#sex scenes are fine but him being shirtless for a bit is far too much lmaooo

[yanbot]

sad news everyone in the new demo jack's female presenting nipples will be censored

[russiandoll-from-brooklyn]

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony���s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

[mrs-gucci]

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way). 

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property. 

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers. 

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms. 

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight. 

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back. 

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house. 

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him. 

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him. 

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump. 

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more. 

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room. 

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable.  Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence. 

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change. 

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you. 

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging.  “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises. 

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length. 

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance. 

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches. 

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace. 

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly. 

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate. 

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

-

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day. 

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Modern au where feyre and Rhys are roommates and she accidentally kisses him

I Do Bad Things with You

Smut//2486 words

“Gods, do you ever shut up?” Feyre snapped.

Not that she was actually angry. She pissed at herself if anything, for being so fucking wet for her piece-of-shit roommate, even when he was being annoying.

Rhys just smirked. “I was only saying-”

“That maybe next time I should come home earlier so I don’t interrupt your beauty sleep with my loud stomping,” cut in Feyre.

When Rhys had seen her miniskirt and red lipstick, he knew exactly where she was headed. And he had preceded to comment on how loud she had been last time she’d returned from hooking up with some guy - Isaac maybe? - when she had apparently very noisily awoken him in the early hours of the morning.

Rhys winced. “I was only suggesting you try to be a bit more mindful of your surroundings-”

Feyre interrupted once more. “Mindful of my surroundings? Like all the times you’ve brought home some girl and made her scream in the room literally right across from mine? Do you know how hard it is to get to sleep with earbuds in at the loudest volume so you don’t have to hear your annoying roommate fucking some random chick?”

Rhys didn’t even have to decency to look embarrassed. He just smirked that smug smirk of his and said, “They certainly seem to enjoy it, don’t they?”

“Good lord,” Feyre muttered. Though while she may fake irritation, something tight coiled in her gut. Thinking back on the noises those women made, they did seem to enjoy it. And Feyre couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of noises Rhys could draw out of her.

Rhys and Feyre had moved in together totally by accident. Feyre’s best friend Mor had set up this whole situation just to bother her, probably, being Rhys’ cousin. She had thought they could become friends at first, and when he had turned out to be a smirky, egotistical jerk, avoiding him had seemed the better option. But Rhys was always there; helping Feyre with random shit, flirting, bothering her when she told him to piss off, flirting some more...

And now he somehow had the nerve to point out his skills in the bedroom right after criticizing Feyre’s ability to walk without sounding like Bigfoot.

“How about this?” Feyre started. “I’ll remember to tiptoe when I come home. You stop bringing ladies who don’t know how to be quiet into our apartment. And we end this conversation becasue I am really not in the mood right now.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if you also promise to stop being so rude. I’ve only ever been nice to you, Feyre.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Feyre would have felt like shit. She never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings (unless they really deserved it). But from the mischievous twinkle in Rhys’ eyes, she knew he was just trying to provoke her. Bastard.

“Go fuck yourself,” Feyre said flatly, and took a step toward the door. Past Rhys.

And, of course, she tripped over the edge of the rug. Because nothing in this fucking apartment could be easy. Not with him.

Feyre slammed into Rhys with a shriek, and they both hit the ground. Rhys had cushioned Feyre’s fall, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. Not that that’s what she thinking about right now. Not when she fell so hard her face slammed into him. Her lips.

Feyre was kissing Rhysand. And even though she’d imagined this far too many times before, she could not enjoy it. One, because their faces being violently slammed together wasn’t exactly pleasurable. And two, because she was freaked out.

She jolted up into a sitting position. On Rhys. Oh lord, was Feyre really straddling Rhysand Night in the middle of the kitchen floor?

When they’d fallen, limbs had gone flying. It wasn’t just their lips that had accidentally touched. Rhys’ hands were under the bottom of Feyre’s skirt. On her bare ass. And she was literally sitting on his dick.

“Um, sorry,” Feyre squeaked. Her face was definitely bright red. And her ears. And her neck. Any yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t scrambling off of him. She was just sitting on him, with her hands on his chest, paralyzed.

Rhys also seemed to be paralyzed, because his hands were not moving from her ass cheeks. For the first time since Feyre had met him, he actually looked flustered. He was also blushing, and there was a shocked expression on his features.

“You’re fine,” he croaked in reply.

Feyre brain finally started functioning. “Oh gods, I should-”

She stopped speaking and pulled her hands away from Rhys’ chest. He yanked his hands out of her skirt. Just when Feyre was about to slide off of him, however, she felt something. Underneath her.

Rhys was getting hard.

From the panicked look on his face, Feyre knew he realized what she had felt. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re fine,” Feyre said, repeating his earlier words. Her voice was strangely calm, indifferent even to her own ears. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Feyre felt no regret. Only lust coursed through her mind right now.

Rhys blinked. “What?”

“Well I have really wanted you to fuck me for a while, and this whole situation is turning me on, but since that could be nothing and I could end up doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I’m asking. Do you want to have sex with me?” The words were so matter-of-fact. This is it, Feyre realized. This is the breaking point. I’ve finally reached insanity.

That blood-heating smirk found its way back to Rhys’ face, and she knew exactly what his answer was. “How long exactly is a while, darling?”

Feyre placed her hands on Rhys’ chest once more. “Too fucking long.”

He put his hands on her hips, keeping Feyre steady as she started to grind against his erection, needing pressure on that one spot.

“You’re a piece of shit, Rhysand. You know that? You smirk at me and you walk around shirtless all the time like there isn’t a horny girl sharing your apartment and you bring home all those girls like you want me like hear. Like you want me to know what you can do to me. It drives me crazy.” Feyre punctuated this little speech with a relatively hard roll of her hips, making Rhys let out a small groan.

“Of course I was doing it for you,” he murmured. “I wanted you to know what I had to offer.”

“You’re such a dick,” Feyre replied, reaching for the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them.

Once Feyre slung her shirt into the ground, Rhys flipped them. It was so fast, Feyre had no chance to protest (not that she would have), and in a split second, Rhys had her pinned to the floor.

“Surely I’m not the only one here in the business of teasing the other?” Rhys breathed in her ear, his hands tracing patterns on her thighs. “You strut around in those little skirts even when you’re not going out. You think I’ve never had to resist the urge to slam you against the wall?”

Feyre sighed as Rhys started trailing his lips along her neck. “Hmm, maybe we should, oh, um, we’re still on the floor, Rhys.” She didn’t know if what she said was even comprehensible to him, it was so muddled.

Rhys frowned against her neck. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Archeron?”

Feyre frowned as well. “My definition of adventure happens to be different than yours, that’s all. I typically don’t enjoy having sex on a rug that neither of us have vacuumed for a really long time.”

Rhys let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, bringing Feyre with him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, marveling in how easy that had been for him. Of course, she’d noticed how ripped he was. How many hours he spent at the gym. She always noticed.

Feyre slung her arms around his neck. Rhys pulled Feyre’s face back to him as he started walking toward the hall. His lips crushed into hers, and she started grinding against him once more as his tongue parted her lips. The man certainly knew how to multitask.

They reached a room - Feyre’s - and Rhys carefully set her down on the bed. He flipped the lamp on and surveyed the scene in front of him: Feyre in a miniskirt and a barely-there bra, sprawled across the sheets, with her hair fanning across her shoulders.

“Take your clothes off.”

As much as Feyre wanted to do as he said, as much as she wanted to obey, she wasn’t just backing down. Rhys was a pain in the ass and he needed a serious ego check.

“Don’t you want the pleasure?” She asked twirling a strand of hair in her fingers and sliding her tongue across her lips, wetting them.

Rhys frowned. “Take off your clothes.” He only repeated what he’d just said, but there was no room for argument.

Feyre’s breath caught, and she just couldn’t stop herself anymore. She unclasped the bra, then slid out of her skirt. Her panties came next. She tried to move slowly, wanting to tease him, but it was so hard to be patient. The whole process, Rhys just watched, tracing her curves with his eyes.

“Good girl,” he muttered once she finished, and Feyre felt a fire light inside of her. She pressed her thighs together, a pathetic attempt at quenching the ache.

Rhys noted the movement with a twitch of his lips. Then he got on his knees.

Feyre barely suppressed a gasp as Rhys grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He pressed a gentle, teasing kiss against her thigh, and Feyre spread her legs as far as she could.

She was on her elbows, watching him lick a trail up her thigh, still not going where she needed, and Rhys was holding her gaze the entire time.

A smirk was the only warning she got before Rhys dipped his head into her center. Just when Feyre was thinking Rhys had given in, all she got was a light kiss to her clit, the most pleasurable and frustrating sensation she had ever experienced. It was enough to drive her insane.

“Rhys,” Feyre urged, “do something.”

“Do what? This?” Rhys asked, licking a stripe up her center.

Feyre moaned. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And how about this?” Rhys flicked her clit with his forefinger, making Feyre cry out.

“More,” was all she could gasp, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Rhys’ wicked mouth started moving, tasting her, eating her alive. His tongue slid inside of her and Feyre groaned loudly, falling back against the sheets. Her eyes closed and she cried out in ecstasy as a finger entered her, then another.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, gods,” Feyre cried out.

He spoke up, his breath caressing her folds. “Do you like that, darling?”

“Please,” she murmured. “Please make me come.”

“You behave so well,” Rhys commented, rubbing her clit slowly. “I wonder who taught you how to use such good manners.”

Feyre whimpered. A nearly incomprehensible string of pleases kept falling from her mouth, along with curses and cries of his name.

Rhys started pumping his fingers hard, sucking on her clit. He curved his fingers just so and let his tongue dart out and taste her once more, and everything shattered.

Feyre screamed, clenching her thighs together around Rhys’ head. He didn’t seem to mind; he just kept licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, working Feyre through her orgasm.

Once the room stopped shaking and Feyre could see clearly again, she noticed Rhys pulling his clothing off until he was bare before her. She regained enough movement to reach for his cock as he crawled on the bed, wanting to taste him like he had tasted her, but he gently swatted her hand away.

“There’s plenty of time for that later, darling,” Rhys purred, settling over her pinning her arms to the bed.

But Feyre wasn’t giving up. She hooked a leg around his waist and used her momentum to roll them over, so that she was on top.

Rhys grinned, surprised but pleased to let this play out. Feyre kissed his neck, enjoying the contented sigh that came from his mouth. She started moving her mouth up, kissing and licking as she went.

She reached his jawline and made her way to his mouth. Unable to resist, she nipped his lower lip. Rhys growled at her and tightened his grip on her hips, but he didn’t reprimand her further.

Feyre moaned as she felt his cock press against her folds and she scrambled off of him, reaching in her nightstand drawer to grab a condom. Turning back to Rhys, she expertly rolled the condom on his length while he tweaked her nipple, making her usually-steady fingers fumble.

Feyre climbed back on top and lifted her hips over Rhys’ cock. He steadied her with his hands on her waist, murmuring a “good girl” as she lowered herself. They both sighed in pleasure as Feyre slowly sunk down all the way, fully sitting on him now.

Rhys let out a groan as Feyre started to rock her hips, adjusting to his size. She rested her hands on his chest and started moving more, really riding him now.

“You look so hot bouncing on my cock,” Rhys praised, slamming his hips up into hers.

Feyre moaned loudly, digging her nails into his skin. She tried to move faster, harder, seeking another orgasm, desperate for release.

Rhys flipped them, not stopping the movements of his hips. He thrusted harder, fully in control now. Feyre was moaning nonstop, propably leaving small scratches all over his back. Rhys seemed to relish in the sensation, thrusting harder.

She moved one hand between their bodies, circling her own clit. Feyre moaned and pressed harder, craving release.

One more thrust from Rhys had Feyre tumbling off that cliff, groaning as she went. Her whole body shook, and Rhys kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good. I’m almost there.” Feyre’s orgasm was drawn out even further at the sound of Rhys’ commending tone, loving the sound of him taking to her.

Feyre felt Rhys’ cock twitch as he found his own release, sighing against her shoulder. He withdrew from Feyre’s entrance and sat back. She was barely conscious as Rhys took care of the condom and walked back over to her.

Rhys leaned down resting his lips against her ear. “I hope you sleep well, darling,” he whispered with that smug tone of his.

And then Feyre drifted off to sleep, hardly registering the sound of Rhys padding out of her room.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 4)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: some awkwardness, and almost-nudity, and a sex scene but not the kind you’re expecting (lol) just fluff y’all!

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll​

Mrs. Alberti asking you for the rent made you realize a month had passed.  You couldn’t tell if it had gone by quickly or slowly; a little of both, perhaps.

You pulled the finished page from your typewriter and placed it in the stack.  You were finally done with the first chapter; pretty good for a month of time to work, incredible for how distracted you’d been.  Still, as you flipped through the pages you’d worked on, you appreciated that this was simply the very beginning of a very early draft.  You realized you should probably write the ending next, as that was usually how you handled a mystery like this, but you were compelled to try a different method this time and see if you could get the first draft done chronologically.  You got the sense that this story wasn’t going to end the way you’d thought it would when you’d started it...

Your evening jog took a new path this time, one which happened to run right past the smaller cottage that Mrs. Alberti inhabited.  You noticed her windows were open— as they should be on a day as nice as this— and for a second you glanced and saw someone inside…

Wait, is that… Arnold Schwarzenegger?

With a chuckle, you realized that you were seeing the TV.  As you ran further ahead, the angle changed to show it was Sebastian sitting on the end of her bed and watching it.  She’d mentioned that she was going out for groceries today… was he just hanging out in there to get some TV time, or was he taking a break from something he’d been doing for her?

This pressing question needed answers ASAP.  The only solution now was to go inside and talk to him, of course.

His eyes stayed glued on the screen even as you stepped into the house and pushed open the creaky old door to the bedroom.  Seeing the TV again, you realized that this wasn’t just any old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie— it was the best Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.

“Are you watching Terminator?” you asked with incredulous joy, and he finally turned around.

“Da!” he beamed.  “Terminatorul,” he explained, pointing to the television.  “Ma voi intoarce,” he mimicked in a deep voice.

“I’ll be back!” you translated as you realized he was quoting the most iconic line, sitting down next to him on the foot of the bed and watching the movie as well.

It was dubbed in Romanian— technically you couldn’t tell that it was Romanian just by hearing it, but you could tell based on how entranced Sebastian was by it; he must’ve understood what was going on.  The best part was that you understood it too, based mainly on context clues and your vague memory of the movie.  Being able to share something with him was unexpectedly gratifying.    

He was over halfway in, and you were trying to figure out what was going on now; this scene was all a conversation, so it was all lost on you.  Sarah Connor and what’s-his-face talking about something, presumably about how her son was the future leader of the resistance against the machines.  You realized that this was a sort of strange movie.  And why was the guy shirtless for seemingly no reason?  No wonder Sebastian likes this movie, this guy must be his role model, you thought as you chuckled to yourself.

Okay, they weren’t talking anymore… they were kissing.  That’s fine— good for them right?  It’s not weird to watch this right next to Sebastian… although it is weird that they’re still kissing...

Oh god.  This movie has a sex scene?  Why didn’t you remember this part?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him.  But that just meant you were staring down the screen, and didn’t that make it seem like you were really into Linda Hamilton getting sensually railed?  So you glanced to him to break the tension and nope, that definitely made it worse as you both suddenly made eye contact and then instantly looked away.  Your heart was racing for no particularly good reason, and your palms were all sweaty— just in time for his hand to brush against yours.  You didn’t want to jerk away for fear of seeming flighty.  Nothing wrong with the side of his hand touching yours, right?

Well, a lot of things were wrong with it, specifically the way that it was making your breaths short and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you didn’t want him to know any of that so you stayed still.

It seemed to go on forever, and it would’ve been laughably cheesy if you were with anyone else.  Normally, you had no trouble at all laughing with Sebastian, but this was different.  

“Această parte este... interesantă…” Sebastian mumbled.  

“I didn’t realize it was going to go on this long,” you replied, scratching the back of your neck.  “It’s probably good to break the silen— oh shit, that’s a boob!” you gasped.  “They can show this on TV?!”

Sebastian laughed a bit, apparently noticing how your change in tone conveniently coincided with the nip-slip.  

Just a few more minutes of excruciating awkwardness and it was over; you both let out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief when it ended.

“I thought it would never end,” you chuckled nervously.

“Nu fi gelos, ea nu este nimic în comparație cu tine,” he replied, still looking at you even though you were looking anywhere but back at him.  You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again after that— not that it had ever been easy for you.  But now that he was staring at you it felt even weirder to not look back.  So you did, just for a second, only to be startled by the sound of the bedroom door opening.

You jumped up from the bed, and Sebastian turned as well.

“Oh!” Mrs. Alberti gasped.  “I didn’t expect to see… both of you in here.”

“Ți-am răsturnat salteaua și ți-am schimbat așternutul,” Sebastian offered as he jumped up, motioning to the bed quickly.  What could he possibly mean by that?

“We were just watching some TV,” you explained.

“Uh huh,” Mrs. Alberti smiled.  “Well, Sebastian, that’ll be all, thank you,” she dismissed him with a smile and a little bow.  

“Mulțumesc. Bună seara,” Sebastian bowed in return, nodding at you before scurrying out of the room.  You started to leave as well, but Mrs. Alberti stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, were you two really just watching TV?” she asked quietly, eyebrow raised in question.

“Um, yeah…” you replied, confused.

“Then why did you both jump up like I was interrupting something important?  Seriously, I was concerned you were in the middle of ruining the sheets he’d just put on for me.”

You choked but broke into an awkward grin.  “Uh, I’m not sure.  I guess you just startled us.”

“Yes, well, it’s my room, so you maybe shouldn’t be so surprised when I show up there next time.  You two have the whole house to yourselves, not sure why you had to come all the way over here—”

“Mrs. Alberti, really, it’s not like that,” you assured.

She squinted as she leaned in closer, examining your face.  With her incredibly short stature, she had to pull you down towards her to get a better look.  “Hmph,” she frowned suddenly, “I don’t think you’re lying.  Honestly?  I sort of wish you were.”

“Wh— why?” you stammered.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I suppose I thought you two would make a handsome couple.”

“Yeah, well, he’d be doing most of the heavy lifting in that department,” you chuckled.

“You speak poorly of yourself too often,” she frowned again, slapping you on the shoulder.  “You’re perfectly deserving of someone like Sebastian.”

“Well, that’s sort of irrelevant, isn’t it?  We don’t even speak the same language,” you reminded her firmly.

“Did you and your ex-husband speak the same language?” 

You stopped, straightening up and looking back at her with wide eyes.

“I’m old,” she explained with a glimmer in her eye, “but I’m not stupid.  And I’m sorry that you’re going through that.”

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled, still shell shocked from her deduction and from hearing someone refer to your husband as your ex-husband for the first time.  You figured you should get into that habit soon, but it was difficult to imagine.  Even as much as you’d loved being here so far, part of you imagined that it was just a vacation, and soon you’d go home and go back to the life you’d had.  Of course you would go back home someday, it wasn’t like you were moving to the Hungarian countryside, but the home you’d be going back to was going to be entirely unrecognizable to you.  “And, to answer your question,” you continued, “of course my hu— ex-husband spoke English…”

Mrs. Alberti laughed, but in a sad way.  It was the saddest you’d seen her since you’d arrived, even more than when she’d told you about Mr. Alberti’s passing.  “Sweetheart,” she sighed, “obviously you both spoke English.  But I don’t think you spoke the same language at all.”

You furrowed your brows as you pondered that.  You’d known what she meant the first time she said it, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to accept it.  Mostly because it made you immediately realize that she was right about your marriage.  If only she’d thought to tell you before it had ended the way it did.

“Goodnight,” she smiled, stepping past you as you left her room, and her house, and stepped into the night.

You usually worked in your room, but it was feeling a little extra musty this morning so you decided to haul your typewriter to the lakeside and work in the sunshine and fresh air.  You could’ve asked Sebastian to lift it for you, but frankly, you'd been hoping to avoid Sebastian as he had been the biggest barrier to your writing progress so far.  And yet, with your luck, of course he would appear— and not to garden or hammer or do anything like that, but simply to bring you coffee.

"Cafea," he smiled as he offered you the mug.

You accepted it with a smile of your own, although you wondered if he could tell you were nervous.  "Thank you—”

You were cut off by him lifting your empty mug from this morning, which had been holding down all of your completed pages.  The wind inconveniently picked up at that moment, and instantly the pages were swept into the air and right towards the lake.

"Shit!" you yelped as you lept up, pushing him aside to run to the pier.  Still, you couldn't even get close to catching any of them, and watched helplessly as they fell into the water.

You felt yourself be shoved away and didn't realize until he was in the water that it was Sebastian, diving past you to swim after your papers.

"No, don't— it's not worth it!” you called out, but he ignored you, paddling ahead with all the determination and speed of a professional swimmer— maybe he was one before he did this, you wouldn’t know.  You chewed your nails and felt horrifically guilty for all the work he was doing, and with a burst of foreign courage, you found yourself shirking your cardigan and shirt to join him.  Maybe he didn’t mind getting his clothes wet with dirty lake water, but you did.  

As you shimmied your skirt down, he looked back at you and his eyes went a little wide.  When you woke up this morning, you had no intentions of stripping in front of Sebastian, let alone near-skinny dipping with him, but then again, you hadn’t planned on half your novel blowing away either.  

You tossed your clothes aside and took one last stabilizing breath before diving in.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” you screeched once your head was back above the surface, and you heard him laughing.  You weren’t particularly in a laughing mood as you tried to grab the soaked papers around you.

“Arăți ca o pisică care a căzut în cadă,” he chuckled as he swam closer again, holding a ball of wet parchment in his hand and grabbing a few more on the way.

After fishing a few final pages out of the reeds, the two of you awkwardly walked up to the shore.  Now that you were in your underwear with the wind blowing on you, you were jealous of his wet clothes which, while doing almost nothing, did at least shield him from the elements.

You dashed into the cottage side-by-side, like kids racing down the street— though really it was just a matter of self preservation.  When you did make it inside, you started to lay the papers flat on the table to at least start the drying process; you hadn’t even realized he’d left the room until he came back and wrapped a fluffy towel around you, giving you one of those gentle smiles that made your heart just melt.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, noticing the way his hands rested on your shoulders longer than they needed to.  Even through the terrycloth his hands felt strong, and warm, and his touch made you shiver in a way totally irrelevant to the cold.

“Cu plăcere,” he replied.

“It’s a shame you can’t understand me,” you sighed.  Only as you said it aloud did you realize that he did understand you; sure, he didn’t understand the words you were speaking, but, in a way no one else had before, he understood you.  Somehow.

“Nu vorbesc engleza, dar înțeleg limba iubirii,” he spoke softly, nearly a whisper.  “Și cred că înțelegeți și voi asta.”

Even with no idea what he was saying, the way that he was looking at you said even more.  You wanted to kiss him more than you'd wanted anything in a long time, but even in that wretchedly perfect moment you knew it wasn't worth the trouble.  First of all, you couldn't be sure that he felt anywhere near the same way about you.  Secondly, even if he did, this was exactly the wrong time— and place, now that you thought about it— to be starting something.  Thirdly, he probably didn't want to start something at all!  He was just a nice young man who did exceptionally stupid things in order to make you happy.  That's normal handyman stuff, right?

'Odd jobs,' that's what Mrs. Alberti had said he did for her, and for you by extension as a guest in her place.

"Cafea?" Sebastian offered you, stepping back towards the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you," you nodded quickly, smiling at him.  He smiled back and carded his fingers through his damp hair before disappearing into the kitchen to start a fresh pot.

Odd jobs indeed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In the Neighbourhood

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, very lightly edited

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After your grandmother breaks her hip, you volunteer to look after her as she recovers but her neighbour is a bit too friendly.

Note: @lokislastlove​ thinks I won’t call her out anymore but I’m calling her out and you should too. Always blame her.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your grandmother’s house never changed. Nestled between two larger homes and with grass as green as the next, it was as perfect as any along the suburban sprawl. Inside, the same framed pictures of your mother and your aunt and uncle, those of you, your siblings, and your cousins, and family members you only saw at reunions. All of them far away. All of them keeping her company only in the still images. None of them coming to care for her; none but you.

You didn’t mind so much. With two degrees under your belt, you were ready to start your novel as you pondered a third. Your online transcription job was easy enough to travel with and you loved your grandmother. The least you could do was help her out in her recovery. A broken hip but otherwise okay. She couldn’t do much from her wheelchair and you feared a worse injury if she tried.

You moved in on a Sunday. The family next door, the Barbers, were the perfect picture of a suburban clan. Andy introduced himself and his wife, Laurie, and their quiet son, Jacob. Then they asked if your grandmother, Lucille, was coming to their barbecue that afternoon and invited you along with her. Your grandmother confirmed that she didn’t want to miss out on Laurie’s potato salad because she’d tripped on a rug.

So you wheeled her over, careful as the grass slowed the chair, and you angled her through the open gate. You seemed to be the last to arrive. The air smelled of searing beef and swirled with the buzz of voices. You stood behind your grandmother’s chair as you looked around nervously and a plump woman with short curly white hair approached.

“Darla!” You grandmother greeted. “You’re back from your little getaway.”

“Arn was keen to come home,” The woman smiled up at you and back to your grandmother. “I heard you had a bit of an incident.”

“Oh, still spry, but the damn doctor has me ‘takin’ it easy’,” You grandma sneered. “I’ll be up at it before long. This is my granddaughter, you remember her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Darla smiled though you barely remembered her. “So sweet of you to come down to look after our Lucille.”

“It’s nothing,” You said. “I owe her. I spent too many holidays on campus.”

“That you did,” Your grandmother chided. “But do go on and socialise, dear. There must be someone here your own age. Or closer to. You can’t be lettin’ yourself get caught up with us old biddies.”

“I’m fine,” You chuckled. “Really.”

“You go. Get something to drink.” You grandmother snapped her fingers. “Mingle!”

You huffed but left her with Darla and another woman, you were certain her name was Betty, passed you on her way to join them. You looked around. The wives were in their clusters and the men drank from brown bottles as they laughed and talked about sports. You didn’t know about children or baseball. 

You went to the end of the table, just by the barbecue, a cooler open and waited as a young boy claimed a can of Orange Crush. You reached inside and took out a grape soda. The lid of the barbecue closed and you turned to face its master; Andy smiled as you blinked at him.

“That’s the kid’s cooler,” He said. “There’s a mini fridge in the garage if you want something stronger.”

“I’m good with this,” You cracked the can. 

“I thought you were a college girl,” He said as he set down his long spatula.

“Graduated.” You assured him. “Never was big on the scene though.”

“Really?” He lifted a brow. “I kinda miss it.” He stepped around the barbecue, closer to you. “It was a while ago now but it was fun. You know,” He put his hands on his hips as he looked across the yard. “I was in a frat with Carson over there,” He nodded to skinny man holding a bottle of water amid the sea of brown glass. “We got in quite a bit of trouble. Maybe I wrote a few of my exams drunk but didn’t do much harm.”

“Oh yeah?” You said dully. “What do you do now?”

“Law. Assistant district attorney.” He preened. “But don’t worry, I can still have fun.”

He winked and you squinted at him. He was an old man trying to relate to a youth. There was what, ten, fifteen years between you? Wasn’t that much, really, and yet it was.

“Legal fun,” You suggested.

“Well, the immoral isn’t always illegal,” He mused. “So… Miss Graduate, you have a job lined up?”

“I work online for now but I’m writing, too.” You shrugged. “Nothing fancy but it’ll do for the time being. Until my grandma’s better.”

“That’s a nice thing you’re doing,” He said. “You know, not a lot of people I know my age would drop everything to go care for family.”

“Least I can do,” You sipped from the can. “She always did make the best lemon meringue. It has its perks.”

He chuckled and backed up as he grabbed the spatula again and opened the barbecue.

“Offer stands,” He called over the smoke. “Beer’s in the garage.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slowly walked away. This was like that party you’d spent hiding on the porch; awkward as hell.

🏡

The first two weeks passed swiftly. You woke up, made breakfast for your grandmother, her usual oatmeal and tea, then you spent a few hours working online, then lunch, an hour of writing, a walk through the neighbourhood, some alone time, dinner, and then some nightly crime dramas with your grandmother. Each day was identical to the last and you felt the vaunted slog of suburban life.

It was Saturday. You needed to get out. Your grandmother even encouraged it. A few hours at the bar, drinking, dancing, you returned with a guy, Gabe, you met there, hushing him as you snuck him in the front door. 

The house was dark as you climbed the stairs carefully and ushered Gabe into your bedroom. You closed the door and grabbed him as you stumbled to the bed. It was messy, hurried, and desperate. Entirely regrettable as you laid staring out the window at the sky after. You didn’t have time to ask him to leave before he started snoring.

You slept for a few hours and woke as the sun began to rise. You poked the stranger you knew as Gabe until he woke up and you threw his clothes at him before you dressed. You peeked into the hall and waved him out behind you. You led him down the stairs and to the front door. He left you with some empty nicety and you hid your wince. It wasn’t your first one night stand but it was definitely the worst.

“Fun night?” You turned as Andy descended the steps of his porch and opened his car door.

“You work on Sundays?” You grumbled. You hoped he hadn’t seen your regret walking away.

“Not usually but I got some hours to make up.” He dropped his briefcase in the back seat and closed the door. “I know that guy. Pretty sure he’s still on probation for the molly he was dealing at the mechanics.”

“Ugh, no.” You covered your face. “You saw?”

“I got a bit curious as I was finishing my coffee.” He pointed to the window with lacy curtains. “Great view just above the sink.”

“So you’re one of those neighbours?” You crossed your arms.

“I seem nosy but really I’m just looking out for you.” He opened the driver’s side door and planted his hand on the roof of the car. “Look, you don’t know the people around here. I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I won’t be seeing him again.” You retreated to the door and stopped there. “Boring, to say the least.”

“Heh,” Andy scoffed. “Really?”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside, closing the door with a snap. You went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Hey, grandma,” You called as you began to climb. “You ready to get up?”

🏡

At the end of the next week, you took your grandmother to her check up. Her recovery was on track but she had a long way to go. The doctor was optimistic that at her next appointment, she’d be ready to use her walker more often.

As you helped her out of the car and got her settled in her chair, you ignored the roar of the mower in the next yard. You’d seen Andy as you drove up. He was pushing the machine back and forth across his already perfectly manicured yard; shirtless. As you turned to push your grandmother up the walk, you couldn’t help but notice that he was in great shape for his age. For any age, really.

“Hey,” He yelled over the motor and shut it down. “How’s it going, ladies?”

“Andy,” Your grandmother chimed. “Great! Doc says I’m doing well.”

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, still slightly embarrassed over your last interaction with the man.

“Well, seeing as I’m already out here and you already had such a busy day, I could do your lawn while I’m at it?” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and you quickly tore your eyes away from his chest. 

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Your grandma giggled. “It’s so hot out here.”

“I don’t mind,” He insisted. “Laurie’s gone to see her parents with Jacob so I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t ya?” Your grandmother shook her hand. “Fine! Sweetie,” She reached back and tapped your hand. “Let’s go make some lemonade for this young man so he doesn’t overheat.”

Andy smiled and you nodded at him awkwardly. You wheeled your grandmother up the newly installed ramp and inside. She ordered you to the kitchen and directed you to the lemons hidden in the crisper.

“The juicer is just under there.” She pointed to the cupboard, “And you’ll want to add some sugar.”

“I know how to make lemonade, grandma,” You said as you pulled out the pitcher.

“That Andy’s a nice man,” She said. “So helpful… handsome too. It’s too bad you’re so young… and he’s so married.”

“Stop,” You warned. “You said the same thing about your doctor.”

“Yes, but he’s a doctor. He’s rich.” She snickered. “And not married, just not into your type.”

“Grandma,” You snipped. “Really.”

“I don’t know how your mother ended up with you.” She said. “She was such a little troublemaker.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard,” You said as you washed the lemon juice from your hands and added water and sugar to the pitcher. “I think her stories were more a warning.”

“Too smart for your own good,” She tutted as you mixed the lemonade.

You went to the cupboard and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer as you set a glass on the counter. You poured the lemonade and gave her a sour look. 

“You think you can look after yourself for a few minutes?” You asked dryly.

“Girlie, I was taking care of you while you were in diapers,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“I don’t wear diapers,” She hissed as you neared the door. “Yet.”

You went out the front door as Andy pushed the mower across the yard just along the walkway. He stopped and looked over at you. He shut down the motor again and neared you as you came down the steps to hold out the glass. He thanked you and took a big gulp before he handed it back.

“You know, I didn’t mean anything,” He said. “The other day. Sometimes… I say stuff without thinking.”

“It’s… whatever.” You shrugged and set the glass on the rail of the porch. “No hard feelings.”

“I just got a hot tub. Just gotta hook it up and it’s ready to go.” He said. “You should stop by later. Get a soak in.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You stood at the top of the steps. “I don’t wanna leave grandma all alone. She wants to watch Casablanca tonight. I promised we would.”

“Maybe another night.” He offered. “You work so hard. You deserve a break.”

“Maybe,” You said evasively as you turned and crossed the porch. You glanced back as you opened the door and he was still looking at you.

“Lemonade’s good.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

🏡

You finished lunch and left your grandmother to her puzzle at the dining room table. You went upstairs to change the shirt you’d spilled mustard down; it was all you could smell. You tore off your shirt and tossed it on the bed. You rounded the bed to the dresser that sat just below the window and opened the draw. Movement caught your eye and you looked up across the space between yards.

Andy’s eyes met yours through the windows. You’d never realised they were adjacent, let alone so easy to see through. He wore a towel around his waist, freshly showered and his gaze strayed for just a moment. You blanched and pulled out a shirt and covered yourself with it. He smirked and tilted his head. Then he winked and a shiver went through you.

You grabbed the curtain and closed it so forcefully you nearly bent the rod. You backed away and put the shirt on properly. Surely, he was being funny. A tense, awkward moment. What else could he do but make a joke? Well, it wasn’t a very good one.

🏡

You stayed inside for the better part of a week. Aside from your walks with your grandmother and a trip to the grocery store, you kept your curtains closed, and hid yourself away. Maybe you’d built it up in your mind but you were just set off-kilter by the wordless interaction. Since, you felt as though you’d been walking a tightrope, too afraid to look down.

But that night, your grandmother wanted to sit outside. It was warm and the nights were shorter; later. You wheeled her out, a book on her lap, and as you made to skirt back inside, he appeared. Andy had impeccable timing. It made you wonder if he was watching you; if he had been for much longer than you knew. Well, now you were just being paranoid.

“Hey,” He stood at the edge of the yard. “Beautiful night.”

“Sure is,” You grandma replied. “I’ve got a new book and I’m ready to enjoy the breeze.”

“Oh, a new book? What’s it about?” He asked as he neared tentatively.

“Another scary one.” She cracked the cover. “Or so I hear. Skinwalkers taking over a whole city.”

“Ah, spooky,” He commented and looked at you. “And you?”

“Writing. Inside.” You said evenly.

“I figured since it was so nice, I was finally gonna try out my new Jacuzzi,” He said. “I just… I did promise you a soak so I thought maybe--”

“Eh, I don’t know.” You neared the door. “I really should try to get some writing done.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Your grandmother intoned. “You’ve been on that computer all day. You should go, relax.”

“Really, I--”

“Laurie might join us. She’s inside doing some work.” He piped up. “She wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Go on! I’m getting sick of ya anyway,” Your grandmother snorted. “You could stand to loosen up.”

“Grandma,” You huffed.

“Go get changed,” She ordered and smiled at Andy. “She’ll be over shortly.”

You blinked and tried to hide your irritation. You went inside before Andy could notice and you stormed upstairs. You weren’t even sure you’d packed a suit. You searched through the dresser. The curtains were still drawn tight. You found your old pink bikini with the white flowers. Really? It had to be that one?

You changed, reluctantly. It couldn’t have covered less of you. You found a tee shirt and pulled it over. You descended the stairs again and stepped out on the porch.

“Thanks for that, grandma.” You scowled.

“I can see why you were never popular,” She laughed. “Go. Have fun. This old lady can handle herself.”

You stomped down the steps beside the ramp and stopped at the border of the yards. You sighed and went to the gate, it was open in expectation of you. You heard the whir of jets before you entered. Andy was just beside the hot tub, testing the temperature with his hand as you stood across from him. He looked up and gave a crooked smirk.

“Andy,” The back door opened and Laurie appeared. “Oh, hey.” She smiled at you before turning back to her husband. “I’m gonna pass. Gina’s not going to make it in tomorrow so looks like I’ll be up all night.”

“Damn, that’s too bad,” Andy said. “More tub for us I guess.”

“Yes, love you too,” She said dryly. “You enjoy yourself. And don’t leave that thing on all night.”

“Yes, honey,” He said before she shut the door. “Love you.”

You swallowed. Your mouth was dry. Maybe you had been a bit presumptuous. Andy climbed into the jacuzzi and lowered himself into the warm water with a sigh. You hesitated to get closer but you did. He watched you, expectantly. You grabbed the edge and tried to will yourself in.

“You’re wearing that?” He nodded to your tee.

“Yeah,” You lifted your leg over the side.

“You don’t gotta be shy,” He grinned.

You paused and frowned at him.

“I’m joking,” He said. “The other day. That was… funny. Bad timing.”

“Mhmm,” You drew your other leg over and carefully sat.

“You met any more cute guys?” He asked suddenly. You squinted.

“What?” 

“Not much to do around here, you know? Pretty boring.”

“No. I don’t--” You sputtered. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Once my grandma’s better, I’ll be going.”

“Still, it’s lonely.” He said softly. 

“What do you care?” You asked, harsher than intended. 

He was quiet. He leaned back and looked over at the house then back to you. He exhaled and spread his arms over the edge.

“So… that toy you hide in your night table? You always use it or you ever just… feel yourself?”

Your heart sank. You felt as if you would choke on air. Had you imagined his words?

“What did you just--”

“Took you long enough to catch on,” He said. “Got a good view of you when I can’t sleep but… not anymore. Too bad.”

“Andy,” You stood and the water splashed around you. “You-- You’re-- Laurie, she--”

“I haven’t fucked her in months. This is what she does.” He sat forward and caught your hand. “She works. All the time. I try and she… just doesn’t want to.”

“Let me go.” You struggled with him. “You’re disgusting. You’re married!”

“Me? Fucking awful some young girl strolls into town and tries to seduce a married man? What would grandma think? And Laurie? She’s not one to sit back and be humiliated.” He tugged on you. “I have a reputation around here. You’re just a stranger, and apparently one, who fucks strangers.”

“What are you talking about?” You nearly slipped as he spun you back to him. “You’ve been watching me and--”

“I’m just a neighbour looking out for you,” He pulled even harder and your feet slid across the bottom of the jacuzzi, forcing you to catch yourself on him. “Like I do all my neighbours. They would confirm as much.”

“Get--” You grabbed his arm as it snaked around you. “Andy! Laurie--”

“Doesn’t give a fuck and if she came out, well, she’d only realise what’s she’s pushed me to.” 

You wriggled as he held you to him. He drew your leg over his so that you straddled his lap. You pushed on his chest and grunted.

“You keep it up and everyone will hear. Even sweet old nana.” He snarled. “I saw you looking at me that day… when you brought me lemonade.”

“No, no,” You rasped.

“I’m old, not that old,” He purred. “As you can obviously see.”

“Let me go. Please.” You begged. He was too strong and your arms only ached from pushing against him. “Andy--”

“Shhh,” He grabbed your chin with his wet hand and pulled you close until your lips almost met his. “In this town, rumours travel. It might be old news that you left a bar with that dumb kid but now, it’s evidence.” His hand slipped down your neck and squeezed. “Such a bad girl.”

“No one would--”

“They have no reason not to believe me,” He rolled up your wet shirt with his other hand. “Annie across the street, she likes gossip. She’s seen you flirting with me, at least that’s how she told it to Laurie but you know, my wife just laughs it off. And now she’s no doubt seen you come into my backyard in just this.” He pulled your shirt higher. “And her mind is going wild.”

“I can’t--”

“How long did he last? A minute? Less?” He snarled and his other hand slipped down to draw your shirt up. You kept your arms down as you tried to resist. “Bet you could wait to use your little toy.”

“Stop,” You pleaded.

“Get your arms up.” His voice was deep and dangerous. “And stop your whining.”

You stopped and stared at him. His blue eyes burned into yours and sent a shiver through you. His fingertips pinched your hips as they crawled under your shirt and he pushed it higher.

“You don’t shut up and someone will hear, sweetie,” He warned. “Up.”

He tugged until you raised your arms. A wave of bile rose in your chest and you let him peel away your wet shirt and reveal the skimpy bikini beneath. He dropped the cotton over the side of the tub and his hands grazed the triangles of your top.

“Cute,” He hummed. “You hiding this from me?”

You were quiet, sickened. With him, with yourself. You knew you couldn’t fight, wouldn’t. You remembered the barbecue and how you’d been the odd one out. Recalled how Andy had talked to almost every person there. Everyone loved him and no one knew you.

“Mmm mm mm,” His fingertips walked around your neck and he picked at the knot behind your neck. The straps loosened and he let your top fall and expose your chest. 

He bent to bury his face against you and nibbled along your tits. You looked, startled, to the back door. It was still shut. A light glow from a bedroom above and the distant beat of music escaped through the slightly opened bedroom window. Another light died on the first floor and was replaced by a second on the top floor, reflecting against yours on the other side. 

You quivered as Andy took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. You felt it in your core as his hand cupped your other tit. He reached beneath you and played with the edge of your bottom. He drew you back as he leaned against the side of the tub and lifted his pelvis, and you with him. He tugged on his shorts and sat back down.

You felt hollow and a cloud of panic filled your stomach. You struggled against you and he bit you. You squeaked as his teeth threatened to break the skin and stilled. He parted and looked up at you.

“Be a good girl,” He felt beneath you and began to stroke himself.

“Please--”

“Shhh,” He turned his hand and hooked his fingers in your bottoms, pulling them aside. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He rubbed his tip against your folds. “It’ll be good.” He drew you to him and angled you over his dick. “Better than ever before.”

He forced you down and your lips formed an o as he entered you. You latched onto his shoulders without thinking and he pushed you to his limit. His lips and teeth returned to your chest as he once more began to toy with you. You quivered as he began to rock your hips.

The water swished around you, swirling and slapping against your skin. You held your breath as you tried not to cry out. You hissed as you dug your nails into his shoulders and let him guide you. Despite yourself, despite everything, it felt good. It felt wonderful. He was right and you were weak.

“You like that?” He nuzzled your throat. “Is this what you think of at night, huh?”

You bit your lip as he kneaded your hips and kept your moving.

“I think of it all the time,” He muttered. “All the time. Maybe…” His breath caught and he groaned. “Maybe I could offer to take you grocery shopping, hmm? We could have some fun in the car…”

“Andy…” You whimpered. “No, we can’t-- not again…”

You grasped his wrists and tried to push yourself off of him. A semblance of sanity returned to you as you looked him in the face. His eyes were dilated and dusky. He was entranced; incorrigible. You struggled as he held you down.

“This is wrong--”

He shoved you off him as his lip curled. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the other side of the tub. The water splashed as he stood behind you and grabbed your arm. He turned you over and pushed you over the siding, a jet blowing against your pelvis.

“Doesn’t feel wrong to me.” He growled.

He held you down with a large hand between your shoulders as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. He pressed against you and searched for your entrance, swiftly impaling you. You choked down a mewl as your hips crashed into the wall of the tub. He leaned his weight on you entirely as he rutted into you without relent. You were certain someone would hear the clapping of flesh or the stir of water all around.

“You’ll do what I want, when I want,” He sneered. “And from what I can tell, you’ll like it.”

“Andy--” Your voice fizzled as the pressure mixed with the steady stream of the jet as it hit your cunt. 

You held in a moan as you hung over the side of the tub, the blood pounding in your head as you panted wildly. You covered your mouth, afraid you would cry out as the coil inside you twisted and twisted. Your legs quaked as you orgasmed.

Andy’s hand gripped your hips and he pulled you back against him, again and again, using your body easily. You slid back and forth over the side and he bent over you, crushing you against the tub. He growled in your ear and his thrust jolted your body.

He pulled out suddenly, still looming over you as he stroked himself against your bikini and pressed his damp beard to your cheek as he shuddered. His hot cum spilled out onto the wet fabric and dripped down your thigh as he eased himself through his climax. He sighed and pushed himself from atop you, falling back into the water heavily.

You stayed as you were for a moment. Stunned. Shakily you stood and fixed your top and pulled your bottom straight. You couldn’t look at him. You climbed out of the tub and walked unsteadily across the grass.

“Ah, that was relaxing,” He said. “Come back anytime.”

You ignored him and continued onto the gate.

“Oh, and it’s supposed to be a cool night,” He called after you. “You should keep your window open.”

You slipped through and the gate creaked behind you and closed with a metallic click. You shivered as you kept to the side of your grandma’s house and entered through the back. You didn’t want anyone to see; you were certain they would know if they did.

[maliby]

Taste of Little | pjm (M)

↬ Pairing: Jimin x Fem Reader ↬ Story Genre: fluff with a spread of smut ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scene, mentions of cheating, body insecurities ↬ Word count: 4.2K ↬ Summary: It was yours and your boyfriend Jimin’s first anniversary, aka the night you were finally going to have sex. Every thing was going fine until he simply leaves you high and dry; turns out Jimin is hiding a little secret that he’s too scared to tell you. Will your love for him be bigger than that?

                               For: The Intimacy Anthology Project

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” A handsome stranger asked as he approached your table that was conveniently close to the exit so you could bolt if anything went wrong.

“Yes, I am, and you must be Jimin right?” You stated as you looked at the black hoody Jimin said he’d be wearing.

“Yes,” he smiled. His smile was so sweet and warm that you swore he could make a rockfall in love with him just with that smile alone.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

It’s been exactly one year today since you first met Jimin at the same cafe you were in right now - the ‘Aroma Mocha’. 

At first, when your friend and roommate Jenna had set you up to go on a blind date with him you didn’t really want to go. The reason was that you had sworn off guys ever since your last relationship ended with your ex choking on another man’s dick on your couch wearing your lingerie. So, when your friend came up with the suggestion of getting back out there you had shut her down immediately. It wasn’t until you lost some stupid bet over Jenna banging an idol that you were “obliged” to go on a date with her coworker Jimin (something that now made you thank your lucky stars every day).

“You’re late mister,” you pointed to your watch as your handsome boyfriend walked in in a rush.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said before tenderly kissing your lips. “Happy anniversary,” the smile on his lips reminded you of the very first time he smiled at you, in this very cafe, and, the very first time he ever made your heart race.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Namjoon was attempting to cook dinner for Jin and he almost sliced his finger off so I had to take him to the hospital,” he took off his denim jacket as he sat opposite you. He then picked up the menu and looked through it, searching for something to order.

“I swear Namjoon needs a babysitter, doesn’t he know he’s not allowed near sharp objects without supervision?”

“He wanted to surprise his boyfriend but, if you want my opinion, Jin’s lucky he wasn’t able to finish that monstrosity of a meal.”

You chuckled. “Well, Namjoon isn’t the only person who prepared a surprise for their boyfriend,” you smirked, amused with his curious expression.

“Oh yeah? What did my beautiful girlfriend prepare for me?”

“Well, if I told you now it wouldn’t really be a surprise now would it?” You reached over the table and pressed a small kiss on his lips.

Jimin and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first, it didn’t really bother you much because you were not one to rush things and, since Jimin was a little bit shy, you wanted to respect him but now you were starting to second guess yourself. Your inner voice kept whispering you thoughts like: “he doesn’t find you physically attractive” or “he’s cheating on you with other people”, something you admit may come from the trauma of your past relationship. So, with your 1st anniversary coming up you thought that it was now or never. You decided to shoot for the stars and bought an expensive lingerie set in your favourite colour, that you were wearing at that moment.

After your cafe date, you had arranged a little picnic-style dinner at the beach, where you watched the summer sunset together. After that, you went back to your place - since Jenna was out of town and Jimin lived with Namjoon - excused yourself to the bathroom (where you were currently at) and got ready to put your ultimate plane of seduction in action.

You took off your dress so you were just in lingerie, brushed your teeth twice, put some deodorant (just in case) and exited the bathroom, ready to put on a show.

“Hey baby, I poured you a glass of-” the pair of glasses he was holding shattered on your wooden floor, its content spilling all over to the nearest carpet, “-wine.”

You smiled. This was exactly the reaction you wanted, a reaction so good that immediately made you forget about all your doubts and fears - he wanted you.

“You like it? It’s just for you,” you teased as you gave a little twirl so he could fully observe you.

“You look...fuck.”

His jaw was locked, and his eyes scanned you up and down as you slowly started to shorten the distance between the two of you. As soon as you reached him though, he did something completely unexpected.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You followed him to the kitchen where he had run to pick up napkins.

“We need to clean this up before it ruins your floor, or you hurt yourself,” he rambled on as he went back to the place of the accident. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you.

“Jimin,” you slouched down and grabbed the hand that was picking up the broken pieces of glass, making him stand up again, “I don’t give a fuck about the glass. I just want to have you.”

You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks and softly kissed him. 

At first, it took him a while to relax and give in, but as soon as he started to kiss you back the intensity of the kiss immediately changed.

You guided him to your bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. While your hands were busy tugging at his brown locks his own were hoisting up your skirt so they could grab your ass.

“Take your shirt off,” you said after he threw you on the bed.

Your loins were on fire, they were burning for him, aching even. You had seen him shirtless before but this time you felt like you almost couldn’t control yourself. Your eyes examined his delicious chocolate abs and wondered what it would be like to kiss and lick them and to keep on going until you reached his cock.

You wanted to please him so badly, you wanted to hear him moan your name, you wanted to watch him come undone, you wanted to watch his facial features contort in pleasure because of you, you wanted it all. 

He got on top of you and you both started making out once again. 

“I want you so badly Jimin,” you said as you flipped your positions and got on top of him. He didn’t answer, but you could tell by the tiny moan that escaped his mouth and the way that he squeezed your thigh that he was excited.

First, you started to kiss his neck and then you made your way to his abs, running your tongue through the defined muscles. Your hands started working on the button of his jeans and you could feel him tense up. You thought it was probably just from the excitement or something, but as soon as your mouth started to descend towards his nether region he suddenly pushed you off and got up.

“Is everything alright?” You asked out of worry, being scared that you had crossed some sort of line for him.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I need to go,” he buttoned up his pants and put his shirt back on. 

“Jimin, did I do something wrong?” Suddenly, your whole world dropped and all your insecurities came flushing back in at once, tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“No, it’s just...fuck, I need to leave,” he turned away from you, put his shoes back on and left, leaving you a heartbroken mess on your bed.

“Honey I’m hoooome!” Your roommate Jenna yelled as she returned home from her week-long vacation in her hometown. 

Her loud voice woke you up, but it wasn’t like you were having a nice sound sleep; nightmares, as well as crippling thoughts of the man you loved cheating on you, had plagued you for the past week. 

“What are you still doing sleeping at noon and why aren’t you coming out to great your roomy?” You heard her enter your room but remained immobile under the cocoon your sheet provided.

“Get out of bed you lazy ass!” Jenna dragged the sheet that was hiding you all the way back and exposed you to the sunlight coming from your previously shut blinds.

“Jennaaaaaa,” you whined while trying to reach for the sheet, but she had pulled it way too far.

“Y/N, it stinks and you look like shit! What the fuck happened while I was away?”

“Nothing,” you lied.

“What did Jimin do?”

“How did you know?”

Sometimes you were amazed at how well Jenna knew you but that’s what 3 years of living together can do for you.

“Because I left you alone in the house on your anniversary with Jimin and instead of smelling like sex it smells like death,” she pointed out, matter-of-factly with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sighed, burying your face back on your pillow.

“Y/N, what happened?” Jenna sat on the bed right next to you and pet your unwashed hair in a comforting gesture.

“I think Jimin is cheating on me.”

“Jimin?” You hummed. “The Park Jimin?” You hummed once more. “Y/N, I don’t believe Jimin would ever do that to you. First, because he’s not the cheating type, and second, because he loves you, like a lot. Like, I get diabetes just by the sweet way in which he looks at you-”

“We’ve never had sex,” you interrupted her train of thought as you finally lifted up your head from your pillow to look at her.

“What? Never?”

“Nope,” you popped your last syllable to give emphasis.

“Okay but, that doesn’t really mean anything. You know Jimin can be a little shy at times. Maybe-”

“I thought that too,” you interrupted her once more, “and because of that, I decided that, on the night of our anniversary, I would be the one to initiate it. So, after a lovely time on our date I brought him back here, excused myself to the bathroom and came back out wearing a lingerie set so hot he dropped the fucking wine glass on the floor. You should have seen the way he was looking at me, he totally wanted it. Then, after a heated make-out session, he suddenly stops everything and leaves.”

“What? Oh no...and you guys haven’t spoken since?”

“No. He tried calling, but I ignored him.”

“Y/N…”

“I know what you’re going to say, that I need to be a grown-up and talk it through, but what if he’s going to tell me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? What if he tells me that he’s gonna leave me for another one? Or that maybe he’s into dudes now.”

“Jimin is not your stinking ex,” Jenna pointed out. She had never really liked your ex-boyfriend.

“I know, but still…”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough! You are gonna get up, take a shower, because you fucking stink, and then, after we have lunch, we’re going to Jimin’s soccer game with the guys and you’re gonna talk to him there, am I clear?!”

“Yes, mom…”

“Aish these kids…” you heard her say as you made your way to the bathroom.

When both you and Jenna arrived at the game, the second half had already started. There weren’t many people there - since it was purely an amateur game between friends - and since you didn’t want him to see you just yet, you and Jenna just stood behind a tree, enjoying the shade it provided.

Usually, your boyfriend was the best player, scoring numerous goals that led his team to victory, but today it looked like he wasn’t even there; he’d missed almost all of his passes, accidentally scored an own goal and almost got himself kicked out of the game. 

“I’ll be in the car waiting,” your friend told you as soon as the referee whistled to end the game, “take your time.”

“Thanks, Jenna.”

You gave her a small hug of gratitude and waited till everyone was in the locker room so you could wait outside for Jimin. What you weren’t expecting though, was to be able to listen to every little thing the boys were saying inside.

“What’s up with you today Jimin? If it wasn’t for Jungkook we could’ve had a way more embarrassing result than losing 3-2!” You recognized the voice of his roommate Namjoon - he clearly wasn’t happy.

“It’s nothing,” Jimin’s voice was so low that if he wasn’t right next to the window that was also next to you, you wouldn’t be able to hear his response.

“Did you finally have sex with Y/N?” A voice you recognized as his friend Hoseok asked, putting you in a state of hyperawareness. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, you could feel your blood pumping at a rapid pace and you could feel your hands shaking from the nerves. Whatever happened next, you would know the whole truth about you and Jimin. His answer would reveal everything. For sure if he was banging another girl his friends would know. Aren’t guys known for spilling out everything in the locker room?

His answer never came though.

“So that’s why you’re such a mess today. Did she react badly to the size of your dick and ran away?” Hoseok’s voice sounded again.

You were beyond shocked. Wherever you thought their conversation was going, you were clearly wrong. Never in a million years would you imagine that the reason Jimin acted the way he did was because of his insecurities.

“No...fuck. I-I was the one who ran away.”

“Shit man,” Hoseok answered, his voice getting closer to where you were standing, probably coming closer to comfort Jimin.

“Now she’s not answering my texts or calls, I’m scared I screwed it up forever,” he sighed.

“Jimin, just talk to her. Y/N loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Namjoon reasoned.

“And what if she doesn’t want to be with me because I can’t please her like a normal guy?”

You turned around and left for the car, not being able to hear more.

Of all the times you had imagined the reasons why you hadn’t had sex yet, never once had crossed your mind that that reason was the size of his penis. Of all the times you felt insecure about yourself, never once had crossed your mind that the man you loved was the one feeling insecure. For all of that, you felt like a piece of shit; for pressuring him, for doubting him, for everything.

You wanted to tell him then and there that you loved him more than anything and that you didn’t care about the size of his penis, but most of all, you wanted to tell him that you were sorry for pressuring him.

That same night you wanted to surprise Jimin and apologize to him. So, after texting his roommate explaining everything that had happened that afternoon and asking if you could come by, he promptly told you that he’d gladly go on a date with his boyfriend to leave you two alone. Thus, when dinner time came and Namjoon left, you picked up a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine, and went to Jimin’s place. 

You knocked on his door and at first, he didn’t answer, but after insisting once more he finally opened the door.

“Namjoon I swear I’m gonna nail the keys to your hands- Y/N.” The way in which Jimin was looking at you right now reminded you so much of a lost puppy that you just wanted to drop everything and hug him tight.

“I thought we should talk. I brought pizza and wine.” Jimin stood in front of you with his mouth agape, not saying anything. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside to let you through and you walked to the kitchen to place the pizzas and the wine on the table.

“Namjoon just left-”

“I know, he offered to once I told him I was coming,” you put the food on the table and turned to him.

“Y/N... I’m so sorry I left the other day. It’s nothing to do with you, I love you. It’s just…”

“Jimin, I know.” You grabbed his hand to comfort him.

“Y-you know?”

He looked so adorable when he was confused. You looked at the way he wide opened his eyes and you just melted inside.

“I went to see you play today and, at the end of the game, I waited for you outside the locker room so we could talk and I heard everything you guys said.”

“You heard? So, you know? Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you it was just-” You kissed him.

“Jimin, I don’t care that you have a small penis. You could have a wind chime for a penis and I wouldn’t mind, you know why? Because I love you with all my heart.” You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks in a tender gesture and ran your thumbs over his skin.

“I’m so sorry I put that kind of pressure on you. I should’ve known that you weren’t feeling it and-”

“Wasn’t feeling it? Fuck Y/N, do you know how much I wanted you at that moment? Do you know that you almost ended me when you came out of the bathroom looking like that? Trust me when I say that leaving you that night was hard as fuck and also, something I’ve regretted ever since.”

After soulfully looking into each other's eyes you embraced one another. You nuzzled your head in his neck and just stood there smelling his Hugo Boss perfume. The hug was a healing one, like all that you’ve been through for the past week had just been erased by his strong arms.

Jimin pulled back from the hug so his lips could meet yours, passion flowing right through you. The kiss quickly got more heated as his hands started wandering all over your body, making the temperature rise.

“Baby,” you pulled away and looked right at his glazed eyes, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips and led you to his bedroom where he started to remove his t-shirt, showing you his glorious abs.

Not wanting him to feel left out, and to give him some type of security, you also started to remove your shirt, following it up with the rest of your outfit until you were completely naked on his bed.

“I am so lucky,” he stated as he observed your naked body on his bed.

His half-naked body soon was on top of yours, his mouth worshipping your skin with sweet and tender kisses. He started at the neck, moved through your chest (teasing your nipple a little bit with his tongue), down your stomach and straight to your dripping centre.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes were fixated on yours as he licked your pussy, paying special attention to your small nub.

This was the first time Jimin was eating you out, the two of you only having gone to second base. From all the times you envisioned his head between your legs you had to admit you only imagined the best; Jimin was by far the best kisser you’ve had, not only because of those luscious lips of his but also because he had a very skilful tongue that he knew how to use in just the right amount. So, to say that he exceeded your expectations was putting it lightly. He was fucking knocking your metaphorical socks off.

“Fuck Jimin, just like that.” The way his wet tongue was circling your clit made you grab a handful of his dark brown locks so he could get even closer to you.

You were getting in such a euphoric state that you almost felt like something was taking over you; especially when he inserted a finger inside you. One minute you were biting your lip as hard as you could, the other you were almost pulling out his bedspread and in the next you were massaging your breasts to enhance your pleasure; an act that, in tandem, made you cum on your boyfriend’s mouth as you screamed his name.

“You were so good at that baby,” he climbed back up on top of you and you pulled him in for a quick kiss, the taste of your juices being all over his lips, “that was the best oral sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, you know. I needed to get good at that since, you know…”

Your heart completely dropped, not thinking about the possible implications of your words. You felt so bad for him, you wish you could make all of this go away for him.

“Baby, don’t say that,” you placed your hand on his cheek, “size doesn’t really matter. What matters is the love we feel for each other and I love you so much.” You two kissed once more demonstrating your love for one another.

“Do you trust me?” You gently asked him.

“I do, with all my heart.”

You switched places with him, this time you being the one on top, and gently pulled his sweatpants down. Then, you looked at him once more, waiting for his approval, and once he gave you a nod you pulled down his black underwear revealing his hard dick.

It wasn’t that bad. You honestly were picturing something way smaller than what was in front of you - something more like a finger - but as you looked at it and saw that it still had a good girth you were kind of relieved.

You looked at him, saw his concerned look, gave him a smile, grabbed his penis and gave it a gentle kiss. Jimin whimpered at the contact and you teased him further by giving it a series of licks.

“Please baby, don’t tease me, it’s...been a while.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t also in the mood for games, but you just couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. “Do you have a condom?”

“Here,” he moved to reach the top drawer of his bedside table and removed a pack of condoms. He opened the box, ripped out one of the foils and handed it to you.

You put his cock in your mouth, giving it a couple of sucks, for a last bit of teasing and rolled the condom on his dick. You then moved so your core would be right on top of his length and rubbed his tip back and forth through your folds before sliding it right inside of you.

“Hmm,” you both moaned in unison.

His dick felt different than the others you had experienced. It didn’t fill you to the brim, but it still felt good. Maybe to other girls, it wouldn’t be ideal, but to you, it was more than enough.

The way you two were making love to each other, the sweet kisses, the intense stares, the moaning of each other’s names, everything was more than perfect and you could honestly say you never felt more connected to a person in your entire life. It didn’t even matter to you the number of times he slipped off of you during sex, it just mattered that you were with him.

Jimin was near his climax and you could tell he was trying to hold it in as much as possible because you were still a bit far from it. But, out of nowhere, Jimin started rubbing your clit, giving you the edge you needed to finally come undone and make him release inside of you.

You remained in each other’s arms for a while, just panting and enjoying each other’s embrace, until Jimin pulled himself out of you and went to the bathroom to discard his condom. When he returned and lay right next to you, you couldn’t help but notice the nervous look on his face.

“Baby, it was fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah, but it kept falling out and I had to help you get there.”

“So?” You popped yourself on your elbow to get a better look of his face. “It matters way more to me that you did everything in your power to make me cum than if I could cum by your dick alone. Trust me, most women can’t even cum with sex alone.”

“So...it was good?” His puppy dog eyes were seriously killing you inside.

“Yes,” you kissed his lips as he started smiling, relief washing over his face, “it was good.”

“I love you so much,” he professed his love to you and you could say that it was making your heart explode.

“I love you too,” now he was the one kissing you and you wished for nothing more than to get lost in his lips for the whole day but the sound of your stomach growling made you come back to reality.

“Somebody’s hungry,” he booped your nose in an adorable gesture, “how about we leave this bed and go devour those pizzas?”

“Way ahead of you.”

a/n: I was inspired to do this fic due to the amounts of “huge dick” fics out there. Don’t get me wrong, I love huge dicks lmao, but I feel like it’s healthy to, once in a while, bring a small peen to the equation (or maybe even a freaking normal size). Girls and boys, don’t expect everyone to have huge dicks, it’s ok if they don’t <3

© maliby, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica​

.

<-- Previous - Next -->

Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked  pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

><

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down. 

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be? 

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

><

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much. 

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did. 

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around. 

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging  in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone. 

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

><><><><><><

A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Camboy!Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Renjun + Jeno + Jaemin ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Penetration (F) | Masturbation (M) | Oral (F+M) | Voyeurism | Sex with animal masquerade-like masks (foxes) ➔Word count: 4,069

➔Summary: You’re going to fuck popular CamBoy! Haechan for the very first time. Will your nerves get the best of you? 

  The mask he wore protecting his identity looked like a fox face. White and glittery, with ears and a small nose, it hid half of his handsome face. It sat flush against his cheek, not even sweat daring to move it. He had worn it many times, and each time, you would count the crystals adorning the mask.

  You observed his shirtless body from across the room with interest. His body was lightly toned, the little moles on his stomach making you want to connect the dots with your tongue. He wore belted suit paints and nothing else. Even half-dressed, he looked more put together than you ever would.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

  You had never worked with him before. As far as you could tell, he was a true professional. When you arrived, he asked if you had eaten. He gave you a drink before you could decline, and when you asked him where the bathroom was, he guided you with his hand hovering over your back. Easy on the eyes and a voice so silky soft, it was hard not to fall for his charm.  

“I don’t think so,” you said. “I’m pretty satisfied.” 

  You looked down at your white silk lingerie. Having watched his work before, you purposely purchased it to match his mask. You looked innocent, maybe a little naive while wearing it. It was the opposite of how you were feeling, as you devoured him with your eyes. You had been in the sex industry for awhile, so you were well aware of the rules, and how not to break them. You were polite and engaging, respectful and eager to learn, but you really wanted to have him.

“We can start in a few minutes, if you like?” he asked.

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Around the room were cameras facing a lone bed that sat in the middle of the floor. Studio lights lit up the space, with fairy lights hanging from the ceiling to soften the mood when the need called for it. Various chains hung from the headboard. There was a chest of toys by the side of the bed. He worked frequently in that very room. You knew because you had watched his cam to learn what he liked. You would log on anonymously, at first. Once a healthy repertoire was built between you, you came out of your shell. He asked if you would like to work with him, and you jumped at the chance. You enjoyed sex work, but you only agreed because you had a small crush on him. 

“Haechan?” you asked, jumping up from your seat. “I forgot. Are we having sex with the condom, or without? I’m okay with either. I’ve been tested, and I’m on contraceptives.”

  Haechan was buttoning up his suit shirt, the small white buttons slipping from his fingertips. He licked the corner of his mouth, as he was thinking. You knew he was also regularly tested. He had to in order to continue fucking all of his girls. Suddenly, and you didn’t know why, you began to feel nervous. You pulled down the lingerie so it covered your thong. Your cleavage was made obvious, but the gentleman in Haechan did not look. You were afraid he wouldn’t like you as well as he liked the others, afraid that you didn’t check all of the boxes. 

“We can see where the mood takes us?” he suggested.

“Alright,” you said. “I’m okay with that.” 

  You sat back down and watched him finish getting ready. You began to feel a little like an amateur, and cursed yourself that it was so easy to feel anxious around him. He really was so handsome. The suit he wore was tailored to his body perfectly, and the way the pants hugged his ass made you crane your neck to get a better look.

“You’re tense.” he said.

“What? I am?”

  He crossed the room and took a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours. When you worked with other men, they didn’t bother talking to you until the cameras were rolling. With Haechan, since you had walked through his door, he had done nothing but make you feel comfortable.

“Are you okay with shooting today?” he asked.

“I am,” you said. “Do I not look okay?”

  He smiled, bringing out the boyish appeal that raked him in lots of money. For a brief second, he removed the mask so you could see his face. His eyes were soft and kind, his cheeks full and fed. He tried joking with you to loosen you up, but every time he nudged you, you could feel your timidness returning. Haechan took your hand and held it, rubbing his thumb over the back of it to soothe you.

“Is it me? Are you nervous because of me?” he asked. He gestured to everything in the room with a wave of his hand. “Does all of this scare you?”

  You were going to lie through your teeth, but you didn’t want to do that to him. Instead, you nodded and told him it was because you found him so irresistible. You didn’t know if you could compare to the women he’d been with previously. You riddled him with compliments about how sexy he was, and how each woman he was with left the room feeling changed.

“You give me too much credit,” he said. “They leave me just as breathless. I’ve seen your work and-”

“-you have?” you interrupted, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

  Haechan touched his fingers to your chin. You felt lost in his eyes. When he leaned in close to kiss you, you felt like you were being hypnotized. His lips were soft, and you never wanted to stop kissing them. He pulled away before you could slip your tongue inside of his mouth. 

“I promise you,” Haechan began. “I want to fuck you as much as you want to fuck me.”

   A lot went into being a successful cam boy. Your set-up was small and intimate. You often did solo cams where you masturbated with toys. Sometimes, you did non-sexual things for money. It was always different, but it always had the same chill vibe.  It was always just you, a camera, and your legs spread wide. But Haechan put all of your work to shame. After the third person came in and out of the room to check something, you realized they were there to stay. 

“What do you think?” he asked. “Do you like it?”

“I like it,” you said. “It’s interesting. It looks like a lot of work.” 

  While talking about the details of the set-up, three people came over that Haechan wanted to introduce to you. You had seen Jaemin around at different parties, but meeting him while you were half-naked made you feel shy. You shook hands with him and greeted him, careful to avoid a lot of eye contact. 

“And this is Jeno,” Haechan said, pointing at his handsome friend. “And lastly, Renjun. All three of them help me make this what it is. They stay in the room while we perform, but if you’re not comfortable, I will ask them to look away.”

“Will they be on camera?” you asked. “Can the viewers see them?”

“Absolutely not.” Jaemin said. 

Renjun laughed. “No one wants to see my body.”

You looked at Renjun and winked. “I wouldn’t mind seeing your body. “

  Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin laughed when Renjun became flustered. The mood was lightened a little bit, and after that, you didn’t mind so much that they were in the room with you. 

  You looked around, while the rest of the set-up was being finished, placing your wrist in and out of a pair of handcuffs, and not caring if your ass was hanging out of the lingerie.

“Are you ready?” Haechan asked, touching your elbow.

“Yes.”

  From beside him, Haechan pulled his arm up to reveal another fox mask in the color blue. It was prettier, the crystals shining more brightly. He fixed it to your face, taking extra care not to mess up your make-up or hair. When he was done, the kiss he left on your lips was faint. Your nerves seemed to dissipate even more with the attention Haechan paid to you, but it still wasn’t enough. You were feeling like something wasn’t quite complete.

“Wait,” you said. “Can I do something first?”

  Curious, Haechan nodded. You went over to Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun who were standing in the corner of the room, each boy at their respective post. Everything had been set up, and there was little need for them to observe the scene in its entirety.  You grabbed blindfolds from a nearby table and tied them around each boy's eyes so that they couldn’t see. Jeno licked his lips in anticipation, Jaemin instinctively reached out in front of him, and Renjun smiled mischievously, which was more than you thought he would do. When you were done, each of them looked to where they thought you were.

“You can hear,” you said. “But you don’t get to see. You can only take the blindfold off when you’re turned on.”

  You backed away until you were in Haechan’s arms. He came behind you and hugged you, his arms around your neck. You were scared that your plan would backfire, that each boy wouldn’t be able to do their job without being able to see, or that none of them would remove the blindfold. When Renjun reached for the camera button with ease, you knew things would be just fine.

“Going live on air in three counts,” Renjun said. “One-”

  Jeno double checked the lights, calling out to Haechan for approval. Jaemin checked the audio, and gave a thumbs up when he realized the sound worked fine.

“-Two”

  Before Renjun said three, Haechan spun you around and looked into your eyes. “Trust me,” he said. “And I’ll trust you.”

“-Three.”

  Just like that, you were live, and hundreds of people were watching you. As soon as Renjun said the word, Haechan had snapped into his role. There were no more kind eyes, no more soft touches. He pushed you back onto the bed. You fell hard and crawled backwards as he crawled forward on his knees, his fox mask bearing down on you. His shirt buttons were popping open from the strain of his chest, little keyholes revealing his skin. Haechan caught your left wrist in his hands, as you tried to get away, and took the soft cuffs, restraining you against the headboard. You reached out and touched the right cuff, pulling yourself up into a sitting position. Haechan cocked his head, his fox nose pointing in another direction.

  Instead of speaking, he stood up on the bed, bending his knees so his crotch was level with your face. He unzipped and unbelted his suit pants, taking his soft cock out of his pants. You made eye contact with his member, your eyes hungrily taking him in. With your free hand, you reached out to rouse him, but Haechan restrained you. You made eye contact with him before facing his twitching cock slowly coming to life. You had seen it on camera many times, but up close, it was so pretty it made your mouth water. Haechan took a handful of your hair and yanked your head back, the pain from your scalp making you yelp. He moved forward and put his balls near your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked them gently, rolling your tongue around the delicate skin. All you could see was the darkness of his cock resting on top of your fox mask and messing up your vision. Before you were done pleasuring him, Haechan took his balls out of your mouth. His cock was half-hard, the tip staring you down. He rested his cock head against your bottom lip, but as you opened your mouth to lick him, he pulled himself away.

 The torture of watching Haechan zip his cock away made you pull against the restraints. You could feel how badly your body wanted him. Your nipples were hard, your pussy throbbing, and your toes were curling with the foreseeable future of finally getting to use his cock. 

“What should I do next?” Haechan asked, making his voice a little deeper than it naturally was. “Should I finger you? Work you up until you’re finally ready to orgasm, and then take it away? Should I leave love bites all over your body? Tear that pretty lingerie and masturbate over your chest? There are so many options.”

“All of the above.” you said, your own voice sounding unfamiliar. 

  Haechan pushed himself swiftly off the bed. He went to the camera and looked into it, a smile on his face. Since Renjun couldn’t see, Haechan angled the camera himself. The puckered kiss he gave the viewers was felt all over your body. When he came back over, he grabbed your left ankle and yanked your body until you were laying down fully, your feet nearing the edge of the bed. He used restraints on you so that you were spread across its face and fully restrained on all four corners. The silky white triangle that protected your modesty was seen as your lingerie lifted to reveal your bare stomach and the hickey that was already there.

“Who did this?” Haechan asked. 

  He touched his fingers over the fading purple mark. Your skin tingled, and you squirmed away from his touch. You tried clamping your legs shut, but the restraints made it so you couldn’t even lift up your legs from the bed. Haechan had you exactly where he could do anything to you. 

“Not you.” you said.

  Haechan let his fingers linger before hooking them underneath the triangle fabric and peering inside. You were freshly waxed, and as he pushed the back of his fingers against you to spread your lips, you were very wet. 

“Mmm,” Haechan moaned. “Watch your mouth.”

  He took his hand out of your thong from that angle and moved them to the side to reveal your whole pussy. You were aware of the hot lights and how they made your skin glisten with sweat. Being vulnerable made you feel so sensitive to his touch. Just a slight brush against your clit wouldn’t normally make you shudder, but you couldn’t stop it before it happened. He liked the way you jerked. It brought a smile to his lips, his fox mask seeming just as sly. 

“Do you like this?” he asked.

  His fingers were inside of you, pushing into you, again and again. You squeezed the restraints and raised your hips as much as they would allow. You wanted to move yourself down, to fuck yourself on his fingers, but every time you tried, he pulled back. Haechan got as much of your juices as he could on his fingers before bringing them to your lips. You sucked on his fingers with the same kind of ferocity as when you had his balls on your tongue.

“I like it.” he said.

  Leaning over, he swirled his tongue over you and kissed your clit. His fingers found their way inside you once more, but they didn’t let up. He fingered you, his eyes watching as your body misbehaved. He had no plans on being lenient. He fucked you with them, crooking his fingers to get at your g-spot, alternating between coming out to rub your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore. Every time you felt like you would orgasm, he stopped and looked off camera like he was bored. He took a vibrator from the chest, but the feeling of him pressing it against you and then lessening the pressure drove you crazy.

“Please.” you begged. You didn’t like the way your clit pulsated when he wasn’t touching you. You needed to feel his rough fingertips on you again, needed him to finish the job.

“Please what?” he asked.

  He went in on you again, one hand inside of you, and one hand holding the vibrator to your clit full-on. Your legs were shaking, your body nearly convulsing. You held your head back and moaned, hoping the sound wouldn’t be too loud on the viewers end. After everything, you felt yourself squirt, bursting like a water balloon.

“Wow,” Haechan said. “First time I had that happen.”

  He looked down at his soaked hand and felt pleased with himself. You, on the other hand, felt embarrassed. Before you could wallow in the feeling, he cleaned you both up and stripped the sheets from underneath you. The move was sexy and swift.

“How about I give you a little break.” Haechan said, his voice getting softer.

  He climbed onto the bed and took off the restraints around your ankles. He rubbed the marks they left behind. Your first instinct was to close your legs, but he moved between them to kiss your thighs. He threw your calves over his shoulders and kissed all around your pussy, his supple lips barely wet and avoiding your delicate clit. He used his hands to hold your waist in place while he moved up your stomach to kiss you, the fox mask scratching against your skin. The higher he went, the rougher his mouth got. He pulled the lingerie up your body until your breasts were revealed. You watched him leave hickeys on your skin, the marks taking awhile to show, but his ambition never letting up.

“Darker,” you said. “I want to see them for a long time.”

  His eyes were focused, his body moving up yours to give you your wish. You could feel his hard cock against your thigh at the same time his lips were on your neck. You couldn’t see them, but you knew he was leaving little marks all over you. You looked to the side to watch Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun. You had forgotten they were there. Jeno was looking in your direction intently, his blindfold still in place, and his hands in his lap. Jaemin was sitting down and fidgeting with the sound, his back straight and tense. Renjun’s blindfold was on the floor, his cock in his hand. He watched you watching him fuck his fist, and he didn’t care.

“Next,” you said. “Masturbate for me, Haechan. I want to feel your cum on me.”

  Haechan lifted his head up. Your face was burning where the fox mask had scratched against it. Haechan noticed and gave you sweet kisses before kissing your mouth. He finally gave you his tongue, the saltiness from your sweaty body the main flavor. He got up off the bed and walked around the room to rev himself up. He looked into the camera and suggestively licked his fingers clean. Next, the suit jacket came off because he was hot and his back was sweaty. He unbuttoned what buttons were still together, and let his chest free. He looked different than the man who met with you earlier.

“I’m waiting.” you said.

“That mouth,” Haechan laughed. “Will get you into trouble.”

  He crawled back onto the bed on his knees and made his way over to you. He touched the silk of your lingerie gently before bunching it in his fists and tearing it open, straight down the middle. His cock was in his hands, and he was rock hard as he stroked himself, his adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Come on,” you said. “Hurry up. I’m impatient.”

  You urging him to move faster made him stroke himself lightning fast, like he would do if he were alone and in need of a quickie. Haechan only slowed down the stroke to throw his leg over you and use your stomach to rub against. He came against your skin, his cum spurting up around your breasts. He came quietly, a few grunts as he did, with his cock still moving against you.

“No condom,” you said. “Fuck me now, Haechan.”

  Your legs were glued together, underneath his body. As he was straddling you, he only had to move back a little bit. You knew he would be ready. You had watched him before and knew he didn’t need much time to recover. Haechan ripped the string of the thong and pushed the fabric out of the way. Since your pussy was closed tight, it was difficult for him to push himself inside of you, but when he did, the feeling was much different than what you were used to. He fucked you with your legs closed, the friction of your thick thighs squeezing his shaft and making him roll his eyes back. You let him do what he wanted to do to your body because you couldn’t touch him, but you were driven by the prospect of getting to fuck him the way you wanted to. You came first, your pussy already so sensitive. 

“Your turn,” you said. “Don’t you want to come inside of me? Keep thrusting, baby, keep going.”

  Haechan kept thrusting for a few moments before shucking off his shirt and shifting positions. Your legs were open and free, but he wasn’t done with you. With his cock still in you, he sat back on his knees and lifted your body up until your back was arched and you were in mid-air. He held you from underneath as he kept fucking you, bouncing your body on his cock. When he came, he slowed down, easing you back down onto the bed.

“Now,” Haechan said, trying to collect his breath. “We have fun.”

  He let you out of your restraints. You launched yourself at him, and he caught you, laughing as you tackled him. You could feel your fox mask slipping off so you just removed it and threw it across the room. The look in your eyes must have looked feral. Haechan’s eyes widened in shock before he ditched his own mask, his look matching yours.

“No. Now, they can see how pretty your face looks when you come.” you said.

  Your lips were wrapped around his cock. You were sucking him with two thoughts in your mind: You wanted to get him back for overstimulating you, and you wanted to suck him dry. Every time you went up,  you took him out of your mouth and waited five seconds. The count was agonizingly slow. Haechan was moaning and breathing heavily, but he let you take it out on him as much as you wanted. It took him a long time to come a third time, since his body was so spent. You sucked him, not really caring if you had the privilege of swallowing him or not. You only wanted to make him feel good, to give him your hands and mouth like he gave you his.

“Can you handle it?” you asked, smirking that you had to ask.

  Briefly, you could see the real Haechan peering up at you with admiration. He smiled and touched his hand down the front of your body before helping his cock inside of you. You rode him, taking the time to look back at the camera as you did. You felt liberated riding him, felt the way all attention was on your body as you took his cock. All four boys had their eyes on you, waiting, watching. The blindfolds were all ditched, and so were the nerves. You turned around to ride Haechan in reverse, leaning down to hold his ankles so he would get a good view of your ass, and you could get a better view of Renjun coming all over his knuckles. You were hoping the viewers would get a good look at the way Haechan’s cock disappeared inside of you, or at all of the marks he had left on your skin.

“One last time.” Haechan said. 

  For the last position, Haechan had you on your knees so that he could fuck you from behind. You were having a hard time holding yourself up, but you moved back to meet his cock without complaint. You rested your head down, crossed your arms and placed your chin on top of them. Haechan grabbed your ass and drilled himself inside of you, the feeling deep and full. Before he was getting ready to come, you looked into the camera lens and grinned.

[thewalkingfanfictions]

I’m Not Gay -- Sam Winchester x Male!reader

I'm Not Gay — Sam Winchester x male!hunter!reader

Part One / Part Two

Description: Forced out of his motel room by his sister when she and a stranger burst through the door playing tongue wars, (Name) decides to go for walk, where he runs into Sam, tall, handsome, smart, and no, (Name) definitely doesn’t like guys, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Warning: Some internalized homophobia, references to sex, and some cussing. Supernatural-themed gore and violence (they fight vampires)

Genre: Fluff, I guess? A bit of angst in there somewhere probably, too, since I have no self control.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Male!Reader

A/N: I have no idea what the fuck this is. This is such a crack fic. Reader has a sister named Lidia, for reasons that I do not know.

Words without A/N: 2483

Masterlist

<———————>

"You sure you don't wanna come with, (name)?"

"No, Lidia, I'm just gonna stay here and research. 'Sides, socializing is for psychopaths."

Lidia (Last name); ninety-three pounds of redheaded sarcasm, anger issues, and badassery. Also my sister, senior to me by four years ("and three months, (name)!") Also, also, a total extrovert with a thing for trying to force her introverted little brother to socialize. Disgusting.

"C'mon, (nickname), you need to get laid! I could totally find you a pretty, butch boy and—"

"Lidia, for the last time, I'm not gay!"

For the last several years, my darling, amazing, delightful (taste the sarcasm?) big sis has been living under the (totally unfounded) belief that I am a homosexual. I don't know where she seems to have gotten that notion, as I am not. (Summer camp doesn't count, dammit!)

"Mhm, keep tellin' yourself that, lil' bro. But, fine, if you won't come with me–" she dramatically picked herself up from the seat where she'd been fancying up her makeup–"I guess I'll just have to go without you. How terrible, little old me, scared and alone, walking down the road after dark without someone to protect me," she pouted.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. We both know you could kick anyone who tried to bother you's ass without even looking."

Giggling, she picked up her bag (and a few blades) and turned towards the door. Looking back at me one more time, she gave me a middle-fingered salute before about-facing and heading through to the outside.

"See ya later, loser," she called back before the door closed all the way.

Even though she was already gone, I still mumbled a quiet "punk" under my breath after her, before setting off to start my research.

————

Three hours, several coffee refills, a few dead ends, and one (minor) mental break down later, I was really no closer to finding the thing we were hunting, and there was a crash outside the hotel door.

Lidia had been out for a while, there was a chance it was just her returning from whatever bar she had gone to, shit faced and unable to walk correctly, therefore knocking something into the door or the like, or, my least favorite option, it was something supernatural or other here to kill me.

Moving to grab a gun, I silently stalk towards the window beside the door. There's a few more dull thuds on the door, and some odd, wounded-animal type noise comes through the wood. Cautiously, I move the curtain a few centimeters, just enough to peer through without being spotted.

There, pushed up against the door, is my sister, some idiot attached to her at the lips, with hands going places I'd rather not think about when it comes to my sibling.

Grimacing, I turn around, shove my gun into the waistline of my jeans, and move to quickly grab my laptop and a few books. Maybe if I hurry I can get out of here before they actually start fucking, this time.

Hurrying towards it, the door suddenly opens, and in spills a very shirtless (and totally not attractive, what?) man, and my sister, who was now working on pulling her bra off. They shuffle towards one of the beds, and somewhere in the back if my head I register that its my bed that they're going towards as I awkwardly move around them, trying not to alert them of my presence. I didn't wanna deal with that conversation again.

Finally getting all the way to the door, I carefully pulled it open as not to bother the two, and backed out of the doorway. Glancing up, I got a full view of Lidia's tit before I managed to actually get out of the door.

I quietly closed the door, making sure that the click of the hinges was quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb the couple inside.

Pausing for a second, I couldn't help the dramatic shiver that rattled my body.

"That is-- that is far more of her than I ever needed to see," I winced.

Turning to go find a place to settle down while my sister and the stranger... did their thing, I came face-to-face with a brick wall. Well, more face-to-chest, actually, and brick wall wasn't quite right, I guess. He was closer to a tank. Even at the few paces away from me that he stood, he still seemed incredibly tall. Long-ish brown hair curled around his ears, and his face was undoubtedly attractive. A small smile (that I definitely did not find adorable, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm totally, definitely, one hundred percent straight) tugged at full lips and his eyes stared down at me questioningly. I could feel an ugly blush climbing up my neck.

"Uh– heh, uhm, my, my– uh my–" my awkward stuttering was cut off when the man huffed a small laugh, and spoke.

"You must be the brother."

...

"Heh?" His smile only broadened at my perplexed stare and he took a few steps closer to me. I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the guy's humongous stature, though his face seemed innocent and kind enough. Still, in my line of work, you can never be too careful. I instinctively felt my hand reach for the gun still hidden in my waistband.

"In, uh, in there," he pointed lightly at the door I'd just come out of, "my brother, he's the one with your sister. She was talking about a brother at her motel, I, uh, I guess that'd be you," he finished off, trailing out slightly as he realized he had nothing more to say. It was his turn to blush.

I let myself relax slightly, I didn't think he was so much of a threat anymore.

Smiling slightly, I couldn't not let my eyes glance over him.

Uh, in as purely heterosexual way, obviously.

His shoulders were stupidly broad, and under his denim coat I was sure there had to lay muscle. Before, when I said he was tall, I don't think you really got the full picture. The awning thing that came off the front of the hotel to protect anyone on the sidewalk was probably your standard seven foot high roof; this guys head was only a few inches under it. He was huge. His face was young, but had a whisper behind it that said that he'd seen some things someone his age generally didn't. The dimples on either side of that blindingly bright smile made him just so much more attractive, and I couldn't not find him cute. (Once again, in a totally hetero way, I'm really, definitely, completely Not Gay.)

Figuring that I couldn't stand there and gawk any longer without coming off as creepy, I finally spoke up.

"Uh, yeah, Lidia. And your brother. That was–" I shuddered slightly, "–that was a sight I never needed to see."

He chuckled slightly and took a few steps closer to me. I was still a bit wary, but I let him come closer without pulling a gun on him, anyway.

"Yeah, no, it's not pleasant. He's done the same thing to me before."

I blanched up at him (damn, he really is tall) and thought to the scene that was unraveling right inside the door. Didn't he say he was his brother? I mean, to each your own, but damn—

"No! No, not—" he cut off my train of thought, growing redder by the second. He took a few more steps forward until he was right in front of me, holding his hands up in surrender. "I mean— I meant barging into the room with a partner while I was still there like that, not-not that he's—not that he's done, done that—" I cut him off, wanting to end the poor babbling disasters misery.

Cracking a smile, I laugh gently at him and reach out to touch his arm and make him pause.

"Oh-oh, its okay, calm down man, I getcha, I getch—"

MOAN

My sisters pleasured voice cut me off and made me freeze up, my face burning red.

"Nope, nope, nopety nope nope nope, can we please go anywhere else and continue this conversation? Literally anywhere, oh my fuck, oh my—" I started walking before he could say anything, not wanting to have to suffer through another sound like that.

He chuckled again as I passed him and quickly caught up to me, reaching out to gently grab my arm before I got to far.

"My, uh– we could hang out in my room for a while. 'Till they're, ya know, done," he grimaced and nodded his head towards the room to the direct right of ours. He hadn't seemed dangerous so far, so I mean, why not?

I nodded hesitantly and let the man lead me into the room, noting the fact that his hand didn't leave my arm until the very last second.

He let me in first and closed the door softly behind us. I have never been so thankful that these walls were thicker than any other motel's walls in existence. If I focused hard enough, I could almost imagine that the faint moaning was just sound coming from the little box TV.

The room was set up pretty much the same as ours. The same, mildewy wallpaper, two twin sized mattresses on either side of the room with the same pale comforter tucked around a paper pillow. A few littler things did stick out to me, though. The pre packed buggout bags sitting right at the end of both beds, the laptop that sat on the bedside table with a bunch of papers laying haphazardly around it, a half-drank coffee cup sitting beside it. The scene seemed oddly familiar.

"My, uh," the man's voice cut off my searching eyes, "my name's Sam, by the way. I don't think I said that before." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and I definitely didn't find it cute. At all. Nope.

Sam. It fit him. I like it.

Smiling up at him, (and totally not noticing how his frame would almost take up the entire door frame that he stood beside) I opened my mouth to respond, only to be cut off again by a crash from the room next door and an even louder moan. I grimaced, the awkwardly smiled up at him once again.

"I'm (name), it's, uh, it's nice to meet ya?" How do people socialize again?

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you, too." Well that's reassuring, at least he seems just about as nervous as I am.

He stepped forward a bit and awkwardly held his hand out to me, which I accepted with a small, close-lipped smile. The moment our skin made contact, I genuinely didn't want to let go. The warmth of his overly-large hand was intoxicating, and his touch made me oddly giddy.

Looking up into his eyes, I found, was a total mistake. A stunning mixture of smokey hazel and green, small flecks of honey dotted his iris'. His eyes seemed so deep. Seemed so much older than they really were, once again, like he'd seen far more in his life than an average man his age could ever claim. Not to be dramatic or anything, but he was absolutely captivating.

I don't really know how long we sat there and stared at each other, but by the time I finally realized how weird it probably was, and forced myself to look away, I was starting to feel a bit light headed. Let's blame that on lack of sleep and an excess of coffee, and not on whatever was causing my stomach to flutter so dangerously as it was.

"Heh," I looked down towards our feet, my face flushing dramatically. I'm sure by now I'm about as red as a baboons ass, and only flushing redder as I realized that he was still holding my hand.

"Uh-uhm, so, uh, Sam--" I stuttered pathetically, focussing on the hand that still held mine until he awkwardly let go. "--what, uh, what do you do for a living?"

And so the night kicked off just like that. Soon enough, we were both sat cross legged on the bed, sharing stories (all the ones that I could think of that didn't involve murder or monsters) and trading memories. I learned that he had planned to be a lawyer, and was almost done with his course when some unmentioned family drama popped up, and he had to take a sudden leave. I found out that he traveled for work with his brother (a sentence that seemed suspiciously familiar) and that he loved to read. He told me how his girlfriend had died in some terrible house fire only a few months before (my heart definitely didn't freeze up at the fact that he had a girlfriend, shut up) and that he still had nightmares about her. We talked for hours, and, unlike with most people, I never once got bored of it.

I really don't know how long we sat there and chatted, but, by the time the doorframe to the room was vomiting up a sweaty and slightly-drunk older brother, my eyes had started to sag with exhaustion.

"Wa-Sam-Who's this?" Dean (Sam had spoken of him frequently over the evening) slurred slightly, gazing at me with an almost accusatory look. Before I had the chance to respond, Sam was already up and talking, standing between us almost protectively.

"(Name). He's, uh, he's the little brother of the girl you...were with, tonight." He seemed uncertain at exactly what he was saying, but he got the point across.

Being as he was still standing guard in front of me like he was (why on earth was he doing that?), Dean had to lean around him to look at me, which made Sam fidget nervously, for some reason.

"Dean--"

"(Name), you should probably be headed back, it's getting kinda late and I'm sure your sisters wondering where you're at," Dean cut his brother off, leaning further around Sam to look at me. Not gonna lie, he kinda scared me. Standing, I moved to grab the things I'd escaped the room with earlier, and headed for the door, turning back to beckon Sam a good night, I caught sight of them staring at eachother like they were having a silent argument, and just darted out the door, instead of saying anything. Maybe we'd meet again one day.

The air was cold, and it had gotten very dark in the time that I was hidden away in the room with Sam. I walked briskly back to my own room, opened the door with my key, and hesitantly poked my head in, not wanting to wake my sister if she'd fallen asleep.

"So there  you are, (nickname), out getting some dick, were you?"

Ugh.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

A "could be sexy, could be fluffy" request: what if the Yiga Husbands had a beach date? Can these two knuckleheads swim? Does fucking on the sand create logistical problems? Would Kohga have a heart attack if something brushed against his leg underwater because OH GOD WHAT IF THAT WAS A FISH EW EW SOOGA KILL IT!?

I COULD do a little snippet of such a cute idea!

“Sooga! Check it!”

“Master Kohga! You MUST cover-”

Kohga swatted his hand away, already tired of his fussing. They had agreed to do another double date with Link and Mipha, this time, at the beach, just a bit away from the Lurelin village. More specifically, Clarnet Coast. Link was actually the one who suggested the place (and he even did the honor of slaying all the monsters for them, less they become a pain in the ass), and Kohga dressed accordingly. Aka, In nothing but his mask, and his swim trunks. It was TECHNICALLY against Yiga culture to be so exposed in public, but you know what, he was a slut without rules. The one WITH rules however, was Sooga, who was apparently quite surprised by the sudden change of attire. Hell, he was standing in front of him, as if Kohga was nude. 

“Don’t be a prude, Sooga! If anything, YOU’RE overdressed!”

Sooga cocked his head to the side, clearly confused.

“I...beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, we’re at the beach! It’s the PERFECT excuse to be more or less nude! We gotta get you something that lets you BREATHE in this heat.”

“....Yiga clothes are made for the Gerudo desert, how-”

“Shhhhhhh, I brought you shorts JUST in case.”

“You...planned this, didn’t you?”

“Get changed.”

Kohga threw the attire at him, and pointed to a nearby palm tree. Sooga sighed, walking almost shamefully to the tree. Kohga grinned as he joined the happy couple, who seemed to be making a sand castle. Oh this. This was precious. Kohga squatted next to them, holding up the sheikah slate, and snapping a pick of them both. Mipha pouted, playfully throwing some sand in Kohga’s direction.

"I wasn't READY for that! I'm covered in sand!"

“Shhh! You guys were cute, shut up. Adorable sand castle by the way.”

Mipha looked him up and down, chuckling into her palm.

“And adorable shorts, Kohga.”

Kohga looked down at his shorts. Red, littered in the best thing to exist; bananas. Kohga posed, much to the amusement of Mipha (and even to Link).

“Well I mean, not EVERYDAY I get the chance to show off the manliest body you’ve ever seen, might as well wear it in STYLE!”

“Did I have to do the same, Master Kohga?”

Sooga was suddenly right next to him, clearly a bit self conscious, given the way he seemed to be hugging his own chest. Kohga looked him up and down, nodding in approval. It was nice, seeing those scratched up muscles under the candlelight, up close and personal, but there was something so incredibly sexy about seeing those muscles out in the open, lit up by the bright sun. Honestly throw some chilly elixir on those titties, and you had yourself a big, sexy time. Kohga gestured wildly to him, making quite the scene out of it.

“Look at you, Sooga! You’re fine as HELL! Here, put your hands down.”

“W-what? I can’t be seen like this!”

Sooga took his hands away, gesturing to his own red shorts, decorated in pictures of salmon. Kohga took the chance to snap a pic, and Sooga immediately covered himself up again, turning away from Kohga. Kohga looked at the slate, showing it to Sooga.

“Look! You look great!”

“I did NOT want you to take a picture! Now that EXISTS! It’s bad enough I’m like this in public, AND in front of a princess, but now It’s in a PHOTO!”

Kohga rolled his eyes. Sooga had the body of a god, with the confidence of a fucking pebble.

“You look GREAT, Sooga! I have no idea what’s the issue, you fill those shorts out NICELY!”

Sooga sighed, rubbing at his quickly forming headache.

“Master Kohga, that's very sweet, truly, but this is humiliating.”

Kohga smacked his forehead, now getting a headache of his own.

“You know what- Link, make Sooga feel comfortable, take off your shirt.”

Link looked down at his island lobster shirt, and shrugged. He stood up, dusted the sand off of his hands, and peeled off his shirt, tossing it on the blanket Mipha brought with them. Sooga looked at him confused, Mipha covered her face, and Kohga...Kohga was looking.

“Good, but you know what, take off the pants too.”

Link didn’t even hesitate, peeling off his trousers. Leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Kohga loved Sooga, but god DAMN Link was a hot piece of ass. Kohga nodded in approval, totally not thinking about what he’d do to that body.

“See? Doesn’t that make you feel better?”

“W-no? How is this supposed to help ME?”

“Good point, good point. Link, ditch the undies.”

Link made the motion to do just that, before Mipha intervened, stopping his hand. Kohga scoffed.

“Prudes, all of you. In all seriousness, Sooga, there’s nothing ‘dishonorable’ about your body or whatever. We’re at the beach! It’s what you do!”

Sooga forced himself to put his hands down, but he didn’t look very pleased by this.

“Master Kohga, while that’s sweet, I very much disagree. NO ONE but you wants to see me like this.”

“I doubt that, honestly.”

Kohga motioned to Link in the back, who was...well, looking at Sooga’s extra weapon, suffice to say. Sooga groaned a bit in defeat, mainly because the Hylian champion staring at his crotch was a bit much for him to deal with right now. Mipha, ever the helpful one, offered a soft smile.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure it feels nice to be free of your clothes, even for just an afternoon. It’s good for your health to get some sun.”

Kohga motioned to Mipha, shaking his head.

“See, this is what I love about Mipha, team player. Now, let’s get some fun under our belts!”

Mipha tried not to gawk at the tattoos that littered their bodies, watching as they both started to make a fire. As in, Sooga made a fire while Kohga seemed to be basking in the sun. Mipha and Link continued to add to their sand castle (with her ignoring how shirtless he was), merely enjoying one another's company. Mipha waited till Sooga took a dip into the water, before turning to look at Kohga.

"I noticed you both have tattoos. Why is that?"

"Oh EVERY Yiga gets that once they're officially in. The one I got was gifted to me by my old man, and I did Sooga's."

Mipha leaned up to hand Link a seashell, making sure he wasn't going to fall.

"I take it he really does trust you. Tattoos ARE quite the commitment."

"Oh he does, totally,"

Kohga nodded, laying back and soaking up the sun. Kohga LOVED the feeling of the nice, hot sun, and the feeling of hot sand in between his toes.

"It's cute honestly. HE'S cute. Don't tell him I said this, but I'm kinda. Serious about him, I think. Which is weird. I'm usually not serious, in terms of my relationships."

He turned to look at her, and she was squishing her own cheeks, practically fawning over him.

"Oh! That's very sweet! May I ask what separates Sooga from the bunch?"

Kohga saw that both Mipha AND Link were looking at him, excited half to death. Kohga put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

"Don't get so mushy on me. I said I MIGHT be serious about him, I'm not getting on one knee here. I'm just saying he's...different. It's not just sex with this guy. He's genuinely and honestly sweet. He cares about me, and takes everything head on. If I told Sooga right now, to get me a piece of a sky, you best believe he won't rest till he got it for me. He's...serious. And it's so weird, how much I like it. How much I like HIM."

"That's terribly sweet, Master Kohga, truly."

Kohga noticed the sun was being blocked. He opened his eyes, and saw Sooga right there, dripping wet with water, a fishing spear over his shoulder, and that big, knowing smirk on his lips. Kohga glared at the two next to him, who conveniently went back to their sand castle. Kohga grumbled in embarrassment, before waving Sooga off.

"Shut up. Cook your stupid fish or whatever."

"Right away Master Kohga. But...one thing, if I may,"

Sooga leaned down, till his mask was inches away from his Master's.

"I like you too. More than anything in this life."

Before Sooga could get barked at, he turned, and skewered the fish, putting them by the fire (with some bananas and apples on a separate skewer for Kohga), and letting them roast. The sun was starting to slowly dip into the horizon, making for quite the view to go along with dinner. Kohga tried not to chat much, letting Mipha have her turn. She bit into her fish, nodding in approval.

"Thank you for dinner, Sooga. I'm really glad you picked this spot, Link."

Link was too busy fucking up his fish skewer to fully notice what she was saying. It coated his face in grease and random bits of food, making her chuckle.

"Oh Link, look at you, making a mess of yourself. Here, let me…"

Her voice trailed off when she held onto his face, wiping it free of food. That was when they seemed to have a moment, with Mipha holding onto his face, staring into his eyes. Kohga put the food down (and smacked Sooga's food out of his hands. Wasn't the first time), lightly shoving Sooga's side.

"Sooga, you, me, water, now."

Kohga was NOT going to mess with Mipha and Link having an ACTUAL kiss by the sunset. Kohga sighed once they seemed to be a decent space away from them, sighing.

"Hoo, we almost ruined their moment."

"I mean, you ruined my dinner though."

"You and your fish- look I'll make you some once I'm home, you baby. We just had to leave,  I didn’t wanna ruin it for them. If it makes you feel better though, least you and I get some water time together!"

Sooga just now seemed to realize that they were ankle deep in the water, and something about that made him chuckle.

"I suppose taking a swim with you is a fair exchange. You do know how to swim, yes?"

"I can! I'm no Zora, but I do a killer doggy paddle. I just don't LIKE swimming exactly. It's usually just cold and wet, and I HATE cold."

Sooga held onto his hand, taking him as far into the water as he could, chuckling.

"My elder sister taught me how to swim. She had a Zora boyfriend, so she was well versed. I remembered every Sunday she'd take me out for a swim, we'd have enough seafood to feed the whole town."

Kohga chuckled too, gently making them stop before they got TOO deep into the water.

"You liked your family, huh? You talk about 'em like you still miss them."

"I do. Family is VERY important to me. I don't talk to them very much, for...reasons. But it's fine."

Suddenly Sooga pulled Kohga right to his chest, looking right down at him.

"I'm planning on having another family quite soon."

Kohga would've been creeped out by that,  the idea of a huge family. But there was something so tender, so honest about his eyes. It made the idea sound...nice. Kohga chuckled, reaching up to cup Sooga's face in his hand.

"Good to see that Mipha isn't the only one getting that picture perfect moment."

Kohga reached up a bit to try to kiss him, before something touched his leg. A fish. A goddamn slimy, slippery, DISGUSTING fish. It made Kohga jump up, just in time for Sooga to catch him in his arms.

"What's wrong?!"

"A FISH touched me! Sooga don't just stand there, kill it!"

Sooga would question it, but he was smarter than that. He sighed, gave a quick apology to the fish, before bringing out one of his weapons, and stabbing the fish below him. At least it was a quick death.

"Happy?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Stupid, gross fish. If it was up to me id just get rid of them all. Ew. It TOUCHED me. Imma cut off this foot. Can we get back to dry land?"

"Yes, Master Kohga."

Sooga threw the dead fish towards a pack of birds (he'd feel evil, wasting a life like that) as he walked back up to land. Just in time to catch the two young lovers trying to keep their composure after what was most likely a heavy makeout session, given the blushing faces, and the lipstick smears all over Link's face. Perfect opportunity for a picture, which Kohga was more than happy to take. Mipha chose to change the subject entirely, chuckling awkwardly.

"So uhm, have a nice swim I t-take it?"

"Great, up until a fish touched me. Take it Link over here was having the same problem, eh?"

Mipha hid her face in her hands, whimpering in humiliation. Their relationship was still so new, so she was VERY embarrassed about it all. Kohga however, just found it adorable. Kohga looked up at Sooga, grinning ear to ear.

"I'm SO proud of myself for this, let that be known."

"I can tell, Master Kohga. The clan will be excited to hear of today's endeavor."

Mipha nearly jumped up, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You TELL them about me and Link?!"

Kohga shrugged.

"Well yeah, we ALL ship you guys. Everytime something cute happens, I tell 'em."

Mipha cupped her hands over her mouth, as if in terror. Link seemed to take that as a cue, and drew out his sword. Kohga glanced at Sooga.

"Sooga, you can run fast, right?"

"Fast enough."

"HYAH!!"

------------------------

"Come on, that was KINDA fun."

Kohga chuckled. Link chased them for a good bit (the stamina on this boy), before they all seemed to collapse. Link and Mipha had ended up just a bit away from them, with Link being cradled in her arms. They seemed to be under a deep sleep, and it was a cute sight, seeing these two cuddling under the moon. Sooga sighed, shaking his head. Kohga was currently in HIS arms, and while that was sweet, the whole chase was something he could've done without. 

"It made you laugh. That's enough for me."

"You sap."

Kohga chuckled. He hadn't recalled when was the last time he had so much fun. Though…

"You're cold."

"Yeah, kinda. Who knew being wet at a beach during night time would make you cold?"

He chuckled. Kohga was a master at making a fuss of things, and Sooga was SUCH an enabler. Constantly tending to his needs. Sooga pulled him closer to him, clearly holding worry on his features.

"I can make another fire, Master Kohga, would that help?"

Kohga shook his head, a very sneaky, very nice idea in mind. Kohga cupped his cheek in his hand.

"Actually….I know what you can do for me."

"Anything."

Sooga meant it too. So honestly and openly. So cute. With his free hand, he tugged at those pesky boxers of his.

"Let me ride you~"

Sooga sputtered, clearly not expecting such a proposition. He looked around wildly, as if someone heard Kohga say something so lewd.

“M-master Kohga! We’re not in the safety of our quarters. What if we-”

“Look, if YOU don’t wanna do it, that’s a different story. But I know that after a long, long day of seeing you baking in the sun, I want you.”

Sooga looked hesitant, even as Kohga dug his face into his neck, pushing his mask aside a bit to kiss at just that sweet spot. Sooga wanted him, he could tell. He peered over to where Mipha and Link were resting a bit reluctant.

“I...suppose if you can stay quiet.”

“If I can stay quiet? Sooga, YOU’RE the moaner in this relationship.”

As if to prove it, Kohga tugged at his ear with his teeth, making Sooga moan far too loudly. He slapped his hand over his mouth, blushing up quite the storm. They stood still when they saw Link move a bit in his sleep, and sighed when neither seemed to wake up. Kohga chuckled, patting at his chest.

“See? You’re a loud boy. We’ll be fine though, I promise. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to keep a pretty boy quiet for me.”

Kohga put his hand over his mouth, sliding onto his lap and grinding in his lap.

“There we go, big boy. We’ll keep you nice and quiet, I’ll ride that cock of yours, and no one will know. YOU just have to sit there, let me do my thing, and let me know if the lovebirds behind us are starting to stir. Nod if this sounds like something you wanna do. If not, I’ll get off of you right now.”

Sooga seemed to stiffen, before he gave a nod. Kohga grinned, and peeled down those pesky swim trunks. Not fully, just enough to get their dicks out, and just enough, in case they had to cover up quickly. Kicking up a bit of sand in the process, Kohga got comfy on his lap, slowly sinking himself down onto that dick. That dick always felt DAMN good inside of him, and he relished in the feeling. He started off nice and slow, just how Sooga liked it. He kept his face buried into his neck, giving Sooga that voice kink he seemed to have.

“You handle me SO well. So nicely, like a good, good boy. It’s so great, isn’t it? Fucking you out in the open? Anyone can see me with you. Anyone can see me fucking MY Sooga. ANYONE could catch me riding this nice, big dick of yours. Anyone can see me taking you up my ass. You like my ass, don’t you? Like how it feels wrapped around this cock?”

Sooga nodded to his words, whimpering against his palm. He’d occasionally look over to Mipha and Link, just to make sure they wouldn’t get caught, but as Kohga kept going, kept riding his dick and nibbling his ear, Sooga wasn’t looking over to them anymore, focusing solely on his Master’s movements. Sooga even kept his hands on his ass, desperate to cop a feel for any part of his master.

“You’re so pretty like this. Liking my ass, liking my voice, liking ME. Do you know how cute you are? How pretty you look, getting FUCKED under the moonlight? It’s that bullshit romantic stuff you love so much. I hate that about you, but in the best way possible. You’re such a big, pretty wuss, and I’d LOVE to be caught taking you like this.”

Kohga loved the big, wet man underneath him, and Sooga loved the dirty talking, passionate man above him. It was stupid, it was bullshit, and Kohga hated the fact that Sooga came inside of him so goddamn quickly. The thick, sticky cum felt good inside of him, but it was so sweet, knowing that Sooga loved him so much, that he couldn’t help his cock. Kohga panted, stopping just for a second to watch Sooga lay there, shaking and panting. He could see the steam pour out of his mouth from behind his mask, and damn was it pretty. Kohga peeled his hand away, wiping his drool off on his swimming trunks. Sooga found his voice, though it was rather shaky.

“I...I love you, Master Kohga. I want to mar-”

Kohga felt the sudden rise of panic fill his heart. Oh no. Oh no. He was saying THAT word. The shit that scares the crap out of commitment issues guys like Kohga. It was why he pushed his head back, and shoved his dick inside of his mouth. He tried not to show that he was nervous as absolute shit.

“I’m not done. Let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

Sooga didn’t hesitate. Of course he didn’t. He sat there like a good boy, sucking and slurping on his dick, soaking his drool (and Kohga’s cock) in his drool. His eagerness, his moans, even the fascination in his eyes. It felt damn good to shoot a load of cum into his mouth, and even better to watch it dribble down his pretty chin. Kohga rolled off of him, letting himself thud onto the sand like a fat sand seal (but like, in a sexy way). They both sat there for a moment, covered in cum and the smell of the sea, just staring at the moon. It was so awful and romantic.

“Sooga?”

“Yes?”

“I have so much sand up my ass.”

“....me too.”

[cake-writes]

Little Lies (Part One)

Pairings: Steve x Reader x Bucky // Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angry Sex, Threesome, Punishment, Praise Kink, Oral (Giving & Receiving), Fingering, 18+

Other Warnings: Angst, and I mean A N G S T

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Master List

July 2015

The first time for Bucky was in Romania.

To say the mission had gone poorly was an understatement. The two of you went in guns blazing to a situation you hadn’t had time to fully investigate: a last-minute human trafficking transport. If you hadn’t jumped onto the ship at the very last second, there would have been no way to track it down and all of its victims would have been lost to the world.

The landing couldn’t have been worse. The gap between the platform and the ship was almost too far for him, let alone you, and he’d literally had to hoist you over his shoulder before jumped. While the harsh landing knocked the wind out of you, there were bruises, too, where his shoulder slammed hard into your abdomen.

It wasn’t exactly the best way to start a fight. 

Somehow, though, the two of you made your way down through the ship and after a tedious few minutes, the crew was either dead or captured – but not without a price. The victims had been killed as retaliation. Every single one of them.

He’d been relatively fine, all things considered – bothered by the end result, of course, but he was resilient. You, on the other hand, blamed yourself for not being able to save them. You’d managed to save the ship, but not its cargo and definitely not your dignity.

Bucky didn’t report back to HQ that the mission had been a failure just yet. Instead, he said it was a minor setback and that you were following up on another lead. It was a lie, of course. There was no lead. He’d seen the horrified look on your face when you realized what had happened and he knew that you couldn’t handle going back just yet. Being confined to the compound was the last thing you needed. You needed space. You needed to breathe. 

He could spare you an extra day for that.

You’d dealt with failures like this before, but they always got to you. They bothered you in a way that haunted him. He’d seen the effects a handful of times over the last couple of years you’d been working together, but he’d never gotten used to it. Not really.

It rained that night. The water was loud on the tin rooftop, a rapid cadence that kept him awake. There were two beds in the small motel room, one for each of you. Your belongings were sparse: one shared duffel for clothes, another for weapons and armour. You’d been working together off and on for so long that it wasn’t unusual to share, but efficient. Even so, his breath still hitched in his throat every now and then when he accidentally pulled out a pair of your panties by mistake.

You were sleeping soundly on the other side of the room, or so he thought – but he couldn’t see your face. At some point, he did manage to nod off, but only for a couple of winks.

Sometime in the middle of the night, his sheets shifted just slightly, and then he felt the bed dip. Bucky’s eyes slowly opened, vision blurry until your soft leg brushed against his and then he was wide awake in an instant. You’d climbed into his bed – got into bed with him – and all you were wearing was a tight tank top and a pair of tiny little sleep shorts that drove him insane.

This summer was particularly hot. Muggy. No air conditioning. That was your excuse for wearing so little when he’d teased you about it in recent days.

“What are you doing?” Bucky whispered, his voice rough from sleep. He was looking up at you in awe, blue eyes wide, cheeks flushed from the heat.

You lay down next to him, facing him, and slowly trailed your fingers down his bare chest. When you spoke, your breathy voice made his cock twitch. “You know what I’m doing, Bucky.”

His thoughts immediately started to race. He couldn’t do this. Not with you. Steve had been in love with you for months. He’d confided that to him because he knew how frequently the two of you got assigned together. He trusted Bucky not to do exactly this.

The only problem was that Bucky was in love with you too. Maybe even longer than Steve. He didn’t think it was worth sacrificing Steve’s happiness to pursue you - not for him, with his tortured past, with so many deaths caused by his hand - and he’d done his best to quell his feelings for the sake of his best friend. It hadn’t worked, and it wasn’t working now, either.

“Why?” was all he could manage to get out. Your fingertips felt like pure fire on his skin.

“Because,” you breathed into his ear, before your tongue traced the shell of it and he shivered, “you’ll make me forget.”

Then your perfect lips were on his, and he melted like butter. Your body was so soft, so warm, so pliable for him that he couldn’t stop. Bucky worshipped you with his fingers, his mouth, and finally his aching cock until you were spent three times over and he’d made a mess all over your stomach.

When he started to get up to fetch a wet washcloth for you, to help clean you up, you pulled him back to bed and said you’d do it yourself. You always had to do things yourself. You didn’t want him to take care of you. You didn’t want his aftercare.

Despite that, it was rare for you to seek help like you’d just done with him, and in some twisted way he felt wanted.  

Bucky fell asleep with you in his arms, but when he woke, the sheets were long cold.

August 2015

The first time for Steve was in Small Town, USA.

The two of you had been undercover for the last three weeks acting as newlyweds.

You put on a perfect southern drawl for your cover, and it drove him crazy in the best way. You were nothing like the sweet southern belle you pretended to be. You’d always preferred tee shirts and jeans – not that there was anything wrong with that – but the cute floral dresses and heels you wore here in this quaint little Kentucky town were dainty and ladylike. Seeing you in such pretty, delicate things was such a stark contrast to your usual attire that it made him see you in a whole new light. Where he’d always tried to treat you as a soldier first and a woman second, this mission blurred the lines.

That being said, Steve had always known how attractive you were. Every now and then, he’d catch the slip of a bra strap, or you’d lean over and your shirt would accidentally reveal far too much cleavage. Other times, the hint of your thong peeked out of the top of your tac pants. Not often.

He tried not to look.

While he very much appreciated your curves, whilst on a mission he usually focused on your beautiful face. He loved to see your eyes light up when you landed a particularly good blow, or when he saved your ass at the last minute. He loved the way you licked your lips before you fell into your preferred boxing stance. He loved the way your hair was mussed in a fight, the excited flush that came over your cheeks, the mischievous look you got when you fought alongside him. He loved you. Every part of you. He had for months.

And now, having you here with him in this tiny two bed, one bath safehouse, it was absolutely stifling. You cooked and cleaned and acted every bit the new wife – his wife – you pretended to be. You kept the house tidy for when the nosy neighbours popped by to welcome the two of you to the neighbourhood. You used a sweet southern drawl and shared your recipe for the best lemon bars in existence because darlin’, they’re to die for, while Steve searched their homes. The two of you were looking for intel that had been downloaded somewhere in this suburban, one block vicinity, but even Tony’s satellites couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. Steve’s theory was that the satellites were malfunctioning, because he didn’t trust technology. Yours was that whoever downloaded it had a secret underground doomsday shelter.

They were good guesses, but both were wrong.

Your cover was blown when you popped by the corner store for some groceries. Steve often came along in a baseball cap and sunglasses, just to keep an eye on the area while you quickly shopped. The guy in charge of the entire operation just happened to be there on one particular morning, and he’d recognized you both.

What happened next was a rookie mistake.

You’d both noticed them, of course, the two guys trailing you – so you went back to another house, some random residence, to throw them off your trail. It worked.

Around dinnertime, the two of you heard the explosion and, within an hour, it was on the news being blamed on a gas leak. Steve had gone to check out the scene quickly and discreetly. He was much faster than you, and it was much easier for him to get in and out unseen whereas you had been too shaken up to even try. He wanted to do this for you, so that you didn’t worry. He didn’t want you to worry. 

When he returned, his face was grim. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the evening.

Steve woke to the feeling of your soft lips on his bare abdomen. He was a heavy sleeper and it took him a little while to rouse. When he finally did, he found that you’d snuck into his bedroom; you’d pulled back the sheets to press kisses to every inch of his shirtless torso, from his stomach to his chest and neck and he just couldn’t hold back the groan you wrenched from him so easily.  

A few blissful moments gave way to the realization of what you were doing, and he took your hands in his, to stop you from doing something you’d regret. 

“Wait, wait,” he spoke quickly, hoarsely, barely able to resist your touch, “Talk to me, doll. Please.”

You didn’t.

His cock was rock hard when you straddled him, and he could only protest half-heartedly. He’d been wanting this for so, so long and he loved you and, fuck, he could feel how wet you were through your peach-pink panties, not to mention the way you held your lovely floral dress out of the way drove him crazy.

You laced your fingers with his and leaned down so that your breasts nearly spilled out of the cups of your lacy bra. He caught a well and proper glimpse of it through the unbuttoned front of your dress and, with your lips brushing ever-so-slightly against his, you sighed against his mouth, “Make me forget.”

Steve stopped holding himself back. He made you forget.

And in the morning, he knew he’d done his job well. You were gone.  

It was anyone’s guess who kept the secret longer.

No strings attached. That was the agreement. You’d made it perfectly clear that first morning, to both of them – when you’d left them to wake up without you, when you left their calls and texts unanswered, when you barely even glanced at them in the hallway at the compound until, in the middle of the night, you got them to make you forget all over again.  

You never got too close. Never spent more than one night at a time. You alternated between them too easily, like you couldn’t decide between two ice cream flavours. It was painfully casual and casually painful how easily you disregarded their feelings.

They never discussed it with each other. Not Bucky, because of the guilt he felt for betraying his best friend like this; and not Steve, because he well and truly felt used every single time but it was you and he dealt with it because he loved you. You were a dirty little secret that neither of them would ever admit to.

You didn’t, either. You were too selfish, too broken to do the decent thing and fess up to it. No one knew the extent of your secrets, especially not them.

It continued on like that for weeks.

The only real thing they knew about you was that you got nightmares so terrible that they drove you to use sex as a crutch. In each of their own ways, they tried to help you heal.

Sometimes you went on missions with Bucky and he left bruises on your hips that didn’t go away for a week. The one time he was gentle, you snapped at him, told him that if you wanted gentle then you’d get someone else to fuck you. He wasn’t gentle with you again. Instead, he slapped your ass until it was raw and you were crying, burying your tear-stricken face in a pillow. He hated himself for it.

When you went on missions with Steve, he was gentle. He was devoted to your pleasure, to loving every inch of your body, to making you come at least twice before he did. He liked to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he made love to you. Eventually, you’d get fed up and kiss him to shut him up. Every now and then, when he said too much, you rode his face until you came.

Weeks turned into months, and your nighttime escapades became more and more frequent. You started sneaking into their beds at the compound almost on the daily. At some point, you stopped caring about getting caught.

You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. Some nights, your nightmares made you remember that you’d fucked up too many times in your career. You’d gotten people killed. You’d murdered in cold blood. You went to him because he understood your self-loathing. He had lived it.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. Some nightmares made you realize that you’d done as much as you could, but you were useless. You went to him because he liked to whisper those sweet, sweet things into your ear, to tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it and he made you feel like you were suffocating. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. They both had their reasons for not saying a thing, and so did you. The fact that the three of you often shared a single room during these missions made it impossible for anything to happen, anyway, even if you wanted it to. Your little lies slipped right through the cracks.

Until one night, they didn’t.

Your nightmare was different this time. Louder. You thrashed. You screamed. You cried.

By the time Steve woke, Bucky was already at your side, gently patting your cheek to wake you up. His quiet whispers were the first sign that something was off. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

Then, when he noticed that Steve was up, Bucky explained far too casually, “She gets nightmares.”

As if Steve didn’t know.

“Yeah,” Steve said uncertainly, slowly coming over to switch on your bedside light. The brightness tended to work pretty well in his experience when he tried to rouse you from your nightmares, and at your soft grumble, he felt a little proud that it had worked.

He missed the unreadable look Bucky shot him for it.

When you cracked your eyes open, all your dazed mind saw was Bucky. He was sitting at your bedside with his warm hand on your cheek, looking at you with concern. He was close. He was there.

He’d make you forget.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt before you dragged him down to kiss you, your lips moving with the rough familiarity you’d grown used to with him. Your lips were so soft and your mouth was so pliable and as much as he loved the taste of you, he tensed up.

You had an audience.

When you pulled back to look at him, you remembered that fact. Steve was here, too.

Your eyes immediately shot from Bucky to Steve in horror.

Bucky muttered a curse under his breath before he went to finally explain what he’d been doing with you for the last several months – but he didn’t get the chance.

“You’ve been—” Steve started, looking between you and Bucky, not sure who to focus on first. He wasn’t even sure how to finish the sentence.  

You automatically went on the defensive. “Steve, it’s not what it—”

Steve said your name in a tone you’d never heard before. Angry. Upset. “How long?”

You swallowed, throat dry, unable to find an answer. It wasn’t often that your web of lies fell apart.

“Six months,” Bucky answered for you, calmly, but inside he was stunned and hurt that you’d even tried to cover it up to begin with. Fuck, of course you had. You’d always had too many secrets. He was one of them.

When Steve’s face fell at the admission, Bucky wasn’t surprised. Steve had been in love with you for over a year now. It made sense. He felt terrible, because he’d betrayed his friend for – for whatever the hell it was he had with you. Maybe it wasn’t love, not really, but it wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t even comfort. He didn’t know what it was besides a complete fucking mess.

“You’ve been fucking him this whole time?” Steve’s question was hushed, and when you nodded slowly, his voice steadily rose. “The entire time you’ve been fucking me?”

“What?” Bucky was caught entirely off-guard. He looked at you, dumbfounded. “You’ve been what?”

You swallowed thickly, putting on a brave façade. You had stopped caring about being caught, but that didn’t mean you wanted to deal with the fallout.

“Why does it matter?” you countered. “No strings attached. You both knew that from the very beginning.”

Steve let out a long, shaky breath. He didn’t get angry often, but even Bucky could tell he was downright pissed.

He was too.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Bucky asked you incredulously. “You—You led us on for months and you expect us to just be okay with that?”

You stared him down, doing your best to keep your features neutral. “Why not?”

The way Bucky said your name made it sound like a curse. “What the hell is wrong with you?”  

“You know what’s wrong with me,” you responded, irritated, crossing your arms over your chest.  “Why the fuck else do you think I come to you—”

“And me,” Steve interrupted. The vitriol in his voice didn’t suit him.  

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, glaring daggers at both of them. They knew what the arrangement was. No strings attached. They knew that there was no commitment expected on anyone’s part, and yet, because you’d done exactly that – not committed to either of them – they were angry. They were jealous.

You scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with me.”

It was directed at both of them. The room went so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

The way they were looking at you told you all you needed to know. They had. Of fucking course they had.

“Alright, that’s it,” you announced, stooping to collect your strewn clothing from the floor before you started shoving it, along with your other belongings, into your duffel bag. You’d each packed your own this time, because this mission was long and there were three of you. “I’m done with this.”

“No, you aren’t,” someone snarled from behind you. You didn’t care who.

What you did care about was that the door was slammed shut the moment you opened it. Steve was standing there, his palm pressed firmly against the door. It wouldn’t budge. You couldn’t leave.

“Move,” you hissed at him.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No.”

How petulant.

“Christ, Steve, don’t be a child—”

You were cut off, startled, when a metal arm snaked itself around your front from behind you – between your breasts, to grab your throat. Bucky’s chest was pressed against your back, and his lips were at your ear. “You don’t like it when I’m gentle, do you, sweetheart?”

Then Bucky shoved you roughly against the door. It hurt. Your cheek pressed uncomfortably into the wood, but his metal arm was a barrier, keeping from you from being too injured. The fingers of his flesh hand ripped – literally ripped – away your short pajama shorts and your panties, leaving your perfect ass bare and exposed.

When his grip tightened around your throat just a little, you got dizzy. You could still breathe, but he knew exactly where to compress your arteries to make you see spots.  

“Bucky, please,” you choked out, wanting to tell him to stop, that you’d had enough of this, but he shoved one of his hot fingers inside of you and it effectively cut you off. Instead, a strangled moan escaped you at the sudden intrusion. You weren’t too wet, yet, but your body was on fire and it was only a matter of time. You loved it.

A harsh slap to your ass made you wince in pain. That was Steve – sweet, kind Steve who’d always been gentle with you. Not tonight, he wasn’t.

“You lied to us for months.” Steve was beyond pissed, but his fingers sweetly slid into your hair until he gripped it in his fist, and you gasped at the sudden sharp pain in your scalp. “And you’re begging for it rough—”

When he slapped your ass again, you whimpered.

“Is that why you fuck him? Because he treats you like this?”

You started to protest, “No—”

But Bucky shoved another finger inside you at your obvious lie, and you squealed.

“Tell him,” Bucky whispered into your ear, biting the shell of it just hard enough that you shivered with delight. “Tell him what you told me, sweetheart. Tell him how much you love it when I’m rough with you.”

“I—” you began, when Bucky hooked his fingers against your g-spot and you leaned back into him with a moan. Cue another slap to your ass that sent you reeling. You were barely able to form a sentence, but you did your best, “I said if I wanted gentle, I wouldn’t have gone to him—”

Steve’s fingers tightened painfully in your hair. “No, that’s what I’m for. Right? Isn’t that why you use me?”

The way he spat those final words made your core throb.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, I use you. Both of you. I’m sorry.”

They both released you, then, and you crumpled to the ground, legs shaking. It wasn’t that you were scared, no. You were ridiculously turned on by it. You knew how fucked up it was, but you didn’t care. You were selfish.

When you looked up at the two of them from the carpeted floor, you nearly forgot how to breathe. You were familiar with the way Bucky was looking at you, his features hard as he used you as much as you used him – but not Steve. Never Steve.

They were furious, rightfully so, and your apology hadn’t helped at all – not that you expected it to. It wasn’t genuine. You weren’t sorry. Not really. The only thing you were sorry for was getting caught.

It barely registered that you’d been yanked up off the floor until your back hit the sheets.

The tip of Bucky’s cock was at your lips, and you opened your mouth for him without a second thought. The way he shoved himself down your throat was brutal. It was a punishment. You coughed and gagged, but he didn’t relent, even when tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. You hated how much you loved it.

What made it a little more bearable was when Steve started to devour you. He didn’t use the sweet, gentle kitten licks like you’d grown used to with him. He didn’t whisper words of praise. Instead, he ate you out with a fervour you’d never seen from him; desperate, as if to prove that he could do it for you, too. He forcefully held your hips down to prevent you from pulling away, and as he suckled your clit, he slid two fingers deep inside you, causing your back to arch into his touch.

He left bruises. Steve never left bruises.

You came in seconds, not even able to moan, let alone breathe around Bucky’s thick cock. They could still tell. They recognized the way your fingers curled in the sheets, the way your thighs shook under Steve’s strong hands.

As you came down from your high, you didn’t miss the look they exchanged – as if they were trying to figure out who should fuck you first. It stoked the fire within you that, just a moment ago, had nearly been snuffed out by Steve’s talented mouth. Now it was back in full force.

Bucky was the first to relent, to offer you up to his best friend like you were an object. It made Steve grit his teeth. He didn’t want pity.

He accepted anyway.

Steve manhandled you in a way he’d never done. He was beyond caring. If you wanted it rough, then that was what he’d give you. His cock was larger than average, and he knew it, too; he’d always warmed you up for it, used his fingers to stretch you out, prepare you. Not this time.

His tight grip on your hips left more bruises as he dragged you to your knees. You were soaked for him, absolutely dripping, and he slid inside way too easily. You gasped and buried your face in the sheets, thoroughly humiliated by the entire ordeal. You couldn’t meet their eyes. You were ashamed. For what, you weren’t entirely sure.

His other hand in your hair yanked your head back and away from the sheets, brought you closer to his body.

“Look at him,” Steve demanded. When you didn’t listen, he slapped your ass again, way too hard, and you shuddered at the excruciating pleasure. “Watch him while I fuck you, doll.”

Doll. That was the only semblance of sweetness you’d get from him tonight.

You finally did as you were told, obediently cracking open your eyes to meet Bucky’s. The look on his face was dark and mystified as he knelt on the bed, sitting back on his heels, his hand wrapped around his spit-slickened cock as he took in the sight of you being thoroughly used by someone other than him.

“Fuck, Steve,” you whined. “Let me touch him. Please.”

There was a certain desperation in your voice that neither of them had heard from you before.

Steve released your hair and shoved you forward, then, to let you do what you so desperately wanted to. You lay flat on your stomach, Steve’s hands spreading your ass just enough for him to watch himself disappear again into your slick heat. He had to focus on that, not on the fact that your hands were on someone else. It hurt too much.

That didn’t last long.  

Bucky took in a sharp breath the moment your lips wrapped around him again. Awful as it was to see you with someone else, it was also hot as hell and he knew something was wrong with him to think so. Those thoughts disappeared the second you willingly took him – all of him – down your throat. He didn’t need to force it down this time.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed, unable to look away from the two of you. The way you went down on Bucky wasn’t anything like he’d ever seen. It was hot and messy, with wet, sloppy sounds and choked gasps as you worshipped Bucky’s cock at the same time Steve fucked you so brutally.

After one particularly harsh thrust that sent Bucky’s cock all the way down your throat again, Steve pulled himself from you. He didn’t have to say a thing; Bucky already knew.

Your body was shifted and you were moved around like a sex doll, an object, into whatever position they wanted you in. Your back was on the sheets again, now, as Bucky hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you to him. His first idea was to shove himself inside you, but then he saw how red and swollen and glistening your perfect cunt was from Steve’s brutal treatment and he couldn’t help but lick a long stripe from slit to clit, making you shudder and writhe under him. You tasted good. You always tasted good, even now.

The stubble on Bucky’s face burned your thighs as he savoured you, pulled gasps and whines and moans from you that made him want you even more. When they became muffled, however, he peered up from in between your legs to see that Steve was kissing you, all teeth and tongues and he damn near blew his load at the sight.

Instead, Bucky finally buried himself inside you all the way to the hilt in one single motion. You didn’t need any further preparation, but there was still a slight burn from the stretch. He was thicker than Steve; not much, and you only noticed from having the two of them in such rapid succession.

You broke away from Steve’s mouth to hiss, “Shit, Bucky!”

Hearing his name on your lips made him swell with pride.

He didn’t get to hear it again, because Steve used his now-familiar grip on your hair to force your mouth down onto his cock. He made you taste yourself, but you readily complied, using your hands and your mouth in the same messy, sloppy fashion that he’d so admired. It made Steve’s toes curl.

It was like your roles had been reversed, almost. Steve was rough with you tonight. Bucky was gentle – or at least some semblance of it.

Bucky’s flesh hand held your waist, keeping you in place, but he didn’t leave bruises. He didn’t want to. Steve had already left plenty. The fingertips of his metal hand trailed slowly, teasingly from your neck, to your breasts and nipples, to your navel, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When the chill of his metal thumb met your clit, you let out a choked sound around Steve’s cock that brought him closer to the edge. Both of them.

Bucky’s thrusts became a little more frantic as he chased his release. There was something about the feeling of it, knowing you were being completely used by them, for their pleasure only, that kept you on the brink for what felt like hours. When Steve’s cock throbbed in your hands, you knew that he was close, too.

“God, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your walls fluttered around him. He knew the feeling all too well. You were nearly there. Being treated so roughly like this – even if he wasn’t the one doing it this time – was going to get you off like the masochist you’d always been for him. “You gonna come for us?”

A muffled moan was all you could manage with Steve so far down your throat.

“Christ, she’s so—” Steve started to say, but one particularly hard suck made him buck his hips into your mouth. “So good.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grip your hips harder, then. It was almost ingrained at this point for him to slam into you, to make the bed creak and almost break under his strength. Your body absorbed it all until the coil finally broke within you, and you pulled your mouth off of Steve to let out a sharp, strangled, unintelligible cry. The pleasure cascaded over you in waves as you rode out what was probably the best orgasm of your life, your fingers tightly squeezing Steve’s cock with each wave.

Bucky was next. He was babbling things – breathy whispers of your name, saying what a good girl you were, how good you’d been for him and Steve, how you’d taken them both so well, how much he needed to fill you up. In a hoarse, sexy voice you egged him on, rolling your hips in the exact way you knew he loved until he shoved himself as deep as he could go, spilling hot inside you, marking your insides like a brand.

It was in that moment that you took Steve back into your hands. You spit on his cock – dirty, nasty, wet – before you took him back into your mouth, your hands cupping his balls, your tongue licking every single inch of him. It was so sudden and he played into your hands like putty, his hips stuttering as he was brought to the edge—

Then you pulled off of him again, skillfully pumping his cock in your hand, resting the head of it on your tongue as you looked up at him through your lashes. The look on your face, so absolutely wanton and slutty and unlike anything he’d ever seen from you was what did him in – and when you begged him so desperately, “Come for me, Stevie,” he actually saw stars.  

The sounds he made were like nothing he’d ever made before, sounds that didn’t even register in his brain and he said things to you that he’d never said aloud. “Love you,” he gasped, “Love you so fuckin’ much.”  

Hot ropes of his cum painted your lips and your tongue before you took him into your mouth again, where you quite literally sucked the life out of him. You milked him dry. He’d been on his knees, but his legs shook and then actually gave out, making him fall back onto his heels and you – you greedily chased every fucking drop.

As you slowly regained your breath, the three of you collapsed onto the bed, the sheets a tangled mess beneath you. You lay on your stomach in between the two of them. Bucky was splayed out on his back, warily allowing you to rest your head on his arm and Steve was laying on your other side, facing you, with one of your legs draped casually over his.

It wasn’t aftercare. It was exhaustion.

When the silence became too much for you to bear, you said quietly, “I’ll request a transfer.”

They both shifted to look at you. It wasn’t a true apology, but it was the best they’d get.

Bucky’s eyes were soft, and he resisted the urge to reach out and stroke your cheek, to whisper that he wanted you to stay.

Quite the opposite, Steve looked alarmed, like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you even now which was insane considering, well – everything. You were toxic. That unspoken truth lingered in the air.

“No,” he rasped, sliding his arm over your lower back.

It wasn’t aftercare. It was possessive.  

That only seemed to solidify Bucky’s resolve, and he gently brought your head closer, more into the crook of his arm and shoulder. When he buried his face in your sweaty hair, Steve stroked the bruised, tender skin on your hips.

That was aftercare.

You were toxic, but you were theirs.

Part Two

[xpouii]

Hello! I’m alive! I’m in the middle of moving house with almost no warning so it’s been a packing party! Definitely a move in the right direction though, so no worries. HOWEVER, I am here to post one of my Secret Santa fics I wrote for Christmas! I hope y’all enjoy!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW Dapperstache (Jameson Jackson/Wilford Warfstache), bondage, light food play (honey), exhibitionism, sign language, background Marvin/Jackie, full NSFW tags below the cut!

NSFW Tags: Spanking, bondage, D/s, shower sex, blocked and (briefly) denied orgasms, handjobs, deepthroating, rimming, Anti mention and brief Chase appearance

“Alright!” Jackie said, clapping his hands. “Popcorn?”

“Check.”

“Cheesy movie?”

“Check!”

“Blankets?”

“If you want one you’d better get your own,” Marvin said with a playful grin.

“Oh is that so?” Jackie jumped over the couch arm, pushing Marvin onto his back and kissing him.

Marvin broke the kiss and laughed, “Fine I’ll share, but hurry up and get off of me. It’s the middle of the day and Warfstache is still around here somewhere.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

Marvin pushed Jackie off, sitting up. “He oozes magic. I would know if he left. He’s unpredictable and I don’t exactly want to be the piece of meat you dangle in front of him. I’m not getting double teamed!”

“I would never,” Jackie said.

“He’s persuasive, and he’s a menace,” Marvin said. “So just behave yourself until he’s gone, and until we’re alone, and when you’re not just trying to seduce me for a blanket.”

Jackie snuggled up to his boyfriend, who started the movie with a flick of his wrist. “Show-off.”

Just beyond the television, on the other side of a thin wall that let in almost every word of the previous conversation, Jameson was wishing for quiet. Not that he himself had any trouble being quiet—he couldn’t make noise, at least not easily. He could bang his hand on something—but his wrists were tied together—he could snap his fingers, but that was a signal he didn’t want to give. The only sound he was making—if he could be blamed for it at all—was the resounding smack of Wilford’s open palm against his naked ass. To be fair, that wasn’t entirely his fault although he was having the time of his life.

He was naked, tied rather unforgivingly at the wrists, the restraints looping beneath a rather extravagant ottoman—one he’d received it from Dark as a welcome gift—to his ankles. He was silenced, in a manner of speaking, not capable of signing in his current state, and also free from the expectations of conventional communication. He could snap his fingers for stop, and if Wilford squeezed his hand, he was to squeeze back if he was alright. Beyond that, Wil didn’t want him being distracted by silly things like ‘talking’. As it was, Jameson was free to bury his face into the decadent fabric of their makeshift spanking bench and moan for all he was worth, even his breath broke upon the magical, metaphorical barrier that kept him soundless.

Wilford, however, wasn’t naked, and the rough feel of his slacks against the striped, sensitive skin of Jameson’s ass made him squirm. He was talkative too, leaning in whenever he took a momentary break to whisper in Jameson’s ear. “You just eat this up don’t you, buttercup? Do you crave the attention? Or do you just want my hand on your pretty little ass?”

Wil landed a particularly hard hit on Jamie’s ass that would have crossed his eyes had he not been squeezing them shut already. Jamie felt relief that he was facing away, able to keep his less flattering expressions and reactions to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Wilford, but the relationship was fairly new; as far as the hierarchy of egos went, they were a little bit Prince and Pauper—only instead of switching places they had kinky sex in Jameson’s unlocked bedroom. Wilford was waiting patiently behind Jamie, but he usually expected an answer, even to his hypotheticals, and Jamie did his best to lift his bruised ass into Wilford’s hand. The older man chuckled, “That’s exactly what I thought. Aren’t you sweet?” He rubbed one hand along the multitude of marks he’d made, soothing the skin with a gentle touch. “I think it’s time to move on to something else, give this gorgeous behind of yours a little rest.”

Wil’s strong hands were on his hips then, pulling him backwards, and Jameson tensed in surprise, a silent yelp on his lips. He glanced over his shoulder, and Wilford smiled, “No peeking now, turtledove.”

Jamie lowered his face back onto the ottoman, jumping when Wil’s hand wrapped around his cock, giving a firm squeeze. He jerked his hips, trying to fuck into Wil’s fist, but the man moved his hand and grabbed Jamie’s hair, pulling his head back just enough to whisper in his ear, “So impatient. You’ll ruin the fun before it even starts. You don’t want to end this already, do you?”

Jamie shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he struggled to control himself, to be a good boy. Wilford leaned back, and his hand returned to Jamie’s cock, maddeningly still for a few long minutes before he began to stroke slowly. Jamie whimpered and moaned, his mouth opened around lust-mad nothingness as Wil’s calloused hand took him apart slow and discreet. Soon his whole body pulsed in time with Wil’s hand, spreading precum and desperation with each slide of his palm. Jamie’s body was already crying for release, for things just a bit faster, just a bit harder, but Wilford never let things end this quickly. Jamie already knew he was in for an evening of edging and denial, culminating in a mindblowing release—or none at all. Wil could be scattered sometimes, losing sight of his own plans and leaving Jameson to pick up the pieces of his own sex-wrecked body. These incidents were few and far between, however, and usually Wilford’s aftercare was sweet, swift and complete, leaving Jameson in a euphoria so complete he could sleep for days—if only their home was ever quiet enough to sleep for days at a time.

Wilford pushed his hips forward, teasing Jameson with false promises as he jerked him in earnest now, his other hand on the back of Jamie’s neck to hold him in place—not that it was necessary, given the complicated expanse of restraints holding him down. Still, Wil had a dom streak that made Jamie’s fantasies possible, so he would never question the things Wil did. Jameson wished he could whimper, whine, beg, but all he could do was take it, and bite into a mouthful of expensive fabric as he struggled against his impending orgasm. He’d never directly disobeyed Wil before, but it wasn’t that often he got direct orders, either. Wilford wasn’t always keen on sharing what he had going on behind the scenes, and this time was no different.

Wil’s hand was moving too fast, squeezing just right—or wrong—and Jameson lost all control. His hips jerked of their own volition, and Jamie threw his head back, arching his back as his body launched him into orgasm. Suddenly, Wil moved his hand to squeeze the base of Jameson’s cock, hard. Jamie sobbed as the familiar spasming of his cock was interrupted, and the pleasure he felt melted away into frustration, his cock throbbing in protest.

Wil released him once his cock stopped twitching, and a miniscule dribble of cum stained the ottoman beneath Jamie’s body. Wil smiled, untying Jameson and flipping him over without warning or decorum. Jamie’s chest was heaving, and tears were building in his eyes. Wilford leaned in and kissed him, squeezing his hand. Jamie returned it weakly as Wil tied him up on his back this time, his cock already hard again and laying heavily against his stomach.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” Wil purred. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Jameson watched him go, leaving the door cracked enough that an inch of the hallway was visible when Jameson lifted his head. The movie in the livingroom might as well be right beside him, as perfectly as he could hear it, and Wil was gone, even his boisterous voice fading away to nothing. Jameson let his head fall back and his chest heaved as the cool air of the bedroom prickled over his sweaty skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Jamie lay there for nearly an hour, according to the clock, and occasionally he could hear Wilford’s voice lift in a raucous laugh. Jamie and Marvin got into a lively discussion about their movie, and Chase had come in, yelled at by Marvin for tracking mud. Jameson’s heart had tightened when Chase rushed past the cracked door, and the wind of his movement nudged the door just a bit more open. His cock jumped, and he couldn’t help but blush at just how hot the thought of being caught made him, even though he was mortified at the same time. The worst of it came when he heard the buzzing snarl of Anti coming from the kitchen, and he actually started to struggle in earnest against his bonds, worried until he heard Wilford’s footsteps approaching—he’d recognize those jaunty, heavy footfalls anywhere. He calmed and the relief must have been plain, because Wilford chuckled as he pushed the door closed behind him. “Look at you; did you miss me that much?”

Jamie blushed and nodded, glancing to where Wilford held his hand behind his back; he lifted his eyebrows in question. Wilford chuckled, “Oh this?” He pulled his hand out from behind his back, showing the bottle of honey, a little bear-shaped bottle. He shook it playfully, “You don’t mind getting a little sticky, do you?”

Jamie smiled, biting his bottom lip as Wilford set the honey on the bed and started undressing. Each opened button, each slide of fabric lit up Jamie’s brain like a Christmas tree. Wilford was muscular, solid and strong and while Wilford’s ass and legs were on display often enough, he was so seldom shirtless that it was a gift to see his broad chest and thick, rolling biceps unencumbered by clothing. Wilford picked up the bottle and moved back to the ottoman, popping the cap open, “Ready, darling?”

Jamie licked his lips and watched as the honey poured from the bottle, hissing silently when it hit his cock; it wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. He squirmed as the thick liquid spread over his sensitive skin, pooling at his groin. It warmed quickly against him and Wilford’s hot tongue was soon helping things along as he licked the honey away with a deep, indulgent moan. “You know I can’t resist sweets, sugarplum,” he muttered before taking Jameson’s sweet-coated cock into his mouth.

Jamie would have bucked up if Wil’s hands hadn’t gone to his hips, pinning him down. The tight, wet heat on him brought little tears of frustration to his eyes—especially when Wil pulled back to lap up some of the honey dripping down his balls. Jameson’s fingers twitched, wanting so badly to beg for more. Wil pulled back and smiled up at Jamie, his pink lips and pinker mustache sticky and wet; he pulled Jamie downward again, his tongue finding the determined trail of honey that had reached his ass. He licked it away before it reached the ottoman, and was quickly distracted by the taste of his lover; Jamie squeezed his eyes closed as Wilford ate him out, moaning and muttering praise at how Jamie was even sweeter than honey.

His cock was throbbing with every beat of his heart and leaking—though he was already so wet and sticky it wasn’t easy to tell. Wil was tongue-fucking him out of his mind and he was starting to worry he’d cum without permission and be punished. He fought against Wilford’s hold on his hips, wanting to beg, wanting to warn, and though Wil ignored him for another few long, languid licks, he did eventually pull back and look up with a grin.

“Getting antsy?”

Jameson poured every ounce of please into his eyes, and Wilford cooed in response, “Oh honeybee, you’re so sweet. You know all you ever have to do is beg.” He moved up, letting Jamie’s legs rest over his shoulders as he took his cock down his throat, releasing Jamie’s hips to let them move of their own accord.

Jamie didn’t last long—something about permission always made him cum faster, and he tried to be gentle as he thrust up past Wilford’s lips, his mouth falling open in a moan that he felt in his own chest as he came. Wil swallowed a bit before pulling back and pushing Jamie’s cock up so he painted his own stomach and heaving chest. Wil watched lovingly as Jamie’s orgasm wrung him out. When he was down to trembly aftershocks, Wil moved quickly, untying Jamie and squeezing his hand. Jamie squeezed back, then he stiffly signed, That was amazing.

Wilford chuckled and gathered Jamie into his arms, kissing him deeply as he walked to the door. He kicked it open and carried Jamie across the hall into the bathroom, kicking the door half-closed behind them. He stood Jameson in the shower and—after making sure he could stand, he turned on the water which—unlike the mansion’s showers—started off fairly cold. Wilford used his hand to block it from hitting Jamie until it warmed up. “What else can I do for you, sweetness?”

Jamie stared at Wilford for a moment and felt heat rise in his cheeks, Will you stay and fuck me?

A mischievous grin spread over Wil’s face as he made quick work of removing the rest of his clothes.

Back in the livingroom, Marvin glanced up when Chase came down the hall, avoiding his gaze after the chastising he’d gotten from the magician earlier. He pushed the unlatched door of the bathroom open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Seconds later after a muffled fuck Chase burst back through the door and slammed it behind him, “Lock the fucking door for once!”

Marvin and Jackie exchanged glances and Marvin rolled his eyes, “Told you he’s a menace.”

Ko-fi

Commissions

Feel free to message if you’d like to be added, subtracted or moved to any of my taglists!

TAGLIST: @holleratyourbouyancy  @azayta  @sanderssidesnsfw

[save-ben-swolo]

As much of a hardcore reylo I am, I don’t want a romance or babies. Running away together at the end? I’m for it. But with the pacing of the past 2 movies, a wedding and what ensues would seem like a bit too much or rushed even

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it’s taken me a while to get to, I am behind and trying to answer in the order I received them. 😑 (broken record). ANYWAY!

You certainly don’t seem to be alone in that thinking! I answered another Anon the other day who had a similar opinion. If you haven’t seen it yet my response to them regarding not wanting a Reylo wedding or babies in TRoS is here.

I generally agree with you. As you can see in my response to the other anon, I also don’t want babies or a wedding in TROS because it does feel rushed to me. Others have pointed out that the wedding or child reveal could be in a “flash forward” at the end which I guess is fine? I think I would still personally prefer them to essentially be “dating”, for lack of a better term knowing that their bond brings them well beyond the realm of “dating”, at the end as outlined in the other ask.

The only thing I don’t necessarily agree with you on is you not wanting “a romance” between them in TROS. Their developing romance is central to the plot and mark my words: we will get an epic Reylo kiss in TROS.

The pacing and growth of their relationship from the end of TFA to the end of TLJ was ASTRONOMICAL. Seriously, think about how far Rian took that relationship in a single movie.

Rey starts TLJ having recently sliced Ben’s face open and legitimately thinks he’s a monster/garbage person. The first thing she does in TLJ is try to kill him again by shooting him on sight. She starts seeing him as a troubled human being instead of a monster after being “FORCEd” (get it 😏) to talk to him without threat of violence. Bonus she sees him shirtless which makes her see him as a stupid hot troubled person.

So we then go from wanting to murder him to, no shit, crying with him about personal problems/holding his hand and proceeding to fight a legendary man she looked up to over the fact that he essentially betrayed this person she now feels a deep connection with and is starting to believe in. She believes in him SO MUCH now, and (let’s be real) is game for some low key makeouts, that she ships herself to him in order to “rescue him” from the dark. Anyway you get the idea.

I didn’t mention Ben’s POV because he’s wanted Rey by his side since TFA and didn’t even have a HINT of wanting to retaliate against her after she rejected his teaching proposal and jacked his face up so, I think that speaks for itself. Bonus puppy dog eyes at the end of TLJ. Boy is still interested.

This got stupid long but my point is, if Rian can take their relationship that far, believeably I might add, in one movie after it ended horribly in TFA, JJ can take their “complicated” we shared some deep feelings, almost made out in an elevator, fought by each other’s side, and suffered a not great proposal relationship to WE ARE KISSING NOW easily in TROS. Especially with Bendemption firmly in view and knowing they will have to be working together against Palps.

In fact, I am unashamedly gunning for an implied sex scene because I feel the kiss is a given. Positions are open on team “implied Reylo sex scene in TROS” for anyone interested in joining. Inquire within. 🖤

[bellamyblinkingrapidly]

Why did Season 7 disappoint me at first... but now it doesn’t?

Part 1 of 3

Season 7 was a pretty unique shift for GOT. All these characters we have watched do their own things in far off lands kinda converged. The world got a little smaller than it has in the past, and for me there was a little bit of a fan service feeling to that. But I got over it. 

The first time I watched GOT all the way through I was biggest Dany stan there is. I practically watched the show FOR HER. I couldn’t wait to see what awesome shizz she was gonna do next: burn the Khals and get the whole khalasar? badass take back her home on Dragonstone? here we friggin go! 

And something I had wanted for Dany for a long time was... true love! Yes, I am sappy and I’m a shipper and I NEEEEEEDED some romance, okay? So what did I conjure up in my head (and everyone else was kinda on the same page)? Obviously in A Song of Ice and Fire, Jon is the ice and Dany is the fire and they are going to meet up and fall in love and have sex and have a baby that is going to to be the epitome of “ice and fire.” So when Jon gets a raven from Dragonstone, when he decides to sail to see her, I was like YAS BITCH. Take off your clothes, let’s go. And Jonerys consumed my entire thoughts about Season 7 (besides those few moments of bliss when the Stark children unite & LF gets what’s coming to him) 

I WAS ROOTING FOR THEM. Okay? 

And kindly blindly to be honest. I mean they entered the cave, and I was just like “yes Jon has game in caves!” I mean LOOK AT THAT ARM TOUCH OKAY?

And she asked him to bend the knee, and I was like oh boy JUST WAIT til he bends the knee for you... (And hits you with that “I just wanted to kiss you there”) 

I actually found that Jon was a great love interest for Dany. She’d never been with someone like him - he didn’t have pride and he didn’t have to flaunt his strength. He is actually super insecure deep down inside, and I think a part of her really enjoyed that. The part of her that also has that insecurity, and the part of her that likes to be dominant. She liked that he was into her. She liked that he seemed to have the respect of his people. I mean Jon is like pretty dope.

Something I think is pretty important is that he’s a hero, but he’s one who has died before and come back to life. The last man Dany loved (enough for her to go kinda crazy and have emotional outbursts) was Drogo. She tried to save him - with magic - and couldn’t. In a way, Jon represents someone who has surpassed her greatest fear in the love department - I’d imagine she’s terrified to truly love someone again and lose them.

All of this is like working well. Working up to some kind of big romance. Sure things started a little shaky. Sure maybe things are a little reserved right now, but they are royalty. It’s fine.

There were so many clues that they were gonna bang and have a baby. I mean... 

But when it came time to do the deed. When it came time for their romance to really blossom... I found myself being a bit disappointed.

I didn’t like him giving away his throne, giving away the North after she’d just said she’d fight for the North. I kept thinking whyyy did he do this? I didn’t want that to be a gesture of love. And yet I also wanted them to bang, so I was kinda happy about shirtless Jon. It’s pretty obvious Dany was falling for him before this point - the way she rescues him, looks at him at the wall. IT WAS ALL THERE. READY TO GO. She sees his scar. She’s emotionally vulnerable from losing one of her children TO SAVE HIS ASS. Let’s go. 

Buuuuuut I sure as hell didn’t find any enjoyment in the actual sex scene. I actually wanted to look away. ME. A Dany stan. A Jonerys stan. I HATED THE SEX SCENE. There wasn’t any passion in my opinion. I wanted there to be. But the whole thing felt OMINOUS. It felt DAUNTING. It felt like... duty. Or like this HAD TO HAPPEN. But that this isn’t the right path. I didn’t get what I wanted out of it.

I wrote this off as poor chemistry. Poor acting. Poor writing. For a long time.

I think at some point you really have to ask yourself if those things are present enough in the past seasons to be relevant contenders for the problem on-screen now. Some examples: 

Dany & Khal Drogo - who we KNOW Dany was in love with 

Dany & Daario - her lover, but who she didn’t truly love 

Jon & Ygritte - who we KNOW Jon loved 

The look on Jon’s face here is striking to me because I feel like this is the face I’ve seen him make all season... 

And some other people in love: 

Here’s my best attempt at finding images of Jon and Dany in moments of smiling, passion, laughing, etc. the way that these couples above are shown: 

I’m sorry but there’s SO FEW instances of them actually making a connection outside of trying to form political bonds. Many of these images could mean vastly different things. There’s a few that show us, yes, obviously they have a connection I mean they obviously had sex. Maybe their relationship is more serious... maybe it’s just the gravity of what’s going on. But all these relationships happened in times of extreme stress and danger, and still they all found the lighter side. They all laughed and smiled and joked together. They had serious moments of vulnerability and passion. There was time enough for this to develop between Dany and Jon, and I just don’t feel like that time was used to the fullest extent... which makes me wonder why? 

I absolutely believe Dany is falling for him. But is Jon falling for Dany? 

He’s pretty good at resisting his ~urges~ Jon with Mel is turned on, but def not in love. In fact, he turns her away because he’s still in love with Ygritte 

I know Tyrion says he is in love with Dany. And maybe Jorah thinks he is. Ser Davos even notices Jon is ATTRACTED to Dany. But Tyrion could be trying to manipulate Dany, who has recently discarded his own advice for Jon’s. Jorah is jelly of any man in her life who isn’t him tbh, and he prob looks at Jon as the son his father always wanted - the man he couldn’t be. 

Jon LOVED Ygritte. And yet... he betrayed her. He left her. He sided with his brothers of the Night’s Watch. IT TORE HIM UP. POOR JON. ILY. 

You can’t convince me that Jon’s feelings for Dany have progressed to Ygritte-level yet. I’m not denying he feels something though. 

If he betrayed Ygritte for the Night’s Watch, won’t he betray Dany for the North and his family? I don’t know that I believe Jon is sleeping with Dany for political reasons. That might be too much of a character leap - although I’m not sure... he slept with Ygritte to fit in with the wildlings, but he also was already falling for her. He essentially used her to prove he wasn’t still a crow, even though he really did love her, he still used her. 

Jon fell in love with the “enemy” before, and I think he learned a lot. Namely that they were not the enemy, but also that it complicated matters a lot. It also got her killed, and he dealt with a lot of guilt for everything that happened. Neither of them got a happy ending. I don’t think he’d make the same mistake... I don’t think he’s madly in love with Dany like I originally wanted to believe. He told Ser Davos “There’s no time for that.” And I believe him - More on that in the next post. 

Furthermore, at this pinnacle love scene there’s a huge reveal (R+L=J) that makes it kinda gross, super incest-y, and all around NOT THAT ROMANTIC. It’s not sexy. It’s not romantic or sweet. Everything about the way it’s written and filmed leads you to kinda squirm or kinda not root for this to happen.

Tyrion watching in the hallway with a look of “what have they done now?” “what will this mean” Is just MORE EVIDENCE THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG! 

As a Dany and Jonerys stan, it was hard to see this and come to terms with it. It was hard to realize that the show itself was leading you away from their union being a good thing or a lasting thing... 

[thelionshoarde]

to the unknown; mature; shance

scenes from a post-series space war epic that i will probably never actually write - anyway this is what happens when i read too much star trek au lol - rated mature

In the mess Lance grimaced at his dinner tray. With one hand he flicked the edge of the dinged metal, watching it rattle. Something gelatinous and vaguely green-colored jiggled in protest.

“I thought I left behind space goo,” he muttered. “God, I would actually kill for some mac’n’cheese.”

“Homemade or Kraft?” asked Matt.

Lance wrinkled his nose, looking up at the man diagonally across him, holo-displays arrayed about his own half-eaten dinner as he scrolled through cramped lines of glowing text. A lens in his glasses was cracked. The left, and Matt kept reaching his hand up to rub against his eyebrow, probably not even registering the pain of eye-strain, let alone the gesture itself.

“Either,” Lance admitted. “Hell, I’d toss you out of an airlock if it got me a single packet of string cheese, Holt. What’re you looking at?”

Ignoring the threat, Matt shrugged with an awkward, bird-like hunch of his shoulders. With the hand not pressing into his eye socket he grasped blindly for his spoon and scooped a bit of processed nutrients onto it. Lance watched it slip off the side with a grimace and roll of his stomach.

“Not sure yet. Let you know when I find out, though, if you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Deal,” Lance grinned.

Sharp, quick footsteps sounded out behind him. Lance felt his spine tense at the sound; only a soldier on a mission could sound quite like that, after all. He was entirely unsurprised when he found an Ensign hovering at this elbow, hesitant to interrupt.

“He’ll fuss if you don’t finish your dinner,” Matt said, voice mild with distraction.

Lance ignored him and the truth of that statement. Turning, he propped his cheek on a fist, elbow sliding onto the table and butting his tray away from him. He smiled crooked at the young woman standing in front of him, uniform neat. New recruit, probably; not yet worn down by the reality of her new station.

“Why, hello there. What can I do for you?”

She blinked, startled. “Ah. Your husband --”

Matt choked down a snort, badly. Lance’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline, grin growing. He watched as a mortified, mottled blush flooded her face. “Your -- I mean! The Captain requests your presence in his ready room,” she gasped, horrified.

It was always awkward when gossip got mixed into official business. Well, for others. Not for Lance. Lance ate that shit up like a five-star meal.

“Mm,” he hummed. “My husband wants to see me, does he? And in the ready room? Goodness, goodness.”

“Lieutenant Commander McClain,” the Ensign croaked out, nearly quivering. “I apologize. I didn’t mean --”

“It’s fine,” Lance said, flapping his free hand at her. “What was your name, Ensign?”

“Adams,” she squeaked.

“Thank you, Ensign Adams. Back to your post, then. I’ll go and see what’s bothering sweet cheeks.”

The Ensign made a strangled noise, swaying where she stood.

“You’ll get used to him,” Matt offered. Then he hesitated before admitting, “Maybe. Hopefully? Okay, probably not. He’s a mess. But hey, if you’re hungry, he’s not going to finish his food, you know. You’re, hmm. Very pretty for an Ensign, miss. What was your first name, again?”

Lance dropped his fist, turning to stare incredulously at his lead scientist who was gazing with open admiration at a woman nearly half his age and no where near his ranking. “You are forty years old, old man.”

“But I’m not dead,” Matt said, voice plaintive. Jesus, Lance hoped he hadn’t been that -- no, he had definitely been that bad. Ugh.

Lance said, voice clipped and professional, but deliberately warm, “Dismissed, Enisgn Adams. And if this grandpa tries to bother you come straight to me and I’ll toss his ass out of the airlock, understood?”

She nodded frantically and -- smart woman -- escaped before they could say anything else. Matt made a displeased noise. “Marriage has changed you, McClain.”

Lance snorted. “Sure, it wouldn’t have anything to do with age, and the passing of time, and the appearance of maturity. Or, you know, a war we’ve been fighting for --”

“Shut uuup,” Matt said, letting his spoon fall into his goo with a splat.

“-- what, a decade? An eternity? Ugh, yes, blame it all on monogamy, that’s the ticket.” Lance sniffed, and rose from his chair. “Have fun with your reports, Commander. I am going to go and see my husband. And possibly get some. If I’m very lucky and very, very naughty.”

“Blatant insubordination, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Sure, sure,” Lance muttered as he ambled away. He heard the scrape of his tray against the table as Matt commandeered it. “Doesn’t even blink at the death threats -- but the mention that I’ve got a real sex life? Suddenly it’s all business, no fun.”

He grinned, and hurried through the halls to the Captain’s ready room.

* * *

“I’m getting too old for this,” Shiro sighs, unzipping a boot and letting it fall to the floor with a hollow thunk. “What’s the official age of being Too Old For This Shit, anyway? Forty-five? Fifty? Seventy-three and a half?”

“Oddly specific,” Lance calls back, squinting at the dark shadows beneath his eyes beneath the clouded mirror. “How about -- when we’re dead?”

“Oddly morbid.”

Lance listens to the thunk of the other boot, and then hears the small clink of Shiro unbuckling his belt. He purses his lips and angles his chin, examining the texture of his skin and despairing at what he finds. But there won’t be another shipment from Earth for a month, at least, and it is unlikely that even when the supplies arrived -- if they arrived; Lance tried not to deal in absolutes anymore -- his preferred facial cream wouldn’t be amongst them.

“Shiro,” he said, stepping back from the sink and tilting his head back to stare at the rusted rivets in the ceiling. They’re probably smoother than his skin at this point. “Shiro. I... am officially ugly.”

A loud snort comes from the bedroom.

“I mean it, Shirogane! My skin is -- ugh, I can’t go on like this. How can you love me with a face this hideous? My skin is so dry, I think I might already be dead. A mummy! Just bits of me flaking off, now, all my early glory lost to the annals of time, and -- SHUT UP, SHIRO, I’M BEING DRAMATIC.”

“You’re being absurd,” Shiro corrects, voice much closer, now. Lance tips his head back far enough that he can make Shiro out. He is standing just inside the door to the bathroom, broad shoulders taking up the space. He’s grinning. He’s also shirtless and pantsless and covered in scars and space-pale and beautiful.

“You’re space-crazy,” Lance says, still staring at him upside down. “This post has made you nuts, bud, or you’ve gone blind. It’s the only reasonable explanation.”

“Or,” says Shiro, nearly patient; the fuzzy edge of his voice betrays his amusement, however, “you’re being overly dramatic, because you are still the most beautiful being I’ve ever laid eyes on, Lance.”

“Hnn.”

Shiro comes closer, kissing Lance’s hairline. “Come to bed,” he murmurs. “Let me prove it.”

The position is making him dizzy, his heart pounds; that, and the promise in Shiro’s voice, the warmth of his lips against Lance’s skin. He lets his eyes close in a soft sigh, and surrenders.

* * *

“Raptor-7 locked on to target, go for engagement.”

“Copy that, Raptor-7,” said Lance, fingers rolling against the controls of his B-Ray, gloves crinkling with the motion. His vid-screen showed a vista of stars and darkness lit up with tightly furled clouds of red-orange-yellow fire; the blurred, twin yellow lights of other B-Rays cut through the dwindling ranks of Y’ks Hex Fighters, leaving hazy streaks that faded and dwindled as they assumed positions.

“Raptor-3 locked on target! Go for engagement!”

“Raptor-12 is locked and loaded, squad leader! Go for engagement.”

“Acknowledged, Raptor-3, Raptor-12. What’s your status Raptor-4? And -- Oi! Watch your flank, Raptor-11, shake that Hex before --”

A new explosion bloomed like a silent firework on the edge of his vid-screen. The monitor to his left, near his elbow, that kept track of all the ships in his squadron beeped, alerting him to the destruction of one of his own. Lance could feel the way the skin of his face tightened, but he hadn’t the time to flinch, or even to curse.

“Hold your positions, kiddos,” he barked into his com, seeing the way two Hex Fighters were trying to cut Raptor-6 from the pack. With an almost insolent tilt of his controls, Lance felt his B-Ray curve into motion, picking up speed. “And kill any bastard that comes near, you hear me? Raptor-6, evasive maneuver Alpha-Gold!”

“Copy that, Raptor-Daddy!”

Lance squawked, coming up beneath the two engaged Hex Fighters just as Raptor-6 did an impressive corkscrew back the way she’d come. Lance fired as the enemy attempted to engage, slowing as they pulled up and reversed course, blue energy trails going fat and sluggish against the black.

“That is definitely not appropriate,” Lance said, breathless as the two ships exploded and Raptor-6 soared free. “...I like it, keep calling me that. Best designation, ever!”

A crackle in the cockpit announced a private line from command; Lance grinned, heart pounding. Sweat was pooling down his spine, his neck felt tight, tense at the base of his skull. But he had no time for fear or worry or admittance of the two. “Uh oh,” he told his squad. “Looks like Daddy’s in trouble.”

“Whups,” chirped Raptor-6, entirely unapologetic.

“McClain,” barked Iverson’s voice, stern. “Is now really the time for this foolishness? Haven’t you a job to be doing? Do you want to die? You’ve already lost --”

“Oh, no!” Lance yelped, lifting a leg to aim for the comm control with his knee. “I think I’m having interference! Talk to you later, Admiral, so sorry, you know how much I love these little chats of ours!”

“MCCLAIN,” roared Iverson, before Lance had the outside comm cut off.

It was just him and his squad, now, in the black of space far from home. He said, “Listen up, kiddos. That is a Y’ks Model Signa Cruiser, fully combat-ready. You all know its weaknesses. We can’t let that fucker past Saturn, you hear?”

A chorus of grim but heartfelt acknowledges reached him.

Lance grinned, feeling his pulse race just as he reclaimed his position. Beyond the few straggling Hex Fighters loomed the massive, bulbous bulk of a ship armed with enough explosives to rip apart a planet. From its side streamed more Hex Fighters. They had to take it down before the enemy was able to replenish its ranks sufficiently.

Sorry, he thought, sparing a moment to press a gloved thumb against the picture tucked into his console, but refusing to look at it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the prize.

“Go time, my darlings,” he murmured into the comm. As he gunned the engine, streaking forward with his fellow pilots trying to match his pace as they rushed the enemy line, Lance couldn’t help but grin.