And maybe you’re out of my league.  So I think we’ve established that it would be entirely uneconomic for me to be with her instead of you.”

You noticed the way he said ‘being with’ and not ‘date’ in reference to this.  Because you two weren’t, technically, dating, even if he did take you on what could be considered dates by most of the population.  “People do uneconomic things all the time,” you mumbled back, and he let out a little sigh as he looked down at you.

“Darling, I am entirely disinterested in pursuing another woman… as well as physically incapable.  I can barely keep up with you, how do you expect me to entertain somebody else?”

You swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up at all.  “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business,” you sighed, “I didn’t mean to ask you for anything, you can make your own decisions and I know we said this wasn’t—”

“Shh,” he interrupted to hug you tighter, “you’re overthinking again.  I’m not going to sleep with someone else—”

“But I’m saying you could, if you wanted to, I’d just want you to tell me since we aren’t using condoms and we would probably just call it off—”

“Baby,” he smiled, making you look up at him as he reached down to hold your face in his hand, “I just want you.”

You choked on nothing in particular, feeling so vulnerable so suddenly.  “O-okay…”

He held your head close to his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, while you were still reeling from that statement; you didn’t know exactly what it meant— it certainly implied exclusivity, but not necessarily any romantic contexts, right?  To ‘want’ someone can mean a lot of things… sexual, mainly, which is what you assumed he was referring to.

And you were definitely not disappointed if he only wanted you in only that way, but you couldn’t swallow down the longing stirring inside you, the unforgettable knowledge that you wanted him in every way that could be meant.  Best of all, you wanted him all to yourself, but you were too self-conscious to bring up the exclusivity talk and you were too happy now to risk messing it all up with pesky emotions.  It was just amazing sex, between two people who thankfully managed to get along well outside the bedroom as well, and there was absolutely wrong with that.

If nothing else, you knew a lot more about history than you did a few months ago, so if it all ended tomorrow, at least you would have some fun facts about Sokovia to show for it.

When your friend Kacey told you there was a house party this weekend, you were originally going to say no… but the house in question was actually just down the block from Helmut’s apartment, so you knew if you hated it you could leave easily.  Maybe getting out would do you some good, and it was the same night that Helmut was going out with his friends for his birthday so the timing was convenient.  He encouraged you not to wait for him alone and bored all night; this seemed like the perfect way to avoid that.

And maybe if you were getting dressed up all sexy to go out to a party at the same time he was supposed to leave for the bar, you could convince him to ditch them and spend his birthday fucking you senseless.

When he caught a glimpse of you while he walked past the bathroom, he stopped suddenly and you grinned as you turned to face him.  "Whaddya think?" you asked proudly, letting him get an eyeful of your outfit.

“You look…” he trailed off, scanning the skin-tight dress with wide eyes.  “Do you always dress this way for parties?”

You shrugged.  “Most of the time, yeah.”

“Remind me to take you out more,” he nodded.  “Or never let you go out without me again.”

“You don’t think it’s too revealing, do you?” you teased, stepping closer.

“Oh no, don’t play that game with me,” he laughed.  “Don’t try to make me jealous just so I’ll get rough with you.”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  

“Does that tactic usually work on whatever boys you were seeing before me?” he smirked, and something about the way he called them boys made you feel all tingly and suddenly you were not the one in control anymore.  You nodded shyly and he stepped up to you, pulling you into a soft kiss.  You tried to deepen it but he moved back too soon, leaving you wanting more like he could do so effortlessly.  “I’ll see you tonight, have fun at your party.”

He left you with one more kiss, to your forehead this time, and you were almost more impressed than irritated at how he managed to make sure you’d be thinking only of him all night long.

Not too much later after he’d driven off, you left on foot for the party— though you definitely considered cancelling last minute and just moping around his apartment, staring forlornly out the window wondering when your husband former professor turned not-exactly boyfriend would return from the war bar.

But you had a point to prove to yourself, as well as Helmut and Kacey, and so you finished primping and found the walk rather pleasant in terms of scenery (if irritating in terms of fashion).

As far as house parties go, it wasn't quite a rager but not exactly a casual hangout either; you could hear the music from across the block, though faintly, as bass reverberated through the ground and into your platforms while your friend waved you down from the porch, calling your name.

She met you at the sidewalk just in front of the house, pulling you into a tight hug; you had been worried at first that you were overdressed (or, in a certain sense, underdressed), but her outfit was significantly more revealing than yours; a two-piece with her stomach and belly button piercing exposed.  

“You look hot,” Kacey beamed when she pulled back from the hug.

“You think so?  I’m a bit out of practice,” you admitted.

“Glad you could dust off the heels and join us,” she winked.

“Us?”

She glanced back towards the house.  “Yeah, Pia’s here— somewhere…”

Another junior in your major; as the most social girls in the computer science undergraduate stratosphere, the three of you were sort of forced to be friends, but thankfully it wasn’t for naught and you got along well.  Sometimes Kacey could be a bit… effervescent for your taste, in the sense that she was one of those bubbly outgoing types and had more energy than you knew what to do with.  Pia was more reserved but acquiescent, which meant she ended up pulled along on whatever adventures Kacey got herself into you.  And then there was you, who had been blowing them off every weekend with a list of increasingly-absurd excuses: sick dog, sick cousin, sick self (both migraines and menstrual cramps), heavy homework load— you know, the usual suspects— all in the name of hanging out with Helmut.

You considered yourself lucky that they still wanted to hang out with you, after you’d been AWOL this long, and you feared that they would understandably want an explanation.

Following Kacey inside the house, you tried not to wince at the volume of the music— a live band, it turns out, and not a very good one— and grabbed a stray drink from a table on your way to wherever you were being guided.

Pia was sitting on the arm of a couch, listening to a very stoned young man talk about the meaning of life and the universe, but she smiled when she saw you and Kacey, getting up to greet you.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she frowned playfully, hugging you quickly.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled.  

“We should catch up!  How have you been?” she pressed, tilting her head.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna miss this TED talk?” you snorted, glancing over at the guy who had changed topics slightly and seemed to have confused string beans with string theory.

“I’ve heard better philosophy from the back of cereal boxes,” she laughed, but right as she said it the band finished their song and everyone glanced in your direction, including the heartbroken hippy himself.  “Uh, sorry,” she winced, and Kacey laughed as she guided the three of you away.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks, wait here,” Kacey decided once she found a new corner to lounge in, but Pia abandoned you soon afterward in search of a bathroom, leaving you to do what you did best at parties: stand around and avoid everyone’s attention.

You were surprised to hear your name from behind you, and when you whipped your head around you saw a tall guy with a wide smile looking down at you.

“Professor Zemo, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Wh— what about him?” you stammered out.

“We had his class together,” he explained.  “I sat behind you.”

“Oh!” you smiled, relieved.  “Right, um, yeah…”

“Trey,” he finished for you.

“Trey!” you repeated, nodding.  “I knew that… hi, Trey, good to see you.”

“How’s life been treating you since you set the curve in that class?” he grinned.

“I don’t think he even graded on a curve,” you mumbled.  “But, um, good.  Just… livin’ it up,” you decided, cringing internally at your own wording.

“Yeah?  I haven’t seen you in any other history classes,” he noticed.

“Oh, I’m not a history major,” you explained quickly.  “Computer science.”

He chuckled incredulously, wrinkling his eyebrows.  “What were you doing in a history seminar?”

Fucking the professor.  “Elective,” you shrugged.  

“So you’re just a hobby history buff then?” he presumed.

“No, I actually kinda hate history, I prefer to live in the present,” you decided, “but, y’know, underwater basket-weaving didn’t have any seats left…”

He snorted out a laugh, a little too hard for the quality of the joke, and you realized this was probably flirting.  You’d never really seen it up this close, so you couldn’t be sure… and considering how he looked in his jeans with the shirt half-unbuttoned, you weren’t exactly mad about it…

But it made you feel sort of sick to your stomach.  It made you feel guilty, on behalf of Helmut but even moreso for Trey who was totally sweet and smart and deserved to be spending this energy on somebody who could appreciate it.

“Want another drink?  Looks like yours is almost empty,” he motioned to your red plastic cup.  

“Oh, um, I would but… I think my friends are coming over here,” you dismissed, hoping he would take the hint without taking it too hard.  He seemed to understand, giving you a nod and a wave before he disappeared into the crowd right as Pia grabbed your arm.

“Who was that?” she asked right away, giving you a look that you chose to ignore.

“Trey, he sat behind me in my history class last semester.”

“He’s cute,” Pia winked, leaning against the wall beside you.  “And definitely into you.”

“Well, that’s… good for him, I suppose,” you stammered.

“Are you gonna go for it?  Get his number?” she pressed.

“Uh, probably not,” you decided, “I’m gonna get another drink—”

Before you could walk away, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.  “Hey, what’s the deal?  You seem kinda out of it.”

“Oh, well, I just— I guess I’m not as much into the party scene as I used to be.”

“I’m using my psychology major mind-reading powers,” she warned, waving her fingers at you like she was casting some mystical spell while you leaned back and squinted.

“Um, that’s definitely not how that works—”

“You’re acting weird becaaauuuusee… you’re totally hung up on somebody else and feel guilty flirting with guys here even though you know you shouldn’t,” she announced, crossing her arms proudly when your dumbfounded expression gave away her accuracy.

“How did you—?”

“Lucky guess.  So who is it?!” she grinned.

“Uh—”

Kacey, summoned by the smell of gossip, seemed to appear from thin air at your other side.  “Who is who?” she smirked.

You glanced around at the crowded room of students and decided this was definitely not the place to talk about such an illicit affair, taking them by the hand and dragging them into a more private room of the house.  Finding a seat on a chair as the girls gathered around you (oddly reminiscent of a childhood storytime, except this story was going to be a lot more mature than those), you prepared to answer as many of their questions as you could.

As a European, Zemo was quite well-practiced at going out to bars with friends, but in America it was a very different experience.  It took him twice the alcohol to get half as drunk as his colleagues, meaning by the time he was feeling a decent buzz, everyone else had foolishly tried to keep up and ended up totally sloshed.

The person who had initially suggested this event (as well as the one you had foolishly felt some sort of jealousy for), Dr. Josten, had actually respected her own limits and left first while she was still good to drive, meaning Zemo was left only with men who couldn’t hold their liquor or their tongues.

Case in point, a bunch of his fellow professors were now trying to convince him to go up to the bar and flirt with a woman in a red dress.

“No, no way,” Zemo shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“You could totally take her home, just tell her it’s your birthday!” Professor Bram, from the English department, suggested with an elbow digging a bit too hard into Zemo’s side.

“Does that normally work?” he asked bewilderedly.

"I mean, not for me… but it could work for you!  Ladies love an accent."

“You’ve been teaching stateside for over a year now, Zemo, it’s time for you to experience American women,” one of them laughed.

“Who says I haven’t?” he mumbled to himself before another sip of his vodka, but unfortunately some of the others heard him as well and he got a playful punch to the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!  Was it just a hook-up or what?”

“No, I… well, I’m seeing someone, I suppose is the way to put it,” he clarified.

“How long?” Kacey asked you first, right away, as she leaned in excitedly.

“Um, a few months now,” you realized.

“No, I mean how long,” she smirked, gesturing with her hands to indicate length, and you snorted.

“Jesus, I’m not telling you that!”

“Buzzkill,” she rolled her eyes.

“Plenty long enough, that’s all I’ll say,” you laughed.

“How’d you meet her?” Professor Carpenter (another history department veteran) asked.  “I mean, you’re never anywhere but work… is it someone you work with?”

“In a sense…” Zemo trailed off.

“So, is he in one of your classes?” Pia wondered aloud.

“Um, he was, last semester,” you agreed.  It wasn’t false, by any means, but definitely not the entire truth, either.

"So, another lecturer,” Professor Chen (Zemo was about 80% sure he was in the political science department) nodded thoughtfully.  

“Gotta be somebody from the Women’s Studies department,” Bram smirked proudly, despite it not being a statement to be proud of at all.

“Or is it that woman here on the visiting scholar program, the temporary lecturer in neurology?” Carpenter jumped in.

“No, he said she was American, c’mon, keep up,” Bram frowned as he slapped Carpenter on the padded shoulder.

“Delta or Sigma?” Kacey squinted, like it was an interrogation.

“Not a frat guy, some of us have standards Kace,” you scoffed.

“Hey!” Pia gasped, offended on Kacey’s behalf.

“Nah, she’s right,” Kacey soothed.

“She’s not a lecturer, okay?” Zemo hissed, tired of having basically every department of the university listed to him (including some he didn’t realize existed).  “She’s not faculty.”

“...staff?” Chen posited.

“What, you mean like the janitor?  No, not staff,” Zemo rolled his eyes.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.  It’s none of your business.”

“It doesn’t matter!  What’s with the secrecy?”

“I haven’t told anyone about it yet, and I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol to start now,” he frowned.

“Which of your classes was he in, then?” Pia asked, shifting her line of questioning (and unfortunately looking in the right direction).

“Um, that history thing I took last semester,” you answered.

“That guy from before was in your history class!  Should we just ask him who it is?” Pia grinned mischievously.

You cursed yourself for giving away too much.

“I’ll go find him and see if he’s going to give us more to work with you than you,” Kacey decided, already standing up to walk out of the room.

“No, wait!” you yelped, pulling her back; you didn’t want to tell them anymore, but you couldn’t afford if someone like Trey found out.  Telling Kacey and Pia wasn’t ideal, but at least they could be trusted with a secret.  “I’ll tell you, okay?  Fuck, I don’t even know how to say this…”

Chen tossed up his hands in defeat.  “Alright, the only reason you could be so weird about this is if it’s somebody totally forbidden—”

Zemo’s chest tightened as he worried they would figure it out.

“Like, I don’t know, an adjunct or something.”

“An adjunct?  Are you out of your mind?” Zemo spat.

“Hey, no judgment in brainstorming,” Carpenter defended.

“You think I would be this protective about it if it was an adjunct?” Zemo continued.

“Listen, we’re not gonna think less of you, whatever it is— and we’re not gonna tattle on you,” Bram assured.  “Just get it off your chest while the liquor’s flowing, half of us aren’t even gonna remember it tomorrow anyways.”

“I’m dating a professor,” you blurted out.

“She’s a student,” he finally interjected, the entire table suddenly going dead silent.

“...a grad student?” one of them pressed, making Zemo swallow uncomfortably.

“Um, no… she’s actually… twenty,” he admitted.

“Holy shit,” Pia gasped.  “You actually did it…”

“We bow to your hoe powers,” Kacey spoke reverently, clasping her hands as if in prayer.  “We’ve all dreamed of bagging a hot professor and now you made it a reality.  Please, O Queen, teach us in your ways.”

“It’s not like that,” you defended.

“Is she at least getting a better grade out of you for it?” Carpenter joked.

“No, it’s not like that,” he dismissed, “she passed my class with flying colors quite some time ago.”

“Okay, but was that before or after you slept with her?”

“It was irrelevant to the fact that I slept with her.”

“So, after,” Chen assumed with a smirk.

“Yes, after,” Zemo finally admitted, “but she’s not my student anymore.”

“Is she your girlfriend then?”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek.  “We… haven’t really had that conversation yet.  I keep meaning to, but then… one thing always seems to lead to another…”

“Oh really?” Pia grinned.  “So what’s he like?”

“Sensitive…” you mumbled right away, “patient, weirdly funny though I don’t think he realizes it.”

“I know I’m going to sound like every creep who ever preyed on young women, but she’s very mature for her age,” Zemo explained.  “Incredibly thoughtful.  Wise beyond her years.”

“No, no,” Johnston shook his head, “what’s she like.”

"It's nothing like how it is with guys our age,” you gushed, clutching your blanket tighter to your chest.  “He's so attentive, and sensual, and he can go for hours," you explained as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the memories playing on repeat in your mind.

"You must understand that she's nothing like women our age, at least not any that I've met," he nodded as his friends set down their drinks to lean in close.  He was sure this was more attention than he'd ever gotten for one of his lectures.  "She's… insatiable.  She wants to go again and again and I'm just trying to keep her from getting injured or something, poor thing."

"So she likes it rough?" one of them presumed with a toothy grin.

"She's so inexperienced she doesn't really know what she likes yet.  She's learning with me.  So we try everything."

"Everything?" one of the girls repeated as she widened her eyes.

Your face warmed up as you cleared your throat.  "I mean… yeah…"

"So, anal?"

You choked on nothing, which said more than any answer could.

"I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Come on, you don’t have to tell us everything, just give us something to work with here,” Carpenter pleaded.  

“I don’t want to know what you mean by work with,” Zemo shuddered.

“At least tell us how you got her to sleep with you,” Chen compromised.

“Or let us do a guest lecture in your class so we can try to find our own undersexed sorority girls,” Bram added.

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say it’s not like that?” you frowned.  “I’m not turning this into some fucked up teacher-student dating service.”

“You keep saying what it isn’t like but you won’t tell us what it is,” Kacey noted.  “I mean, is it serious?”

“All I can say for sure is that I feel pretty serious about it,” Zemo tried to explain.  

“...are you in love with her?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly deciding now was the perfect time to finish his drink.

“Love?” you repeated, voice cracking.  “I don’t… know about that,” you stammered.

But the really upsetting thing was that you did know, and you hadn’t let yourself think about it until now.  It hadn’t been long enough to justify feelings like that, and the last thing you wanted to be was the naïve girl who caught feelings when all the guy was looking for was sex.

“It’s not just sex,” he announced.  “It’s something really real.   I didn’t know that I could—”

He stopped himself.

“I haven’t felt this way since—” he began, but stopped again.  “I don’t know.  Just, be careful how you talk about her.”

“Oh, you’re really whipped,” Bram chuckled.

“She’s incredible; you’d understand if you met her.”

“Then let us meet her!”

For a moment, he actually considered it; he wasn’t sure if you thought that you were at the ‘meeting friends’ stage, and considering the cultural difference it was going to be a unique one for sure.  Would you ask him to hang out with your friends?  He didn’t even know what that would look like.

“She seems like someone worth getting to know,” Bram agreed, and Zemo grimaced at the predatory look in his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he sneered, and Chen patted him on the back.

“Good move.  I’d be keeping her to myself, too… otherwise she might end up upgrading to a tenured professor like myself,” he beamed.

“Better watch out before Chen here steals your girl, Zemo,” Carpenter warned.

“She can’t be stolen,” Zemo assured.

“Yeah, you say that now…” Bram trailed off.

“Care to finish that sentence?” Zemo snarled.

“Well, think of it this way.  Most students wouldn’t fuck their professor,” Bram explained.  “But those that would, usually wouldn’t only fuck one.”

He didn’t punch him in the face because it was crude.  Sure, that was a factor, but it wasn’t the real reason.  He punched him in the face because it sounded like it actually made sense.

He punched him in the face because he couldn’t understand why it made him so angry; so what if he was just one of your exploits?  What difference did it make?  After all, you’d just said the night before that he was free to pursue others, and he couldn’t quite appreciate yet why that didn’t feel like freedom at all.

From a certain point of view, he knew he should just appreciate that you were with him at all, irrelevant to whoever else you might be with or would potentially be with in the future.  But from another, and much more salient, point of view, he wanted you all to himself.  And he hated that.

Like all good anger, his anger in that moment was born of fear, and he’d never been so afraid that he was just the lucky target of your promiscuous phase.  As selfish as it was, he wanted to think of himself as more than that.

And now that he was getting thrown out of a bar on his own birthday, contemplating the paperwork he would have to fill out tomorrow after punching a coworker tonight, he’d never thought of himself as less.

Much to your delight, he returned relatively early for a guy coming back from a bar on his birthday— 11:57 p.m., specifically— but it made sense for him being a responsible professor and all.

Well, mostly responsible.  After all, he still had his former student waiting for him when he got back, perched on the couch expectantly.  As fun as the third degree had been with Kacey and Pia, you wanted to be here when he got back— and now that they finally understood the real reason you were leaving early, they were more than supportive (perhaps a little too supportive, with their rather graphic suggestions and… hand gestures).

You didn’t stay on his couch for long, though; you got up and met him at the door as he slipped off his coat and hung it up nearby.

“How was your night out?” you asked softly, reaching up to rub his chest through his shirt.

“Um, it was good,” he nodded, “I missed you though.”

“I missed you, too,” you sighed.  “I was here all by myself thinking about the present I want to give you.”

“I told you not to get anything for me,” he remembered, gasping slightly when you pushed him back against the door.

“Just be gracious and accept your gift, okay?” you whispered, starting to kneel down and open his belt.

“O-oh,” he breathed.

You palmed his cock through his trousers, biting your lip as you felt it swelling already.  “I didn’t wrap this gift… and I forgot to get you a card to go with it.”

“Somehow I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you,” he chuckled, though his smile dropped when you pulled his cock out and stroked it slowly.  You had meant to tease him a bit but you found yourself sucking on the head already, too desperate for even your own plans; not that he had any issue with it, you could hear his breathing quicken as you bobbed your head slowly and stroked what your lips couldn’t reach.

He was still getting harder and the feeling of it on your tongue was so hot it was almost distracting, it made you want to reach down under your dress but you knew you were going to need your full attention on him if you were going to do this properly.

Closing your eyes, you kept taking him deeper and deeper until your lips met the base of his cock while his tip was lodged deep down your throat.

“Fffuck,” he hissed, “where did you learn how to do that?”

You pulled back and took a breath, stroking his cock as you responded.  “I’ve been practicing, all for you.”

It made his cock flex in your hand to imagine you gagging on your fingers or a toy in hopes of learning how to deepthroat him, let alone to know that it worked.

You took him in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around his slit until he reached down to grab your hair— not hard enough to guide your movements, he was still letting you set your own pace, but hard enough to tug at the roots and make you moan around him.  Slowly, you sunk down again, humming and swallowing around him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re too fucking perfect,” he sighed, watching closely as you pulled off of him even slower, running your lips and tongue over every part of him.  “You— fuck, you really don’t need to do this.”

“I want to,” you breathed, darting your tongue out to give a wide lick to his head.  “I’m already so wet just from this, Helmut… I want you to fuck my face.”

“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your hair tighter.  “You’re sure?”

You smiled and nodded.

“Then open your mouth."

Never one to turn down an instruction like that, you let your mouth fall slack and hummed a bit as he pushed his cock forward past your waiting lips.  After that it was just a matter of letting your throat relax and focusing on your limited chances to breath as he held your head and guided you.  

Whatever discomfort came from having your throat filled so deep was heavily outweighed by the incredible feeling of being used— it sounds debasing, but the way he stammered out praises made you feel anything but degraded.

“So good,” he grunted, “look up at me, darling, show me how good you look choking on me— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You were trying to be sexy, here on your knees in this tight dress and heels, but he had you feeling small and delicate saying things like that.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed; you had to shut your eyes then because you couldn’t hear that and look up at him or you were going to end up having to throw these panties out.

The volume of his moans was one thing, but the desperation in them was another; and both of them made it clear he was close, and you wanted to finish him off like this more than anything.

“Fuck— I’ll come,” he warned, “is that what you want?  To swallow it?”

You hummed in appreciation, hoping that would get your message across well; and it certainly seemed to, considering he bucked up into your throat more erratically than ever, moaning loudly with each thrust.

Hot come painted the back of your throat, so deep you never really got a chance to consider the taste although you imagined a night of drinking wouldn’t have done him any favors there.  Not that you minded; it was him and that was enough to make you moan with delight as he filled your mouth.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pumps of come slowing down to a stop as he relaxed against the door and caught his breath.  The moment of calm didn’t last as you started to gently suckle on his softening cock, making him tense up and suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.  “Nonono,” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling you off of him as you smiled mischievously, “it’d be a shame if I died on my birthday.”

“But what a way to go, hm?” you laughed as he helped you up from the floor.  “Not your birthday anymore anyways,” you noted, tapping on his watch, “it’s 12:02.”

“I hope you don’t think that means the party’s over,” he smirked, picking you up suddenly, making you laugh in surprise as he started to carry you to the bedroom.  “I’m officially a man in his forties with something to prove, so we’ll be going all night, draga.”

[nightowlfandom]

Possesive! Jeon Jungkook- Only Mine....

HEY GUYS!

SO ANON ASKS

Your new promp list had me 🥵🥵🥵 if it’s ok can I request numbers 1, 3, 34, 79 with jealous best friend JJK snapping after seeing you around boys all the time? You can choose if you want it noncon or dubcon 🥵

OMG I GLAD YOU LIKE IT! OKAY LETS GET RIGHT TO IT! (Also since I don’t do non-con, I’ll make it consensual. Just a heads up)

1- Look at me when I fuck you!

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

34- I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you.

79- Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

LEGGO!

...

“Kookie!” You ran up to your bestie as he walked out of the airport terminal.

“Y/N!” he practically dropped his duffel bag as he wrapped his arms around your wait. He hoisted you off the ground. He buried his head in the crook of your neck. “My Y/N, I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” you laughed as he tightened his arms around you.

“And I get you all to myself- he began.

“Y/N!” you heard an onslaught of voices. Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin and the other guys all crowded around you. You were pulled out of Jungkook’s hug into Namjoon.

“Guys!” you smiled. “I missed you all too!”

“Damn, you should’ve seen Jungkook! He bolted out of the plane!” Hoseok laughed.

“Maybe because I wanted to see my Y/N.” he grumbled in reply. “Give her back!”

“No way!” Yoongi scoffed. “You can have her back after we get dinner.”

Jungkook glared as his friends. How dare they just take you from him?! 

“You guys!” you laughed. “We’re making a scene!” you said as their fans caught sights of you. They all seemed infuriated. “You’re fans are gonna-”

“Our fans aren’t gonna do shit.” Jungkook glared into the crowd. “Let them try.” he seethed. He snatched you back into his embrace. “I’ll protect you, love.”

You nodded shyly as Kookie led you to the front of the airport.

...

“Okay weirdos! Dinner is served!” you held the giant box of takeout. “Noodles for Yoongi, Taehyung! Rice Cakes for Seokjin, Namjoon and Hobi. For Jimin, some Extra Spicy Tofu Stew. and For Jungkook and I, fried rice!” you put the box on the coffee table.

Jungkook smirked, of course he went out of his way to make sure no one ordered the same thing as you. He made sure you had ordered last so he could order the same thing. 

“Shit, they gave me way too much Bulgogi.” Namjoon seethed. “Y/N, wanna split with me? I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all of this.” Namjoon looked at you who had already settled. 

“Oh. Sure!” you smiled. 

Namjoon shot Jungkook a mean spirited smile. “In your face, asshole.” he said with his eyes, even though the words never escaped his lips

DAMNIT! Jungkook felt his fist clench. He rolled his eyes. “Hey! Y/N! Pass me a napkin will ya?”

“Oh. yeah.” you threw a napkin his way before resuming your conversation with Yoongi. 

Jungkook watched as Yoongi traced his fingers on your wrists as he spoke to you.  His face hardened into a glare. Everyone knew he liked you, but until he made his move they wouldn’t care. 

...

To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was practically steaming at the ears.

“Why were you with Hoseok?” he asks as he stormed through his room door, a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Surprising but not painful.

“He needed help shopping for an outfit for a photoshoot?” you raised a brow. “Why?”

“Don’t bullshit me! You were on a date!”

“Okay first of all even if I was, what business of yours is that?” you crossed your arms. “You’ve been acting pretty weird these past few days and I don’t like it!”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU PARADING YOURSELF AROUND LIKE A-”

“I dare you to fucking finish that sentence.” you warned. “You can forget you had a friend if you do.” You backed towards the door.

Jungkook grew more and more agitated. “Y/N I’m sorry.” he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Why are you acting so weird?” you sighed. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“No!!” he looked at you as if you had lost your mind. “Y/N I LOVE YOU!” he blurted out. “I’ve loved you for five fucking years ever since we met!!” he spilled his heart out. “and y-you’re putting me in an uncomfortable position!”

“Huh?” you could barely register what he said before he stormed up and captured your mouth is a kiss. 

‘Kookie!” you were surprised to say the least. “You just- Hmm.” he didn’t give you time to talk as he kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He ran his fingers down your spine, holding you close.

You would have been over cloud nine...if you weren’t so angry.

“WAIT A MINUTE.” you forced yourself to step back from him. “FIVE YEARS?” you exploded. “FIVE FUCKING YEARS AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME! YOU LET ME BELIEVE YOU ONLY SAW ME AS A FRIEND FOR FIVE MISERY FILLED-...”you began pacing back and forth as you lashed out on your friend.

Jungkook just watched as you drug him for filth, calling him every name in the book.

“YOU ASSHOLE! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO HIDE MY FEELINGS AND YOU JUST COME OUT THE WATER AND TELL ME THAT- OH YOU PEICE OF-” Jungkook finally had enough and cornered you against the nearest wall.

“...I feel like... I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you. “ he mused aloud. “You’re in love with me? And you didn’t tell me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that somethin-”

"I am still mad at you.” you sneered. “After tonight you are dead to me.”

“Am I ?” he cooed. “So you don’t want me to...” he began fumbling with your jeans, unfastening the button with one hand. 

“What are you doing?” your eyes widened. You were now more shocked that angry. “Don’t you dare-...” you felt the pads of his fingers along the line of your clothed slit. 

“What? Was that a moan I just heard?” he smirked. “Come on Y/N I know you can be louder than that. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll make you cum.” he creeped into the waistband of your panties. “Come on...beg me honey.”

“I refuse.” you looked away. “Y-you can go fu-fuuuhh-” you felt the pads of his fingers. 

“I said fucking beg.” he sneered, pressing his body up against yours. “Stop being so damn stubborn. Let me hear those sounds you think nobody hears when you finger yourself in the bathrooms at midnight.”

“How did you-”

“You stink at being quiet.” he bit his lip. “Come on.” he spoke in a babyish voice, rubbing your clit. “This is how you do it to yourself, right?”

“J-jungkook.” you whimpered. “W-what are you-”you cut yourself off as you felt his fingers slip into your wetness. A loud moan erupted from your lungs. 

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s fucking it.” he growled. “Moan like that some more.” he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you. “Are you thinking about me when you thrust those pretty fingers into that-”

“Don’t say it! That’s a dirty word!” you warned, while ironically mewling like a little kitty cat.

“Don’t say what? That pussy? That cunt? That soaking wet womanhood you got down there. The same pussy that’s asking me to shove my dick in there?” he smirked as he spoke.

“You d-dick!” you leaned forward, your head falling on his shoulder. “S-such as asshole.”

“  Look at me when I fuck you with my fingers.” he demanded. “Or I’ll stop completely.”

You shyly lifted you head. Jungkook thought you were so adorable and truth be told he wouldn’t have stopped. To know that you obeyed anyways was so relieving. 

“Shit, I needa taste you real quick.” he moved his fingers from you and yanked down your jeans. “Kick those off for me.”

You instantly obeyed, throwing your jeans and panties off to the side. He lowered himself to his knees. “Shit, look at that.” he wasted no time in driving his tongue into you.

“Hey Jungkook!” there was a knock on the door. Jungkook had pushed you against the door, stopping anyone from opening it. You heard Jimin’s voice.

You glared down at Jungkook with warning. You knew what was gonna happen, but you were scared anyways. 

“Hmmm!” he moaned loudly, driving his tongue deeper into your slit. He sucked at your clit, causing a loud cry to escape you. 

“Umm is Y/N in there with you?” he called. “IS SHE HURT?!”

You tried to talk, but Jungkook had hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Come on, answer him.”

“I-I’m okay!” you found it in yourself to talk. “I’m just...a little busy!” you clenched your fist to focus on something, anything else. “Doing things!”

“Like what?”

“LIKE BEING FUCKED BY ME!” Jungkook yelled back as he rose to his feet, pants dropping around his ankles. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You felt his cock slip into your heat. “COME BACK LATER!”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he carried you to the bed, setting you down along with himself. He slowly thrust himself into your wetness. “Damnit Y/N.” he seethed, sucking in a harsh intake of air. “Shit.” his jaw went slack.

“F-fuck.” you whimpered. “Kookie.” you whimpered. 

“Y/N.” you could see the tears of pleasure forming in his eyes. “You feel so- So fucking good. Look at me, p-please?”

You didn’t tear your eyes away from him. You found it hard to. “Jungkook! I- Uh..” you were now a load, crumbling mess.

“I want to kiss you, come here.” he grabbed either side of your face and gave you a slopped kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. But I don’t want to until you cum first. So I’m gonna go faster okay?” His eyes bore into yours, noses touching.

You shyly nodded, feeling his thrusts increase. You were hella sensitive, and in love with it. “Jungkook.” you moaned. “It feels-”

“I know.” he kissed you again. “Fuck, cum for me...cum for me please~” he mewled through thrusts.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. A string of curses he had never heard before along with his name spilled from your lips. Jungkook was next to cum, yanking himself from you. He spilled his cum practically all over the place. He collapsed next to you, leaving you both to stare at the ceiling.

“...I should go.”

“ No...Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.“ he breathed out. “Y/N...I-..I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You should be.” your breath hitched. “Probably would have gotten this out of the way a lot sooner.”

Your grumpy words made him laugh a little. He lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you towards him. “I love you, for real.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. You’re mine. Only mine...”

...

I STILL GOT IT BITCHESSSS

[djarinsbeskar]

Counterstrike - Boxer!Din AU

Definition -  a strike that retaliates against an earlier strike.

A/N: Finally back with a long awaited instalment for Boxer!Din. I’m floored by the response he has received since I posted him first and I just wanted to thank you all so much for showing him (and me) so much love (and lust). In particular, I’d like to dedicate this instalment to @bestinbeskar @honestly-shite @3frontier and @pedro4ever for the gorgeous art of Boxer!Din they each made! Links can be found on the Boxer!Din masterlist below.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), semi-public sex, rough dom!Din, dirty talking, no beta.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

Ever since he first fucked you in the middle of his boxing ring, Din had developed a bit of a bad habit. A habit that involved finding some way to bury his cock inside you ever time he saw you; an inconvenience since you mostly came across each other in less than private settings. His gym, the sports clinic, or the massage studio you worked at.

It was sweltering, the city falling under the hold of a heatwave that no number of cold showers would help cool. Din ran hot by nature, and the heat only served to make him two things: irritable and horny.

That might explain the near instant reaction he had to the tempting little sundress you wore to combat the suffocating heat when you popped your head around the main doors of the gym. Your day off if the lack of uniform was anything to go by. A vision in coral pink and flushed skin, you beamed against the metal and muted, dark tones of the boxing area.

Sweat dropped down his temple from where he lay on the bench press, bare chest glistening and muscles taut as he lowered the barbell down slowly to his chest. Trained, expert eyes – honed instinct to notice every miniscule move of an opponent – picked up the flash of color and immediately flickered over to where you were approaching him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

His jaw clenched as he turned his attention resolutely back up to stare at the ceiling, focus Djarin. With a measured exhale, his muscles bunched to press the heavy weight back up away from his body, held it for a beat, and let it lower once more on a slow inhale.

Three more.

His head turned towards you to admire your form as you traced your hand over the dumbbell stand, skilled fingers walking along the progressively heavier weights while your eyes met his in the wall of mirrors behind the stand. You smiled. And it lit your face up.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His eyes dropped from yours down your body indulgently, content to hold the weight of the barbell a beat longer. The way that dress clung to every damned curve he wanted to sink his fingers and teeth into, the swish of the skirt barely reaching the middle of supple thighs that looked better thrown over his shoulders. The fucking nerve you had to not bother concealing the faded mark on the top of your breast where it peeked out from over your neckline where he left it several days ago.

His mouth twisted into a snarl, his mark. Damn fucking right.

You were teasing him, crossing one ankle over the other to turn towards him with a dainty twirl of your skirt. Don’t get distracted on the bench, he growled to himself internally, and with a grunt, he pushed the barbell back up, the lines of muscles that cut across his triceps flexing taut and his pectorals pulsed from the strain of exercising them.

The pulse of his cock in his gym shorts on the other hand, that wasn’t a muscle that was supposed to be engaged for this particular exercise.

Two more.

“Miss me already, sweetheart?”

He ground out, voice rough and strained—keenly aware of the sway of your hips as you walked back towards the bench, his eyes at perfect eye level to thighs he wanted to wrap around his waist. You passed his head – fuck, he could smell you from here – to stand by his hips. He brought the barbell back down slowly towards his chest, breathing more labored than it should be and his jaw clenched in frustration. You were getting to him.

His grip on the metal bar almost slipped entirely when you hiked up the skirt of your dress to kick one leg over the bench and straddle his hips, the sudden weight and heat making him grunt in surprise.

You were soaked—he realized at the same time it dawned on him that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Does this answer your question?”

Voice as light and airy as the lavender scent that suffused the room you gave massages in—making his teeth grind and his hips struggle to remain still when memories of that same voice breathless and gasping with moans he elicited rose in his memory.

You rubbed yourself over the thick outline of him through his gym shorts – you little fucking tease – and sweat wasn’t the only thing dampening them anymore.

“Finish your workout, Din,” you sighed breathily, hooded eyes scanning the empty gym floor appreciatively—basking in the ability to rock so openly and languidly over his throbbing cock. It was a sunny day. It was the end of the week. No one was in the gym—and that was precisely why Din chose to work out now.

His eyes never left yours, molten pools filling with dark promise clashed with yours as your small hands found the planes of his tight abdomen, the muscles clenching sensitively under your touch,

“Keep your back straight… don’t want to injure yourself again—” you purred and received a warning growl in response when he pushed the weight back up, a ripple of heated arousal gathering low at his spine and tightening to a coil beneath your hands that indulgently ran over toned muscles and tawny, inked skin.

One more.

Fuck… but you felt so good. Grinding on him like that.

Din’s hips rocked up against you despite himself, his heels pressing into the grate metal flooring to push his clothed cock against your dripping cunt, your soft gasp when he caught your clit music to his ears and the last bit of motivation he needed to drop the barbell back to his chest. You focused your ruts on the tip of his bulge, the fucking audacity you had to use him to get yourself off—grinding your clit over his soaked shorts and digging short nails into his stomach while soft, gentle eyes darkened with lust bore into his.

He lowered his hips again, smirking at the soft whine of annoyance you couldn’t mask in order to adjust his posture correctly. With one last exhale, a panted curse as corded muscles tensed and released with a final burst of energy, his arms straightened once more above him.

Finally.

He had a hand tangled in the length of your hair before the clatter of the metal barbell hitting the hooks of the stand above him died out, yanking you down until your breasts were flush with his heaving chest. His other hand – calloused and rough – grabbed a fistful of your ass, the soft material of your dress bunching effortlessly in his hand,

“Didn’t get enough last week, baby?” he growled against your mouth, guiding your hips over his cock harder now that he could thrust shallowly against you, grinning darkly at your keen of frustration when his mouth glanced yours, avoiding kissing you, “fuck, you’re soaked for me already—”

Teeth grazing your jaw, you arched your neck back in blind submission, the hand caught against his stomach shifting down to tug at his shorts, succeeding in getting them only halfway down. You both groaned at the contact when wet, slick heat burned around the leaking head of his cock, making the heatwave outside feel like nothing more than a warm breeze.

“Din…” you moaned when a perfectly timed grind of his hips knocked the blunt tip against your hooded bundle of nerves, “a week is too long…” you admitted to the boxer’s delight. Finally. He wasn’t the only one going stir crazy only seeing you sporadically.

“Yeah?” he rasped, tightening his hold in your hair so he could keep your head pulled back while he licked a small trickle of sweat that was slowly making its way down to the hollow of your throat, “thinking about my cock all this time?”

Feral pride filled him at your immediate nod, his chest swelling with a primal snarl – why the fuck did you have to agree so easily, he’d never stop thinking about it now – and captured your lips heatedly with his own. Growling your name, he plundered your mouth—lapping along your tongue and groaning at your taste, swallowing your soft sighs and mewls of satisfaction at finally having his lips on yours again.

His hand dropped from your hair to drag down your spine, down the thin fabric that clung to your heated skin until he was dipping two thick digits between exposed cheeks to swipe through your drenched folds. Circling, spreading, coaxing whines and groans of his name with every press of his fingers. Music more beautiful than even the most skilled pianist could create, and all from the fingers of a fighter.

Conversation from elsewhere in the vicinity carried through empty corridors and with a dip of his fingers into your quivering entrance – chestnut eyes sharpened to dark amber watching doe eyes flutter shut in pleasure – his words breathed into your mouth when your lips parted against his,

“Locker room. Now.”

What followed was a heated scramble, a need to be close—to remain in this transcendent bubble of scorching touches and burning attraction. He practically dragged you with him across the gym floor, weaving between machines with his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You already looked wrecked, thoroughly corrupted with mused hair, and crooked clothing. Your legs wobbled as you followed his menacing frame, eyes glued to the shifting muscles in his back, an apex predator dragging his prey back to devour in rapture. You went willingly.

The tiles of the shower cubicle were cold when he shoved you against them – the only place remotely private in the locker room when he tugged the thin curtain closed behind you – his hands flexing around your jaw when he turned your face up for him to kiss. Free hand pressing into the small of your back, he made you arch against him, and you mewled at the solid length of him throbbing against your stomach.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled, hand snaking around to disappear beneath the skirt of your dress again as he rocked his hips against you slowly—cupping your cunt and his teeth leaving a trail of bites down your throat as his words whispered across the tiles.

You blushed.

He saw it—even above the flush of arousal, he saw your cheeks darken and your eyes flicker to the side at his words. Avoiding his gaze, expecting a hunter’s response of claws and teeth to your doe-like display of weakness—and his eyes softened minutely. Some of the aggressive tightness bled from his gaze which he hid in a nip to your jaw, the heel of his hand rubbing in tempting circles over your swollen clit while his fingers split along your entrance, smearing your slick over puffy lips.

You rocked your hips over his hand needily, fingers scratching down the sides of his neck, scoring passion into the tanned skin and whispers against his lips – please Din, please – along with the pleasurable pain rippling from your nails compelled him to shove two fingers knuckle deep into your tight cunt.

He covered your mouth quickly with his palm when an unadulterated moan ricocheted off the tiles, echoing louder – “fuck baby, quiet” – was hissed against your cheek even as his fingers picked up a merciless pace of pump pump pump, his thumb swiping across your clit, his speed building—making it harder for you to stay quiet as you whimpered against his hand.

Nails digging into his shoulders, you buried your face into his sweat slick neck when he dropped his hand from your mouth to hike your leg up over his arm, spread you wider for him to thrust soaked fingers into your sopping core.

When you came the first time, you bit his neck—his teeth baring from the sting while his fingers scissored against your convulsing walls, dragging you through contractions of pleasure that sent spikes of electricity to cloud your brain in a muffled babble of yes yes yes sobbed into his neck.

Condensation misted the tiles by your head as heat lifted from sweltering bodies. Din growled praise, rough rasps of “good girl, that’s it…” into your ear as you relaxed around fingers that were lazily curling up inside you, your mouth working lazily over the sensitive point where his jaw met his neck, nipping—licking, begging him to fuck you.

His brain short circuited.

His large body caging you against the wall, you preened and arched and tempted him into you with soft sighs of his name and your hands tracing down to the hem of his shorts. Heavy, lust-pooled eyed followed your hands, watching you pull him from his shorts and stroke him with expert fingers that never failed to make him fall apart—on your table, in your bed… you bewitched him with touch since first he met you. He was a slave to it.

“Fuck, baby—” he groaned, his head falling back before he swiped your hands away from his swollen length, giving it a few hard strokes as he ran the head between your exposed folds. He filled you with on thrust, a filthy squelch as your pussy accepted him – unable to be gentle, unable to take his time when all he could think of was claiming you over and again, of meeting your counterstrike with a knockout and hearing your surrender in cries of his name.

He was big—so big that every time he filled you, it felt like he was splitting you apart. The smallest hint of pain, the breach of his cock melting into a delicious fire that licked and coated your nerves as the fat head knocked against soft tissue inside you. He found his pace with a slow rut that dragged his cock along tight walls where you could feel every single vein throb enticingly against you.

His facial hair sanded across your cheek as he panted how good you felt, how tight—how addicted he was to the feel of you, how he wanted to fuck you for hours. Your nails curved down over the muscles of his shoulder blades, along his waist—basking in his size, his strength—his head lowering to scrape his teeth over the swell of your breast, sucking over the ghost of his previous mark and drawing blood back to the surface as he snapped his hips back into you.

And then the door to the locker room opened, and conversation filled it.

Din didn’t even think before slamming his fist onto the water pressure, drenching the two of you in seconds with cool water and drowning the sounds of his cock slamming into you with the hiss of water falling in rivulets down your bodies.

You moaned, too far gone to know – or care – that you weren’t alone, and his hand came back up to cover your mouth with a warning growl into your ear, “Shut up, unless you want to give them a show.”

Even as he said it, his pace grew harder—punching gasps and sounds of surprised pleasure from parted lips that were only mitigated by the calloused palm he folded over them. Your nipples pebbled through soaked fabric, drawing his eager mouth down to suck it raw through the dress, whimpers for more echoed in the tight clench of your cunt around his glistening length.

Steam filled the shower, bleeding out into the locker room where laughter and conversation blended to mask the wet slaps of his skin against yours, the sodden movement of clothes and his guttural groans around your nipple as you clawed at his undulating back.

“Din—” you whispered, panting as strands of your hair fell into your face—fucked out and divine when his mouth slanted over yours again, your chest heaving while one hand lifted to cup his jaw, keeping his mouth on yours. He snapped into the dripping grasp of your pussy hard, shoving you up the wall onto your toes, the graze of the short coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling over your sensitive clit.

“So fucking loud…” he growled on a whip of anger, the sound cracking down the feral possessiveness of his tone and making you moan. He would spank that pretty ass red, your pussy pink if there wasn’t the risk of the sound carrying to the other athletes getting changed for their workout.

Oh well.

That just meant he would have to take you again later.

His balls tightened and his stomach clenched at the thought, fuck. He wanted you again and he hadn’t even cum yet—your tight little cunt already quivering and tightening around him with your oncoming orgasm as he lost himself in eyes flooded with open desire— disarming him with the candor he saw reflected in them. He swallowed thickly.

“Gonna ruin you, sweetheart,” was his immediate reaction, the only way he could think to reciprocate. A gush of wetness pushed around his cock drilling into you, your walls getting impossibly tighter, and he smirked darkly—his nose pressing into your cheek, teeth bared and feral, “you’d like that, huh?”

Delirious nods were all you were capable of as silent gasps kept your lips parted, eyes rolling back when his thumb dropped to draw tight, fixated little circles on your clit—forcing you over the edge with a final blow that sucked the breath right out of you, the boxer taking and taking and taking everything he wanted from you with wet thrusts and brutal bites to your already marked neck.

He swallowed your orgasm with his mouth, the wet strands of his hair dripping water onto your pretty face as he sucked your tongue into his mouth, dropping his free hand to slide down the length of your side as his thrust turned erratic, chasing his high—chasing that bliss he could only find buried deep inside you.

“Cum, Din—cum,” you breathed, cupping his face as you smiled—exhaustion written plain on your face and his brows pinched in concentration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp of your name, breathless as he pulled out—his hand moving frantically over the swollen length of him until he coated your mound and dress with his release. It washed away in streaks of milky white down your body, a subtle pang of fatigued frustration to see it disappear so quickly flashing though him.

The locker room was silent when he turned the water pressure off.

Apart from your labored breathing, the locker room was silent—the prior occupants leaving none the wiser or – if they had heard anything – wisely leaving.

Din dropped your leg from where it remained hooked over his arm, his hands fisting in the skirt of your dress to drag the sodden material up and over your head with a shiver at the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes.

The sight of your naked body made his softening cock twitch, dammit. You were all gentle curves and soft skin, clothed in the marks of his mouth and bruises of his grip.

He wanted you again.

And caged within his arms, trapped with his hands pressed either side of your head, his shaggy head of soaked waves falling into dark, guarded eyes—you could admit you wanted him again too.

“I’ll wash your dress,” he rasped gruffly, taking a step back from you and kicking off his shorts to wring out and toss into his gym bag. He left the shower with effortless calm, as if he wasn’t stark naked but returned with a towel for you to wrap yourself in.

You flashed him a grateful smile that stuttered when he tossed another – smaller – towel on your head, rubbing it quickly over your soaked locks despite your complaints, a crooked smirk your only indication that he was playing.

“You don’t have t—”

“You can wait for it to dry at my place.”

His words brokered no argument as you padded after him into the empty locker room, the boxer rummaging through his own locker to pull out a simple white t-shirt—long enough to cover you… just about. The hem fell shorter than your dress and you were distinctly aware of your lack of underwear when you pulled it on.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled as he tugged a tight black muscle shirt over his head, looking down at you with a devastating smirk and sinfully half-lidded eyes, “I don’t share. No one will see you.”

Taglist:

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[your-daily-biaswrecking]

hii :)

could you do a drabble where the reader and yoongi were in an arranged marriage for a while. She thought that Yoongi cheated on her so she asked for a divorce. Yoongi as a cold husband pleaseee !! So Yoongi gives her a rough + angry sex ?? to prove he's not cheating? hehehhe

love all your writings btw, you have so much ideas to be posting lots in a day !!! :)

thank youu !

damn this turned out bigger than normal cuz-- plot... and i didn't want to write a pt2 so i'm just putting it under the cut and let's just still pretend it's a "drabble"

You didn’t remember much from that night. Just some general feelings, like how annoyed and lonely you were. How you needed your husband but he wasn’t there. When you woke up the next morning, head throbbing from your hangover, Yoongi was missing from your shared bed. And even though you didn’t want to assume things, when you noticed multiple hickeys on his neck later that day, you had no choice but to think of the only logical conclusion: your husband was cheating on you.

It hurt. Sure, your marriage had been arranged, so perhaps he didn’t really want to be with you. But somewhere in the process of it all, you had fallen for him. He was always serious and keeping his guard up around you, but there were moments that you thought deep down he was actually a nice guy. And that he cared for you. I guess you were wrong. Who would ever do such a thing to someone they care about even the slightest?

At first, you thought you could put it past you. This was more of a contract than a marriage anyway, from the beginning. But it hurt you every time you saw him, every time he did a tiny, little nice thing for you, like cooking you breakfast or texting you to let you know he would be home late. As if you two were actually a couple. It hurt you so much you needed to put an end to it.

“I want a divorce.” You didn’t wait for the right time or something like that, just blurted it out one evening right after you had gotten done eating in mostly silence.

Yoongi was still in control over his facial expressions, yet barely. A tiny frown, a tiny widening of his eyes gave his shock away. “What? Why?”

You took a deep breath, looking away to be able to keep your composure; looking at him made your knees too weak. “I agreed on this marriage. I agreed to try and make it work even though I knew it would be hard,” you explained. “But I will not tolerate cheating. I want a divorce.”

“Cheating?” His voice was low, truly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I know, Yoongi. You don’t need to pretend.”

“What? I never-”

“I saw the hickeys you had all over you last Sunday.” The sentence shut him up, blank face taking its place over his shocked expression and you couldn’t read him. You gulped. “Or are you gonna claim those were mosquito bites?”

And then Yoongi laughed. Sound so contrasting to his usual attitude, sending chills down your spine. It didn’t last long, however, face serious again as he stared at you intensely. “Are you serious right now?” he barked, and you were starting to feel a bit scared. He took a step towards you. “You really don’t know who gave me those hickeys?”

You frowned, taken aback by his answer. “How would I- What does it matter?”

Yoongi chuckled again, reaching you across the kitchen until he was just a breath away. Looking down at you with dark eyes. “You were so fucking wasted that night, I guess I need to refresh your memory,” he whispered. And before you could even react, he lifted you up, legs straddling his waist as you yelped, arms snaking around his shoulders awkwardly as you were trying not to fall while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Yoon-”

“See?” he said, dropping you on the bed sideways. And his body loomed over yours. “This is where you laid while you were begging me to fuck you dumb. Do you not remember?” You gasped at his words, squirming in order to escape. But his hands were on your waist, pinning you down, and suddenly you knew the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. This had happened before. “Now what?” Yoongi growled into your ear. “You want to divorce me because you were sucking my neck and I was too weak to pull you away too fast? I did. It was so fucking hard but I pulled away and left because... I told you many times that if this was gonna happen, it should happen the right way. Not when you are black-out drunk. But you were crying and telling me how badly you wanted me. I had to jerk off alone because of how hard you got me with your begging. Was that all the alcohol talking? You didn’t even look at me the next morning.”

You had never heard him talk so much. And your face was burning as that night got clearer in your memories. As the realization that Yoongi wanted you as much as you wanted him settled in. “Yoongs, I-”

“No, shh…” He placed a finger over your lips. “You really have the audacity to think I’m cheating on you when all I’ve been doing is falling for you? Trying to turn this marriage into something actually nice? I’ve been trying to fuck you for so long, you really think I give a shit about fucking anyone else?”

The way his words affected you was surely clear to him as well. Your legs tried to close, yet only resulted in caging him against your hip harder, pushing him down until you could feel his hard dick through his pants. “I- I didn’t know, I…”

Yoongi ground down on you harder, breath unsteady and hot over your lips. “Tell me now, once and for all,” he whispered while his hands started roaming over your body, not even touching you anywhere specifically yet making you gasped with every graze. Distance between you so short it was intoxicating your brain. “Tell me if you want me to stop right now, and I won’t bother you again. Otherwise, I will not stop even if you’re begging me later.” His voice was so coarse you could tell his brain was rotten with want as well. Staring at your lips, waiting for the green light to devour them, probably barely registering anything else.

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Need you… Don’t stop…”

His mouth on yours was such a relief, lips and tongue soft as they played against yours. It didn’t last long before he was groaning, backing off to pull your shirt over your head aggressively, discarding his as well, and grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed. His skin was hot on yours, his mouth instantly back on your neck, giving you the treatment you had given him that forgotten night. And his roaming hands found your pants to pull them down while you were distracted. One slipping in your underwear to steal a touch of your center.

“Fuck,” he choked. And then he grabbed a fistful of your hair to turn your head to look at him. “What a nice, wet pussy. And you really thought I’d wanna fuck anyone else’s?” He looked mad when he pulled your clothes completely off you, getting naked as well. Hand wrapped around his thick member, allowing you only one glance before he was over you again, tip brushing against your entrance. “Let me show you, baby,” he rasped, and you were mewling under him. “This pretty pussy is mine, this is the one I want.”

“Yoon…” Your whine was interrupted when he pushed into you, not giving you any room to get used to his dick. His lips were on yours again, hand on your hair pulling it harshly as he started thrusting into you right away. You felt euphoric, your husband finally fucking you hard after all this time of suffering the sexual tension alone. And your fingers scratched his back while moans escaped into his bruising kiss.

Yoongi gave you a few very deep thrusts, hitting your cervix and making you cry before he pulled away again. “Feel that, baby?” he groaned. “Feel how well I’m fucking you- that’ll shut you up, won’t it?” He pulled out, grabbing your hips and flipping you around with no warning. He grabbed you by the ankles to drag you closer to him, and then slapped your ass hard.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You raised your ass higher, on your knees while your face was buried in the sheets.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a low voice. And he spanked you again. “Scream my name.” Another spank, softer than the others, while he stroked and kneaded your ass. “Scream your husband's name to let everyone know who’s fucking you so hard.” And he buried his cock deep inside you again. “Scream my name to remind yourself that you have me, baby.”

You were a panting mess. Your orgasm building inside you so wildly that you felt like you were about to combust instead of cum. And you dared sneak a hand down to rub your clit while you were moaning his name like a prayer. “Oh, Yoongi, please… Fuck, please…”

He smacked your hand away when he noticed, growling and grabbing your hair to pull it until your back was arched, mouth coming right next to your ear to whisper dangerously. “If you’re gonna cum, you’ll cum because of my cock inside you. Got it?”

You were nodding immediately. Although you were probably gonna cum because of his deep voice and harsh dirty words. “I’m gonna…”

“Good girl,” he growled, diving his teeth in the side of your neck. And it was what did it for you, shouting out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your vision turned black, pussy pulsing frantically around him.

“Shit,” he gasped, hips faltering. Then he let go of your hair only to grab your neck from the front, still pulling you back to have his face buried in your nape. “Gonna let me paint those pussy walls white with my cum, baby?” And you were moaning again at that, feeling like you were gonna cum again before you even came down from your previous high. Yoongi smacked your ass abruptly, making you yelp and give him the permission he needed. And he hummed, satisfied, his hips finding the rhythm he needed to finish. “My lovely wife,” he whispered sweetly even though his actions were anything but that. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you good all the time. Just so you know I don’t even have the fucking time to be seeing anyone else.” And then he spilled into you for the very first time.

Masterlist

[ilici]

brat.

Summary: Y/N is purposely breaking the rules in Manburg to get President Schlatt’s attention.

NSFW MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Overstimulation.

Word Count: 1730

Y/N groaned as she felt herself being pushed onto the ground, grunting as she lifted her hand up to block the bright sun from her vision. “What the hell Fundy?” She groaned, as Fundy just laughed at her, “Ha ha very funny.” She said getting up dusting herself off, “Now what the fuck was that for?” She asked him, glaring while Fundy pointed over to his now empty chest. “You stole from me.” He stated and Y/N rolled her eyes, “You say that as if you never steal from me.” She grumbled and Fundy just shrugged with a small smirk toying on his lips.

“You better watch it or I will shave off your fur in your sleep.” She threatened and Fundy gasped, throwing an apple at her, Y/N quickly ducked and glared, “Stop trying to injure me you asshole!” She said offendedly, while Fundy snickered. “You just love bothering me, don’t you?” She accused, while Fundy put his hands up in defense, “You’re the one breaking all the rules so you can get dicked down by our president.” He muttered, Y/N’s jaw dropped and she picked the apple up chucking it at him. “You fucking bitch, get back here you rodent!” Y/N yelled chasing after Fundy who bolted out of his den.

Trying to grab his swishing tail, Fundy yelped, picking up speed, “Get your ass over here Fundy!” Y/N yelled, pulling out her bow, aiming it at him. Fundy turned and his eyes widened, “You wouldn’t.” He said shocked and Y/N smirked, “Watch me.” She dared, before she could release the arrow that was laced with poison she felt a hand grip her shoulder rather harshly. Wincing she froze and Fundy looked between the two before he took this chance as an escape. “Y/N L/N you are breaking another goddamn rule.” His voice rasped in her ear as he whispered to her, Y/N felt a shiver go down her spine at his tone.

“Oh hey President Schlatt.” Y/N said too scared to look over at him, her words only made his grip on her shoulder tighten. “This is the 7th rule you have broken, you know damn well you aren’t allowed to have weapons in Manburg.” He told her, using his grip on her shoulder to his advantage as he swung her around so she could finally look at him. Finally, Y/N slowly looked up and made eye contact with Shclatt, who looked like he was about to murder someone; and that someone was herself. Quickly popping her bow into her inventory she innocently smiled.

“What weapon?” She piped, while Schlatt hardened his stare at her, she flinched at the intense stare but nonetheless she maintained eye contact. “Run three laps around Manburg then meet me in my office straight after.” He demanded and Y/N whined, “But I’ve run every time, is there not any other punishment?” She asked not wanting to run, Schlatt scoffed and dug his nails into her shoulder, “You could help Tubbo with his bee’s as they are escaping.” He said and Y/N’s face drowned of color, “Oh wait. That’s right you’re deathly allergic, now fucking get your ass running.” He yelled and Y/N grudgingly walked away.

As she was walking away she couldn’t help but smirk, “Just thought I’d let you know, you have a chipped horn.” She said pointing to the horn she chipped two days prior. Schlatt started walking towards her ready to beat her, but before he could grasp her she ran off laughing. Letting out a string of curses, Schlatt watched her silhouette disappear into the distance. “You are so in for it.” Y/N shrieked at the sudden voice before she calmed down seeing as Fundy was now trotting beside her in his fox form, “Don’t scare me like that you fucker.” She said kicking at his small form gently.

Hopping away from her kicks, Fundy laughed before transforming back, keeping up with her light jog, “You were eavesdropping weren’t you?” She asked him, side glancing Fundy hummed, “Possibly.” He said before he grabbed something from his pocket. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Schlatt’s pocket watch dangling in between his paws. “Fundy! Did you seriously pickpocket him?” She whisper-yelled while Fundy simply shook his head, “No. But you did.” He said, handing her the pocket-watch in a rush before transforming into a small fox and wandering away.

Furrowing her eyebrows, “What do yo-“ “Y/N!” She heard Schlatt's voice boom and she flinched looking at Fundy with fury and fear as she was holding his pocket watch. Turning around to face him, she hid the watch behind her, “Yes?” She asked and Schlatt glared, “I lost my pocketwatch and I could’ve sworn I saw you just holding it and talking to yourself.” He said, and Y/N stammered, “No sir, I wasn’t talking to myself I was talking to that fox there who actually stole your pocket watch.” She said pointing to Fundy who acted like an actual fox. Fundy just looked up at Schlatt with curiosity on how he would react to what Y/N was saying.

Schlatt just chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow. “A fox?” He asked and looked down at Fundy, who only squeaked and ran behind a bush shaking his head. He looked back at Y/N who scratched the back of her neck. “Yes.” She said nodding, “Now tell my why a fucking fox would steal something of mine that was personally on me just moments ago.” He reasoned, and Y/N internally groaned knowing she couldn’t give out Fundy’s secret. “Well foxes are known to be mischievous.” She said waving her hands around to emphasize her reasoning. “Y/N.” Schlatt said slowly, “What’s that in your hand?” He asked and Y/N gulped before she slowly looked down, “That is uh.. my watch?” She said, trying to sound like it was actually hers.

Schlatt looked at her with an amused look before he grabbed her by her shirt, “In my office Y/N.” He demanded, and Y/N sighed before she slowly started walking towards his office. “Faster, I know your little ass can go faster than that.” He yelled at her, and she started jogging to the building while Schlatt smirked watching her. Y/N entered the office and tried to catch her breath, “Fuck you Schlatt.” She mumbled, hating the thought of exercising. “I plan on it.” She heard a raspy voice speak up behind her, and the slam of a door. Her blood ran cold, “Shit.” She whispered, and froze once she heard the door lock. “Bend over my desk now.” He growled out, and Y/N obeyed not wanting her punishment to get worse.

“You know for such a rule breaker you are, I shouldn’t even lay a fucking finger on you.” He said coming up behind her, and slapping her ass harshly. Y/N held back a scream, “Shut up.” She groaned out, and Schlatt raised an eyebrow before slapping her ass once more. “Want to say that again?” He said, and Y/N shook her head and Schlatt chuckled, “That’s what I thought.” He said, and Y/N whimpered once she felt him grinding himself against her ass. “You’re gonna regret breaking all those rules.” He told her and Y/N just whined, “You just wanted to fuck me. Don’t think I didn’t hear what Fundy said.” He leaned down whispering in her ear. Y/N shivered and gasped when she felt her pants being tugged down. “Look at you already soaking wet.” He teased, rubbing her through her underwear.

Y/N held back the moan that bubbled in her throat, and leaned her head against the desk. Feeling her underwear pool around her ankles along with her pants, she bit her bottom lip once she felt one of his fingers tease her entrance. “Please don’t tease.” She whined out, and Schlatt just rolled his eyes before he entered a finger into her. Gripping the desk, she let out a small moan and Schlatt smirked at this. “Be louder.” He demanded and Y/N shook her head too shyly and Schlatt scoffed, taking his belt off and stripping off his pants and boxers. “Then I guess I’ll have to get it out of you.” He said, while Y/N looked back her eyes widening at how huge he was.

“I don’t think you will fit.” She said truthfully, and Schlatt rolled his eyes, “Who cares? You were the one breaking all the rules for this.” He reminded her and she groaned, “Fucking hell.” She breathed once she felt the tip enter, closing her eyes tightly as he finally bottomed out. Sclatt waited for her to adjust and give a signal for him to continue. Finally, she nodded her head, and Schlatt pulled out only to ram back into her. Y/N let out a load moan before she arched her back, “Fuck!” She moaned out as Schlatt continued slamming into her. Schlatt gripped her hips tightly, digging his nails into her purposely leaving bruises.

“I’m close.” She moaned out, and Schlatt looked at her shocked, “Already? How touch deprived are you?” He asked, and Y/N just whimpered in response. Chuckling darkly, he groaned when he felt her cum on his dick, and clenched around him. Y/N moaned loudly as Schlatt kept his pace, ramming into her. “Stop!” Y/N yelled out growing overly sensitive, Schlatt on the other hand wasn’t close nor did he plan on stopping. “This is your punishment, now take it.” He growled out, and Y/N soon started babbling out incoherent words, as she felt another wave of pleasure hit her. She came for the second time, and Schlatt smirked seeing how sensitive and fucked out she was. “Such a good girl.” He said, before he himself finally reached his high. Y/n felt him cum inside of her and she panted once he pulled out, her legs buckling and she quickly held onto the desk so she wouldn’t fall. Schlatt walked out and came back with a wet rag cleaning her up. “Next time you want to fuck, just tell me.” He whispered to her, and Y/N looked up at him with glazed over eyes nodding her head.

[bucks-metal-arm19]

Nightmares and Love-Making

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, talk of nightmares, cursing, voyeurism, dirty talk, face sitting, squirting, slight praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything! 

18+ only!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Welcome to my first Bucky Barnes one-shot! This stems from the fact that I couldn't find the smut I wanted so I just wrote it myself. I hope you like it! As always, it isn't looked over so all mistakes are my own :)

You caught him at a bad time- in the middle of what seemed to be a horrific nightmare as he slept on his makeshift bed on the floor. You knew he couldn't sleep in his normal bed in his normal bedroom, and you knew that the king-sized mattress was still adorned with the solid black fabric set you had gotten for him as his first official birthday present. He told you, one night as the two of you escaped to the roof of Stark tower, that the bed made him feel like he was getting swallowed alive. He was used to sleeping on a solid floor, with the thinnest blanket one could find and so that's what he did at his own home. home- he was still getting used to even having a home. 

“Buck? Bucky, wake up! It’s a dream, just a dream! JAMES, WAKE UP!” You hollered, having dropped your stuff at the door and running to collapse on your knees next to the man as you urged him to wake up. 

“Wh-what? J-just a dream?” He had finally quit shaking, and became coherent enough to realize that he was no longer at the HYDRA base, and was, in fact, in his own apartment with you holding him close to your chest. 

“Yes, just a dream. I promise, you’re okay.” His fingers were clutching the arm you had draped across his midsection and you knew that his vibranium fingers would be leaving imprints on your skin for you to wear for the coming week. 

“I thought...I thought...they had taken you. Hurt you. And I couldn't stop them. Could hear you screaming for me and I was powerless to fight all of them off. I couldn't...I couldn't save you.” He was sobbing, moans of a broken man being screamed into your skin as he clutched you like a lifeline. Your heart broke as you held him, quietly cooing and stroking his hair as you waited for him to come back to you. 

It didn't happen though; instead, his body steeled in a form of mental resolve and suddenly you were under him. Your back was laid flat against the cold wood of the floor and your hands were pinned above your head. You didn't even have time to gasp audibly as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them so that they had to wrap around his waist. You wanted to fear him, could feel your mind racing to find ways to get out from his grasp, but you were curious to see what would happen with this new side of Bucky. Almost feral with the way that he was panting, eyes darker than coal as he stared you down like you were his prey. 

“You will not be taken from me, you are mine. Do you hear me? No one will ever take you from me.” Bucky’s voice had dropped ten octaves between words, and you would be lying if you said that it did not make your heart skip a beat in anticipation. 

“I’m yours, Buck. Forever.” You promised, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry. 

“Say it again.” He growled, deep in his chest, as he leaned down to nuzzle against your collarbone and breathe in your scent. 

Your head fell back in submission, allowing him to press feather-light kisses and bruising bites against your throat as you murmured, “I’m yours, Bucky Barnes. Always.” 

“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” He had you flipped to your stomach in a second, with your arms still above your head.

“What are you gonna do to me, Buck?” You whispered, but you knew that he could hear you. 

“I’m going to ruin you, princess. Gonna absolutely fuckin’ ravish you until the only words you know are ‘please’ and ‘daddy.’ Gonna make you cum on my cock until you're crying, oversensitive, and begging me to stop. But you’re a good girl, my good girl, and you’ll take all of it until I fill you full of my cum. Then I’m going to run you a warm bath in my tub and I’m going to take care of you. Nurse your aches and lotion your bruises and then cradle you in my arms as we both drift to sleep. Does that sound good to you?” You can hear the cheekiness in his tone, but it’s laced with authority and you knew better than to deny him. Besides, everything he just said sounded wonderful and so you nodded your agreement. 

“Words, princess. Use them.” He ordered, the grip on your wrists tightening in warning. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You obliged, and the dark chuckle that erupted from his throat held a sinful promise. 

“Wonderful.” That old-time drawl curled around the single word and suddenly you were resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. 

Your stomach clenched and you could feel your pussy pulsate as arousal began to collect in your panties. Buck was still draped over your back, and he was rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his cotton sweats while he contemplated what he wanted to do to you first. It was only a moment, but the single beat of a second was all he needed before he had your jeans around your ankles and had settled on his back between your spread thighs. 

“What are yo-” you began to question, but the words were cut off as each of his ten fingers wrapped around hips and he yanked you down so that his mouth and nose were buried within your cloth-covered cunt. 

You heard him take a deep inhale through his nose and he let out the filthiest, bone-melting groan that you had ever heard him utter. Your nipples pebbled instantly beneath your lace bra and your eyes fluttered closed as you heard him chuckle once more. 

“God, you smell fuckin’ delicious, kitten. All wet and warm, just for me.” His nose nudged against your swollen clit as he licked a broad stripe up over your slit once and then again before using his teeth to yank the sodden fabric to the side so he could taste you properly. 

A shudder wracked through your body from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he continued his licks, collecting all of your wetness on his tongue and fucking his tongue into your leaking hole as his nose connected to rub up against your sensitive clit. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky. Christ.” You whined, rocking your hips against his face without meaning to but the way he was gripping your hips and tugging you closer told you that he didn't mind the possibility of suffocation. 

“Can't wait to be buried inside this tight, sweet cunt.” Buck snarled, using the hold he had on you to flip you onto your back. He thought ahead- as always- and made sure that your head would be safe as it fell against his pile of pillows on the floor. 

“Then bury yourself, Daddy. Fuck me.” You husked out, pupils blown wide in lust and adoration as you continued to fuck yourself onto his tongue. 

“Not yet, doll. Want you to cum on my face first. Damn near suffocate between these gorgeous thighs.” He ordered, eyes blazing as he gazed at you from between your legs. 

“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, fingers clutching and clawing at your still-covered tits while you chased the high building inside your body. 

White-hot heat began radiating from your fingers first, and then your limbs, and then from every inch of your body as you threw yourself over the edge of your orgasm and came undone as you rode Buck’s face like it was the best thing you had ever experienced. And it was- each orgasm he gave you always outdid the last. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. But you’re not done yet.” Buck finally managed to say as he untangled himself from your jeans and clenching thighs so he was standing before you in all of his glory. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy? Gonna use your cock and fill me up so I can help you forget all your worries?” You grinned up at him, still panting as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

“Yes, princess. I am.” His tone held no malice, and his eyes were watching you with lustful enjoyment as he mentally cataloged the image of you like this to his brain. 

“Then fuck me, already.” You taunted, leaning up just enough to yank your shirt over your head and then followed it with your bralette so you were finally bare beneath him. 

“You don't make the orders, you take them. Do NOT forget that.” The mirth that had overtaken him left suddenly and he was back on you in a second, sweats gone as he pinned you to the floor with no exertion given on his part. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You nodded, grinning as if you had won the lottery as your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist once more. 

“Now you’re gonna take my cock, kitten. It’s what you wanted, right?” He was back to nosing against your neck, as if the past ten minutes had not just occurred. 

“If you think you can do it.” You taunted once more, ankles digging into the skin right above the base of his spine so you could rut against him like a dog in heat, absolutely no shame in your body as you used him for the friction you needed to get off. 

“Is that how you want to play it? Fine.” He shrugged, as if you had just spoken about the weather, but the single motion he used had you back on your hands and knees in an instant. 

“I don't think I can do it.” Buck began to speak as he kicked your legs apart once more, metal hand pressing down on the small of your back so the arch you held deepened and you were presented to him like an offering. 

“I know I can.” And he slid inside you to the hilt, a single thrust that glided through your folds like butter and all thanks to the spit and arousal he created as he had eaten you out like his last meal. 

Your mind blanked in an instant and a groan ripped out of your throat that sounded foreign to your own ears but sounded like the best kind of music to Bucky. You collapsed to your elbows, head falling to rest against the single blanket that Buck slept with when you weren't here. 

“Ah, ah- no, you don't.” Bucky tutted between his teeth, flesh hand reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and wrap it around his fingers before pulling back so you were back onto your hands and could watch him through the mirror that sat adjacent from you. 

“Look at you, kitten. Covered in hickies and bruises and panting like a whore in heat. And yet, you’re taking my cock so well. So fuckin’ tight and WARM, just like the first time we had sex. Your pretty pussy, stretching around my thick cock as I fuck you into oblivion. Absolutely ravishing.” Bucky always got mouthy when he was lost in your shared passion, and it did things to you that you couldn't explain. 

“Keep your eyes on me while I make you fall apart.” He ordered, using the grip he had on your hip and the hold he had of your hair to fuck you like his life depended on it. 

“Yes, Sarge.” You grinned wickedly as you saw his lips turn up into a leer, knowing full-well what that name did to him. 

“Call me that again.” Bucky growled, letting go over your hair so he could lean forward over your frame to get a hand between your thighs to rub against your still swollen, sensitive clit. 

“Make me cum, Sergeant Barnes. Please.” You tacked on the last word for good measure, already feeling the familiar tendrils of heat curl around your lips and rush through your veins as he pounded into you with wild abandon. 

The clack clack clacking that his dog tags made against his chest after every move simply spurred him on, as if he was racing them for every thrust he made into your pussy, claiming it as his own. As if you ever even thought to let another man near it. He’d kill them before they even thought that they had a chance with you, and you both knew it. More often than not, he forgets that he’s even wearing them, but he knew that they were a kink of yours and he thanked every god he could think of that he wears them when he’s got you begging underneath him. Begging to cum, begging for harder, begging for faster, begging for Daddy to make her forget her own name while he buries himself inside her. Begging to be used and degraded and taunted and shown off like a prize that only he gets to win. Every moment of every minute of every day, from the moment they met until the end of time. And he loved every single damn second of it.

He was grunting, groaning, panting, cursing every word under the Sun as he rubbed tight circles into your wet clit while he sheathed himself inside you over and over and ov-, “FUCK!”

You came without warning, the damn bursting inside your pussy as you fell to your elbows once more while absolutely drenching his cock as you squirted for the first time. Shudders were wracking your body as you cursed and moaned and whined out Bucky’s name, vision turning black as you lost all sense of time during your orgasm. Your cunt turned into a vice on Bucky’s cock and it made him see God as he gave you one, two, three strokes before burying himself deep inside you and cumming in thick ropes across your hot, tight walls. 

He fell on top of you, losing all muscle usage as pleasure roared through his body like he had never experienced before. He had enough sense to cushion you from the force of his body, but that was all he could offer as he rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm of his life. You managed to come to your senses first, and gently pulled away from Bucky so he could begin to come to his own bearings. 

“That was...that was...wow.” You mumbled, vision still blurry as you threatened to pass out from too much mental and physical stimulus all at once. 

“Well, it’s not begging but it is a nice Segway. Ready for that bath?” Bucky was able to stitch together a coherent sentence faster than you thought he would and you couldn't help but laugh in both amusement and amazement that this wonderful man was all yours. Even if he did fuck you senseless. Literally. 

“I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

[hintsofhoney]

Are You Trying To Turn Me On?

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: A quick (and rough) fuck in the library with your boyfriend Dean after you (unintentionally) turn him on... and Sam's supposed to be back any minute.

Tags: 18+, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, oral (female receiving), playful Dean at the end, you and Dean give Sam a headache (over how cute you two are not that he’d ever admit it), I may be just a little obsessed with how I ended this 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was written for @msmarvelouswinchester​‘s 500 followers celebration (cutting it real close to the deadline, I know, I apologize, I’m literally such a procrastinator)! Congrats again on your milestone! My prompt was, “Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?”, which will be in bold (but it’s also the first line lol). Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?”

You looked up from the book you were reading, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about, Dean?” You sighed, frustrated that he had interrupted your concentration.

“When you’re really concentrating on something, you always bite your lip. Drives me fuckin’ crazy,” he explained with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re supposed to be doing research. Focus!” You scolded, going back to your lore.

“I can’t when you’re in here,” Dean countered, closing his laptop shut.

“Dean, Sam’s gonna be back any minute and he’s gonna be real pissed if we skipped out on research for having sex… again.”

Dean scoffed as he got up from his seat across from you at the library’s table and began making his way over to you. “Sam’s just mad because his girl doesn’t live here. He’d be doin’ the same damn thing.”

“Dean!” You exclaimed, as he grabbed the book you were reading out of your hands and closed it shut, throwing it towards the end of the table. He held out his hand to you and you took it, albeit begrudgingly. “Dean, you know we shouldn’t,” you tried to reason, as he pulled you out of your seat and lifted you onto the table.

“And why’s that, sweetheart?” He asked, his eyes filled with lust and his voice deep and gravelly, as he began kissing on your neck. You stared up at the ceiling as you tried to ignore the shivers being sent down your spine from his lips on your sweet spot.

“W-we have a c-case. Sam will –”

“Stop worryin’ about Sammy, will ya? He ain’t about to have a say over when we can have sex, especially when he’s not even here!” Dean said, pulling away from your neck and staring at you, a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, but, Dean, we’re in the library.”

“And?” Dean asked, going back to your neck. You gulped as he sucked on your sweet spot again.

“H-he could walk in.”

“And he can cover his damn eyes,” Dean smirked, trailing kisses up your neck and jaw until he reached your lips. You smiled into the kiss, releasing all your inhibitions. Dean’s assertiveness was making the heat rise in between your legs and besides, the two of you have already done it nearly everywhere else in the bunker. What difference does the library make? You wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck and your legs around his waist as he deepened the kiss, his fingers pressing bruises into your hips. His hands traveled up your body and under your shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it off of you and push you down onto the table so you were lying on your back. Dean hooked his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts, pulling them off your legs in one swift motion. You watched him; your breath caught in your throat from his eagerness. He was hungry for you, and it always made for the best sex. “Keep your arms above your head,” he ordered, and you nodded in response, gripping the upper edge of the table to help you obey his command. He grabbed your ankles and placed your feet on the tale, spreading your legs so your pussy was positioned at the edge of the table, still partially covered by your thong. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy,” Dean groaned as he took in the view in front of him before squatting down to make his face level with your core. You winced as he pulled the thin layer of fabric aside and your cunt came into contact with the cool air. Dean placed the pad of his thumb on your clit, just barely, and began to rub in slow circles as he watched carefully for your reactions. He loved teasing you, bringing you to the edge and then right back down, over and over again. In that moment, you were thankful for the chance that Sam could come in at any moment; you knew Dean wouldn’t be dragging out the merciless teasing for too long. Dean chuckled deeply as you squirmed under his touch, checking to make sure that your hands hadn’t moved from above your head. “Good girl,” he praised, removing his finger and bringing his mouth to your core. He licked a stripe up your folds, stopping to chuckle softly to himself. “Sam’s always tellin’ me to keep my snacks off these library tables… oh, well,” he smirked, looking over your dripping cunt and licking his lips before diving in again. You lifted your hips off the table in attempt to escape Dean’s merciless tongue, but he wrapped his arms around your legs and held you in place as he continued to suck and flick his muscle over your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Dean,” you breathed, subconsciously bringing one of your hands down to his hair as you got lost in the moment of how good he was making you feel. You realized your mistake as soon as the euphoria stopped and you felt Dean grab your wrist, tsking you for disobeying.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that, sweetheart. You taste so good,” he hummed, roughly moving his tongue between your folds a few more times as to make a point before swiftly standing up and flipping you around, your toes now on the floor as you were bent over the table. You heard Dean fumble with his belt buckle and unzip his jeans before you felt his length up against your thigh. “God, you don’t know how hard I want to fuck you,” he groaned as he moved his cock between your folds, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Do it, then,” you challenged him, knowing that you were going to regret it at some point tomorrow when you wouldn’t be able to walk straight. Your words were all the permission Dean needed to ram into you at full force, his hands gripping at your hips again as he thrusted into you hard and slow.

“That’s – what – you – want?” Dean huffed, punctuating every word with a thrust. You moaned as his cock hit the back of your walls every time.

“Fuck, yes. Faster, Dean, please,” you begged, trying to rock your hips back into him, not that it was doing much due to the grip that he had on you.

“Give me your arms,” Dean ordered, and you quickly let go of the edge of the table and reached out behind your back. Dean grabbed your upper arms and began using them as leverage as he thrusted into you harder and faster.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelped, as Dean hit a part of your insides that was a mix between pleasure and pain. “Dean!” You half-moaned, half-whined, trying to decide if the new angle was painful or enjoyable. You started to try and push your hips further into the table, as to keep Dean from going so deep, but he only followed your movements. “Fuck, Dean, it hurts!” You decided finally, wishing you hadn’t challenged him to fuck you so hard.

“You got a safe word, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you through heavy breaths, as he continued to fuck you hard and fast. He was right, you did have one, but you weren’t experiencing nearly enough pain to be anywhere near using it yet. Dean’s cock hit deep within your walls again.

“Ow, fuck!” You yelped, trying to run your hips away from him again. Dean readjusted his grip on your arms, pinning them down against the table instead of holding them up behind you.

“Either use your safe word or shut up and fuckin’ take it like you asked for,” Dean growled as he leaned in close to your ear. You decided to go with the latter; you knew what you could handle and what was too much, and there was certainly some pleasure mixed in with the way Dean was ramming into you. After a few more seconds, there was almost no pain at all. In fact, Dean was hitting spots you didn’t even know you had, and it was making you scream out in pleasure. Dean reached one hand down between your legs and began rubbing your clit as his thrusts began to feel like they were hitting harder, faster, and deeper than before. You felt the coil in your abdomen begin to tighten, threatening to snap at any moment as Dean continued his motions. You felt your pussy clench around him, causing him to let out a moan. “That’s right, baby, cum for me. Come on my fuckin’ cock,” Dean breathed, as his thrusts got a little sloppier and his fingers remained rubbing circles on your clit. His permission was all you needed to let the coil in you snap, and you all but convulsed as you hit your initial high. Dean kept your hips in place as you rode out your orgasm, thrusting a few more times before you felt his cock twitch inside you, warm spurts of cum coating your walls moments later. Dean practically collapsed on top of you, using his forearms on either side of you to hold himself up as you both caught your breath. He kissed your temple softly, causing you to break out in a smile.

“You’re something else, Dean Winchester, you know that?” You asked, a content sigh leaving your lips.

Dean chuckled. “Right back at ya, Y/N Y/L/N.”

It was then that the both of you heard the bunker’s front door begin to unlock. From where the two of you were, it would only take Sam to walk down the stairs before he’d see the two of you.

“Fuck, here,” Dean breathed, as he shrugged off his flannel and placed it on the table next to you, as your clothes were strewn about the floor and there was no time to pick them up. Dean pulled out of you quickly and you tried your best to stifle a moan as you heard the front door open.

“Hey guys, you find anything?” Sam asked, walking into the bunker. You quickly stood up and turned around, covering yourself with the flannel as Dean put his dick back in his pants and zipped them back up. He was buckling his belt back up when Sam had finally reached the library’s archway, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw what Dean was doing, your clothes in various parts of the room, and Dean’s shirt which you were wearing as a dress. It took him all of three seconds to put the pieces together. “Are you kidding me? Really, Dean? The library!?”

“Hey, she started it!” Dean quickly countered, pointing to you.

You scoffed. “Did not!”

“You put the idea in my head,” Dean teased, looking at you with a grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes and giggled. “Unintentionally!”

“You know, seein’ you in my shirt makes me want to go for round two,” Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully.

“You two are nauseating,” Sam announced, reminding you both that he was still there.

“Whatever, Sammy,” Dean said with a grunt as he lifted you up over his shoulder. You squealed as the motion caught you off guard, but you were thankful that Dean’s flannel was just long enough to cover your ass. “I guess we’ll take it elsewhere,” Dean added, as he walked past his little brother who was still standing in the library’s threshold. You lifted your head up to look at Sam as Dean made his way through the war room and rolled your eyes playfully in reference to Dean’s behavior, hoping Sam wouldn’t take any of this too seriously. You knew you were in the clear when Sam let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head as he looked down at the floor.

“Keep it down, please! I clearly have some research to do!” You heard Sam yell as Dean turned the corner with you still over his shoulder. Dean smirked and smacked your ass, causing you to yelp.

“Dean!” You half laughed, half scolded. “Sorry, Sam! I’ll try to keep him under control!” You yelled back, although all three of you knew that that wasn’t going to happen.