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#shiny down vest
fi-sneakerboy · 18 hours
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ashyslashyy · 2 years
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got told today "you look like you came out of hell" and "you look like you would say Heyy wanna make a deal" and i think thats really funny. Im just living my life
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
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Queue me sprinting to the inbox when I got the notice that your inbox was open! First off, congrats on 5k! Ok now business: can I request something along the lines of Ghost realizing he’s become attached his partner (maybe the reader is the same rank or a sniper or something where they’ve known each other a while) but it’s a situation where it’s a harsh realization. Like it was the one time they didn’t go on a mission together and the reader got hurt real bad (like Ghost only found out because he happened to be on the tarmac when the reader’s body was being carried out of a helicopter by medics) and that’s how he realizes he loves the reader. Because it hits him like a ton of bricks that he might loose them and just breaks down but it ends with him being by the reader’s side and confessing in his own way when they wake up
—Blood Like Obsidian
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞
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He doesn’t recall how he felt the moment he spotted your body being dragged out of that Helo, arm limp over the shoulder of one of the men in your unit. He doesn’t even remember what Soap was talking to him about on the tarmac. 
Because at that instance, the entire world seemed to stop in one horrible moment of mute panic and brown, wide eyes. 
Simon watched for a moment in shock, seeing your limp form as the soldier carrying you screamed out for a medic, moving as fast as he could in the direction of the on-base hospital; jostling you. Soap finally looks over.
“Holy hell,” the Scot breathes, head pulling back. 
Simon’s already sprinting. 
“Give her to me,” he growls to the soldier, who looks up at him in shock as he appears like an apparition. 
“S-sir, I—”
“Fucking hand her over!” Simon orders, eye flashing, his accent already making the aggressive voice even more so as he spits from behind his mask. 
The man immediately presents your unconscious form, blood so saturated into your gear that the black looks like obsidian; shiny like that natural glass formed after lava cools. There’s a damn hole in your chest. 
Taking you up easily, your dead weight makes his chest tighten, a sharp inhale sounding off from Simon before he grits his teeth and holds you tighter.
The Lieutenant grunts and takes off, feet slamming into the ground. He glances down at you in rapid intervals, gazing at your expressionless face for long seconds before it snaps back up to the road ahead—it’s no more than a few seconds before Simon slams his shoulder into a door. 
The barrier hits the far wall and nurses all look up in momentary fear.
“Help her!” He sounds desperate, and his hands dig into you harshly. If you’d been awake, you’d be telling him to let go before you developed marks. The nurses are still paused at the sudden appearance of the monster-ish man in black and gray. Simon barks like a dog, stepping closer. “Fuckin’ hell, are you bastards bloody deaf?!”
The others dash forward and tell him to place you on one of the rolling beds, and he does so without another word; heart so violently beating in his chest that he’s panting, breath loud in his own head.
The nurses are calling to one another, yelling to grab an available doctor and get you into surgery, beginning to wheel you away. Simon jogs along, eyes not leaving your face but ever silent with his hands clenched.
He hadn’t given much thought to how he felt about you—nothing was ever going to come of it. Years of missions and companionship with you. You, the ever-present bit of light that had stayed longer than all others. 
You, the only woman he would ever love.
The realization makes Simon’s legs nearly lock from under him, stumbling for a moment as one nurse peels back your vest and takes a pair of scissors to cut away the fabric over the mess of torn flesh and spitting veins.
You leave droplets of blood behind you, trailing off the limp hand that points to the floor from over the edge of the bed. 
Simon grabs at it and brings the hand to your chest, and he notices his own fingers shaking as he desperately moves his eyes up and down your body. He can’t even look at the wound—large, deadly. You jerk around with every movement as if you're already dead.
The Lieutenant feels his eyes burn with stark betrayal but barely pays attention.
As they’re pushing you into a pair of double doors, Simon remembers he was supposed to be with you during this mission, but had been reassigned last minute. The thought is so sudden he nearly forgets to ask where they’re bringing you. But the man recovers quickly.
“Oi!” He shouts, arms pushing him back from the door. Half of the nurses are telling him he needs to leave. He growls and jerks away from them, eyes flashing dangerously but always darting back to the door as it sways back and forth. 
But he knows why he’s out here—and the Lieutenant certainly doesn’t know how to operate on someone no matter how much he did.
He steps back and the rest of the nurses disappear back into your room. 
Simon puts a hand on the back of his head, gripping tightly at the fabric of his covering as he fears his teeth might break from how hard he’s clenching his jaw—grinding them across one another like a cheese grater. 
He loved you. Oh, God, he loved you. 
And he wasn’t there.
Turning away from the door, Simon paces the hallways until Soap re-joins him, any attempt the Sergeant makes at conversation is immediately slashed down ruthlessly. Simon’s shoulders widen; eyes grow more dead the longer you’re gone from his sight. 
It’s five hours until there’s any word, and when there is, the Lieutenant is alone again—his leg jumping along the floor and his hands held in a single fist under his nose; elbows on knees.
When he’s able to see you—stable but the future still uncertain, he sleeps there. 
Simon sleeps on the floor beside your hospital bed for two days straight, and the nurses are too afraid to tell him he can’t do that. So they don’t tell him at all. 
On day three, the man has only left the room to go to the bathroom; no food, no showers, or new clothes. He’d gone through worse, what was hunger? What was the small uncomfortableness in his chest? Nothing. It was nothing. 
During the day he watches your face, standing or sitting doesn’t matter. The nurses come and go, the doctor too, and he lets them work silently. Simon doesn’t speak to them.
But he does speak to you. 
And on day four, he plays with your fingers with a single hand, taking the flesh and watching it move. Feeling your pulse. 
The Lieutenant grunts. 
“Should’ve been there,” he hisses to himself harshly. “Should ‘ave never let you bloody go alone, yeah? Been by my side for ages.” Simon scoffs, glaring at the bedsheets. “My fuckin’ fault you’re ‘ere. No one can watch your back better, should’ve known that.” He misses the small twitch in your hand, too self-absorbed with his faults. 
Simon was never one for airing his grievances; the man was a master at suffering in the quiet nights. But this was a special case.
Your finger twitches again. 
“...Shouldn’t say stuff like that,” your words slur, and Simon’s head snaps up; heart lurching. He goes silent. 
Your eyes are only half-open, body heavy. You’ll be going back to sleep in mere moments, but you’d been awake long enough to understand what was going on. Simon watches, but his hand slips into yours. Grasping tightly. 
An unknown weight is taken from him at the twitch of a smirk on your lips.
“Care about you too, Big Guy.” 
He won’t tell you he loves you—he’s not that kind of person. He won’t explain the panic or the fear. Terror, really. 
But he’ll slip off his mask and let you see him, his thumb running the length of your knuckles. He’ll sigh and those browns will give way to the rare expressions he shows so few. 
He’ll let his head bend down to rest on your thigh as you fall back to sleep. Simon’s hand still holding yours.
You know.
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bratkook · 4 months
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deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk
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part one. part two. v-day drabble
pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah
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The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 
Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 
The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 
You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 
When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 
Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 
You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 
Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 
“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 
The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 
“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 
You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 
When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 
It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 
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You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 
The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 
You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 
He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”
“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 
Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”
You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”
He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 
“Those must be your favorite huh?”
You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”
He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”
“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 
“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 
“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 
“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”
“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”
His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”
“Y/N.”
He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 
“Jungkook.”
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Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 
He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 
Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 
“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 
“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”
You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”
He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”
“Got it. So you torture people?”
Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”
You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 
It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 
Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 
“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 
You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”
His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 
“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 
“My boyfriend, specifically.”
Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 
The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 
But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 
“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”
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You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 
You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 
Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 
The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 
And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 
Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 
It was innocent. 
“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 
“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 
“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 
“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 
“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 
Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 
Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 
Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.
Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.
The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 
The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 
It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.
“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 
“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”
“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 
“You know what?” you whisper. 
“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”
You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”
“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 
“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”
Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”
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The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 
“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 
“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  
“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”
“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 
He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”
“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.
“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 
Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 
“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 
“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”
Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”
“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”
Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”
“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 
“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 
“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”
Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”
“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 
“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”
That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 
It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 
As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 
“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 
“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”
“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 
“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 
You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 
“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 
“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 
“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 
He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 
Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 
Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 
“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 
“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 
Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 
It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 
Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 
He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 
“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 
You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 
“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 
Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 
Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 
He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 
“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 
“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 
Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 
The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 
“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 
You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 
It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 
“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling
“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 
“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 
“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 
“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 
Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 
“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 
“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 
Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 
The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 
The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 
“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 
“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 
Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 
“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 
“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 
“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”
You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 
“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 
Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 
“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 
“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 
“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 
“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 
“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 
The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 
“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 
“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench
“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 
“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”
The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 
“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”
He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 
Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 
Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 
“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 
“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 
It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 
A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 
“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 
“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 
“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 
“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”
You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”
He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 
“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 
“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 
It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 
“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 
“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 
“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 
He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 
Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 
“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 
“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 
“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 
Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 
“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”
Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 
Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 
“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 
“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 
The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 
“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 
He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 
You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 
“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”
Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 
If you were mine. 
That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 
“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 
Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 
“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 
The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 
All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 
You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 
But that's not your reality. 
You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 
As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 
Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 
“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 
“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”
Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”
And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 
Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x
Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 
Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.
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writer-komaru · 2 months
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Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗
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Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.
Characters✧ Boothill
Words✧ 1464
Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.
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“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.
You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.
You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.
“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?
“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.
Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.
“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”
“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly
“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.
He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”
“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.
“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”
You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”
“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”
“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.
“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.
“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.
“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.
“P-please….” You begged between gasps.
“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.
“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.
“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.
“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.
“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.
“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”
“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.
He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”
“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.
“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.
“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.
“A-aaagh!”
“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”
“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.
“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.
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Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)
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fox-guardian · 3 months
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[ID: Two digital drawings of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives in lovecore themed outfits. Both are on pink backgrounds covered in hearts with a larger heart behind each of them. The first image is of Jon, a thin Arab man with brown skin and long curly black and gray hair and a matching mustache. He's wearing a pale pink button down, a lilac argyle sweater-vest with pink hearts, pink flared trousers and lighter pink shoes. He's also wearing pink half-moon glasses with a matching chain with heart beads. He is posed as though floating with his knees bent and he has one hand over his chest and is holding a bouquet of roses in the other as he smiles to the upper right. There is a large shiny pink heart over his actual heart.
The second image is of Martin, a fat white man with freckles, a tooth gap, and long red hair pulled into a low ponytail and body hair. He's wearing a pale lilac button down and a long hot pink cardigan with the sleeves rolled up, pale pink trousers, hot pink loafers, a magenta neck scarf, and a gold belt, cuff, and scarf ring all with pink hearts as the buckle or charm. He is also wearing gold round glasses with pink lenses and gold ear gauges and two gold ear cuffs. He is posed as though floating with his legs tucked under him and his arms outstretched, holding out a floating shiny pink heart, smiling towards the bottom left. end ID]
~~~~
happy valentine's day gamers!! i wanted to do a lovecore jon cuz he's just so full of love and i thought well, i can't just NOT make a matching martin, so here they are!!
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
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knead
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A/N: so after rewatching Narcos all weekend and staring at the screen with big ole heart eyes for the infamous Javier Peña, I decided that he, like Joel, deserves nice things 🤍
~word count: 1.2k~
Summary: Javier Peña desperately needs a fucking break and to be kinder to himself <3
Pairing | Javier Peña x f!reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of guns, cigarettes, implied death(s) due to an unsuccessful raid, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort, Javi is incredibly hard on himself, takes place during season 3 of Narcos, both Javi and the reader speak Spanish, reader has no physical descriptions, no age gap, +18 minors dni!
Lo entiendo, hermano. - I understand, brother.
No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende - You don’t understand, brother. No one does.
No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, cariño. - You don’t have to wait up for me every night, querida. Your sleep is important too, baby.
Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa. - Jav, I always want to make sure you’re home safe
Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor. - Javi, please don’t apologize for this. Please, my love.
Siempre tan bueno conmigo - Always good to me
Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño - I love you with everything that I have to offer, cariño
Te quiero más a ti, Jav - I love you most, Jav.
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When he comes home, he’s still in his olive green tac vest. His hair is strewn about in a sweaty mess across his face. He reeks of gunpowder, stale tobacco, and disappointment. It drips from his pores and lands in a puddle at his shoes, once shiny, now dull, scuffed and speckled in blood. A failed raid. Innocence lost, and disappointment. So much fucking dissapointment that swallows Javier Peña alive.
An anonymous tip leading to more fucking bloodshed. So much for things being done differently this time around.
A hero? Hardly.
Javier doesn’t feel like a hero. Not when all he’s done is failed over, and over again.
We’ll get them next time, Javier.
Will we?
Of course. You know the Cali Cartel like it’s the back of your hand, Peña. We’re this much closer to bringing them to justice.
Justice? He laughs. If there was any justice in this world, I would be in fucking jail right now.
Lo entiendo, hermano.
Javier laughs, voice rasped in bitterness. He swings his keys around on his pointer finger, jaw ticked, muscles aching beneath the sweat stained fabric of his shirt.
No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende. Javier responds coldly and unlocks his car door before climbing into the driver seat.
He thinks hard on his failure the entire drive home. He doesn’t listen to the radio. He sits in silence, puffing away on a stress cigarette even though he swore he was trying to quit.
In the lowlight from the hallway, Javier is able to make out your sleeping mass under the colorful patterned quilt on his couch. He swings the door shut softly behind him and quietly locks it.
His back and shoulders are tense, aching with each step he takes. Another jab and painful reminder of his failure tonight.
Despite Javier’s protests, you always wait for him to return home. He appreciates this more than you realize. It’s his one sense of comfort that he feels he’s undeserving of.
No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, corazón.
Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa.
The worn couch cushions gradually press down from the weight of his body as he slowly sits down in the unoccupied space between your covered feet. He winces when he feels that annoying pinch in his lower back and brings his hands over his face, dragging them down over his alquine nose with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his gun, badge, cigarettes, and lighter. He tosses them onto the coffee table and leans back just as you begin to stir awake from the sound.
“Jav?” You murmur softly and subconsciously reach for him over the blanket.
“Its me, cariño.” He rasps. His hand reaches towards you in the dark, finding you soon after. He laces his fingers through yours.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly, sitting up and facing him.
“No. I’m not okay.” He admits.
“What happened?”
He looks over at you through the darkness and shrugs his shoulders. “What didn’t happen.” He clarifies. His thumb skates across the back of your hand gently.
“Do you want to talk about it?..”
“No. I just..I’m tired, querida. I’m tired of failing all the fucking time.” He sounds exhausted. You know just how much his job truly weighs on him.
“Javier, my love, you are not failing all the time. You aren’t. No one thinks that you are a failure, Jav.”
He makes a snuffling sound through his nose that comes across more like a scoff. His movements cease when he feels your freehand grasp his jaw and pull him in close. Even in the dark, your eyes are soft, gentle, and laced with concern.
“Everyone tells me that I’m a hero, cariño. I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero.”
“Javi, you don’t have to be a hero. People mean well with their words. I know they do, but you have to try and not let it get to you this much. Okay? Javier, you have one of the toughest jobs out there. No one but yourself is going to understand how you feel. Whatever happened tonight, does not make you a terrible person, or a failure. You’re doing everything you can to take down the Cali Cartel.” You reassure him.
“I feel like I have to be the hero. Javier Peña, the dashing DEA agent that took down Pablo Escobar.” He laughed. “Cariño, I was told that this time things would be different, but they were wrong. Everytime I try to ensure that innocent lives won’t be lost, someone gets caught in a crossfire. A civilian. A child. An unsuspecting bystander. It weighs on me. It fucking weighs on me more than I’m willing to admit.” He said in an exasperated tone.
You saw the tears begin to brew along his waterline before he even realized he was crying. You detected the strain in his voice, and sprung into action. Your hand dropped from his face only to then pull him into a hug with your hand gently cradling the back of his head and your fingers slipping through his hair, nails scratching his scalp gently in hopes to soothe him.
His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap so he could be closer to you. His warm palms slid under the thin fabric of your shirt along your lower back and he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
“I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I don’t want you to see me like this, cariño.”
“Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor.”
“You’re so good to me.” He kisses the exposed skin on your neck, the tips of his mustache tickles you as you hug him tightly, rubbing your hands up and down his back and shoulders in a soothing motion.
“And you’re good to me, Javier. Siempre tan bueno conmigo.”
He nuzzles you affectionately, wishing he could crawl inside of you and live there forever. “Cariño, can you do something for me?” He asks softly, dragging his lips across your skin once more.
“Anything, Jav.”
“My back and shoulders are fucking killing me. Can you—” you cut him off before he even has a chance to finish his sentence.
“Of course I can.”
He breathes a sigh of relief through his nose “Gracias, cariño”
He slowly drops his arms from around your waist so he can remove his shirt. He undos each button with meticulous precision and slowly slides the fabric down from his forearms. He lays his shirt along the side of the couch while you slide into the space behind him, with your thighs wrapping around his torso. He leans back into your touch, lashes fluttering shut when your hands work their way up from his lower back, kneading the tender strained muscles there.
You work your way upwards and pay close attention to the areas where he’s feeling the most pain. He murmurs praises in both Spanish and English under his breath when you slowly and delicately work through a particular nasty knot between his shoulder blades.
Your gentle, yet firm touch sends the DEA agent into a state of bliss, and he’s putty in your hands in no time.
Your chin comes to rest along the crook of his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss along his jawline. He hums and tilts his head to the side, finding your lips in a gentle kiss. A thank you. An I love you, and an I appreciate you can be tasted through the kiss. He rests his hands along your thighs that are wrapped around him, gently kneading the soft flesh with his strong, yet gentle hands.
“Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño”
You smile against his lips, kissing him deeper while your fingers gently brush through the wispy tendrils of hair along his forehead.
“Te quiero yo más, Jav.”
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Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍
I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications.
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ddejavvu · 10 months
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Hey mei!
Can i request a Spencer x Reader where reader crochets? And they dress super colourful and become like besties with garcia🤞 very much stevie nicks vibes maybe theyre a bit spritual aswell🧘‍♀️
maybe GN!reader but i dont mind.
Thank youu 💞💞
I wasn't sure how to incorporate all of that into one blurb so i focused more on the first aspects!
--
“Spencer.” You’re breathless as you stop by his desk, having rushed from the kitchen to get there the moment he sat down, “I made you something.”
You announce it proudly, with the puff of your chest and a bright, shiny grin. He’s used to receiving gifts from you, you jokingly call him your sugar baby, and at this point he thinks it’s true. Yarn is expensive, he’s found, and you go through an alarming rate to weave it together for him.
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, looking up curiously at you, “Can I see it now, or do I have to wait?”
“You can see it now,” You reach for your bag at his question, finger hooking around something inside before you narrow your eyes at him. That’s his cue, and he snaps his eyes shut, clenching them tightly so that you won’t be able to accuse him of peeking while holding his hands out.
He hears the rustle of your bag, of whatever’s tucked inside, then something soft, alarmingly so, is placed on his palms.
“There,” You him, “Open, Spence.”
His eyes land on a much larger mass of fabric than he’d been expecting to find, used to flower-print bookmarks and water bottle sleeves from your craft. This is bigger, with multiple colors of yarn woven in— this is a sweater vest. It’s primarily brown, a few different shades in a pattern together, but it seems that you couldn't resist adding one of your own pops of color, a splash of green thrown in to give it a mossy appearance.
"Wow," He mumbles, fingers tracing the soft material, "Angel, this is- wow, you made this?"
"I did," You grin, leaning down to kiss his cheek. It's rushed and a little sloppy, but it's Spencer's favorite kind, because it feels like you're racing to love him.
"Thank you," He turns to hug you, letting the vest hang from his grip, "Is it- do I need to wash it or something, before I wear it?"
"No," You giggle, "Just wear it whenever, Spence."
He stands clumsily from his chair, abrupt and sticking out like a sore thumb in the quiet, still bullpen, "I'm gonna wear it now."
He wrestles with the sweater vest he's got on, one of his favorites but now paling in comparison to yours. He lets it fall haphazardly onto his desk, but he'll tuck it away neatly in his bag later. The sweater vest is a perfect fit on him, and he wonders if you've been checking the sizing of his clothes while he's been sleeping.
"Angel this is perfect," He commends you, grinning adoringly at the satisfied smile on your face, "You should sell these or something."
"No, that's too big of a commitment," You wrinkle your nose at the idea, "But, if you want, I can make you a full sweater?"
His brows shoot up until they're nearly enveloped by the hair hanging over his face. He can't imagine the time it would take to hand craft an entire sweater, in fact, he's still in awe you've made him the vest, so he tugs your contemplative face into his chest with an arm around your waist.
"I love whatever you make me," He promises, kissing the crown of your head, "But if that's too much work for you, don't strain yourself. I need all of your fingers in tact," He takes your hand in his, intertwining your digits, "I couldn't hold your hand if you broke it crocheting too close to the sun."
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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pierced
for @steddiemicrofic march prompt ‘pin’
388 words | rated t | cw: not the safest piercing strategy | tags: pre-relationship, getting together
🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
“You wanna go to bed? Guest room is made up,” Steve offered.
Eddie’s head turned towards him and something shiny caught his eye.
“Woah. What’s that?” Steve asked before Eddie could answer him. “Did you get a new earring?”
“Huh?” Eddie’s eyes opened slowly. “Oh. I lost my earring in the pool earlier and wanted to make sure I had something in there.”
Steve scooted in closer until he was almost on top of Eddie. “You used a safety pin? Is that even safe?”
“It’s not not safe,” Eddie squirmed nervously. “I made sure to sterilize it first.”
“Does it hurt?” Steve felt stupid for asking. Of course it didn’t hurt. He’d already had it pierced for two weeks.
“Nah,” Eddie answered anyways. Steve kinda loved that he never made him feel dumb for asking stupid questions. Steve kinda loved him.
“Could I have one?” Steve asked, eyes darting between the safety pin in his ear and his widening eyes.
“You want a safety pin in your ear?”
“Yeah. Do you need me to get one?”
Eddie searched his face as his fingers reached up to play with the safety pin in his ear. “No, I have another one in my vest I can clean. Just to be clear, you want me to pierce your ear?”
Steve nodded.
“Are you high? Drunk? Suffering from a head injury? Emotionally compromised?”
Steve giggled. “No. I just think it looks cool.”
“It looks cool.”
“Uh-huh.”
Eddie stared back at him for a moment before finding a safety pin on his vest that he could live without. He got up and walked down the hall, probably to use the alcohol in the first aid kit.
When he came back, he immediately straddled Steve’s lap and tilted his head to the side.
Steve gulped.
“You’re really sure?”
“Positive.”
Eddie lined up the needle and told Steve to take a breath.
The safety pin was in his ear and Eddie was on his lap.
He had Eddie in his lap.
“Thanks, Eds.”
“Anytime.”
Maybe now wasn’t the time to make his move, but the way he stared up at Eddie had to have given him away.
Eddie ran his finger along the edge of his ear before leaning in to press a kiss to the top of his ear.
“Looks good, Stevie.”
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fi-sneakerboy · 6 months
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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Stripped
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punk!steve x rockstar!eddie x stripper fem!reader
summary: the two men you crushed on in high school, find their way into your club. They’re shocked to see the pastors daughter, the cute shy little church mouse is now stripping, but that’s not who you are anymore. Both men who also crushed on you in high school are eager to see, just how much you’ve changed.
⚠️warning: SMUT 18+MDNI, in this au steve was also apart of the freaks of hawkins high, sorry no king steve here, mmf threesome, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex (female receiving), oral (m and f receiving), spit roast, double penetration, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, use of sir and master, Eddie and Steve kiss, squirting, cream pies.
A/N: god, this au really has me hot and bothered! (Please remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
photo edits of Steve and Eddie: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
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It’s the busiest night of the week at foxy’s cabaret. The clubs pink and red lights accentuated your two piece red faux leather bikini, the bottoms were extra cheeky which only meant one thing; it was gonna be a good money night.
You didn’t go on for another hour, so you made your rounds scoping out possible customers that would like a private dance, you had already done three, all 60 minutes each. So you were ready to go on stage, make your money and go home.
These nights were mostly accompanied by older married men, looking to blow off steam from their wives. Most of them used you as a marriage counselor, spouting off terrible things about their spouses. It made you feel gross to have to listen to grown men, whine about how their wives are “always bitching” because they want their husbands to be home more, while they’re here getting a lap dance by you. But it was all part of the job and you’ve long learned how to de-compartmentalize it all. This was about money and nothing else.
Finally you’re called out on stage, you saunter on in your red pleasers that matched your two piece perfectly. You felt so hot tonight, and all eyes were on you, as you swung your hair and shook your ass on the pole.
Eddie had just gotten home from a big U.S. tour with corroded coffin. Him and his best friend Steve hadn’t seen each other in a year, so what better way for two friends to catch up then with some beers, hot chicks and tits. That being the exact thing Steve said to convince him to come out tonight. Eddie was kind of over the “hot chicks and tits” having seen too many to count at his shows and on the tour bus. That being said, he couldn’t turn down the chance to hang out and drink some beers with his best friend.
Eddie and Steve instantly felt out of place among all the older, rich, suit and tie assholes. They both wore band tees and vests, that show cased patches of their favorite bands. Not to mention the numerous amounts of tattoos they had; both had sleeves on each arm along with neck and face tattoos. They were definitely being thrown dirty looks by the older men, while the strippers were giving them both “fuck me eyes”. They were stopped by a few girls, to ask if they wanted private dances as they fan girled over Eddie Munson being in their club. The boys declined and Eddie kept the small talk to a minimum.
As they moved closer to the stage, your red bikini and shiny hair caught their attention. They both grabbed seats in the front row, eyes glued on your body. Steve couldn’t place it, but he had seen you somewhere. Eddie couldn’t even think as his eyes took in the sight of you, now with your legs wide open as your thighs shook and your pussy lips almost spilled out of the tiny g string.
Once you began crawling to the front of the stage, swinging you hair away from your face, Steve took you in, not your body, you. His eyes widened at the realization.
“Holy shit, dude,” he says, as he nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow.
It took a second for the trance Eddie was under, while watching you to break.
“What, man?” Eddie says, eyes not leaving you as he leans in closer to Steve.
“That’s y/n, you remember y/n? From high school?” He says in disbelief
“No fucking way!” Eddie almost shouts
That catches your attention, you look over at them. Your eyes scanning over their tattoos, clothes and then finally taking in their faces. Your heart rate began to pick up.
Holy shit, that’s Eddie and Steve.
You hadn’t seen them since high school, you had been enamored with both of them. They were considered freaks for the way they dressed and their music taste but you didn’t give a shit. They were always nice to you and um, hello? They were hot as hell.
You bought weed from Eddie once when you were feeling particularly rebellious, you ended up smoking it in the back of his van with them, they were really sweet, and maybe a little flirty, but at that time you were so shy, you had absolutely no confidence to even bring yourself to flirt back. You were not the person you are now, that’s for sure.
Once your set is over, you walk off stage and decide “fuck it, you’re not that little shy church mouse you use to be in high school.” Yes, your father was a pastor, which made what you do for work all the more shocking.
“Eddie? Steve?” You say as you walk up behind them. They’re deep in conversation, leaning in to each other while they whisper, back and forth.
They immediately turn towards you, their cheeks look flushed and they almost look nervous.
“Y/n? Wow, how’ve you been?” Steve breaks the ice first. They stand up and each lean in for an awkward hug, almost like they didn’t want to accidentally touch your exposed skin.
“I’ve been good, how’ve you guys been?” You take in their faces better, now that they’re up close. You haven’t kept up with Eddie and his band much, mostly since you’re always busy working, but your club will occasionally play “Indiana’s very own corroded coffin” as your boss likes to calls them. The last time you officially seen them was at Charlottes grad party, and that was years ago. They’ve gotten even hotter since high school with all those tattoos, piercings and the facial hair. your eyes were shamelessly roaming their bodies.
“Actually would you guys like a private show? It would give us a chance to catch up?” You look from Eddie to Steve, silently hoping they’d take you up on the offer.
“Yeah, yes. Let’s do it.” Steve says
Eddie’s mouth still hangs open, he’s clearly in shock. You figure it’s because of your prude, church girl image you had in high school, being such a big jump from the girl now standing in front of him.
“Cool, follow me.” You lead them to the private rooms, that sit behind heavy red velvet curtains. Their eyes are glued to your ass in that little g string, they’re being hypnotized by the way it jiggles every time you take a step.
“Here we are.” You open the curtain and motion them inside.
The room is small, a black leather couch sits in the middle, along with a couple chairs, underneath lays a shag rug, while just above the couch holds a red neon sign that reads: “girls, girls, girls”
“You guys can take a seat, do you want anything? Bottled water or another beer?” You ask with a polite smile.
Both boys shake their heads no, but thank you for the offer. You decide to take up the seat in between them, it wasn’t very much space, leaving their legs to rub up against yours, but you had no complaints. Their rough jeans against your soft skin, shot a thrilling tingle straight to your core.
“So?” Eddie finally speaks, “how long have you been doing this?” His eyes begin to scan your face, admiring your soft, delicate features. Features he use to spend hours day dreaming, about. His eyes began to move down to your tits, he wanted to be a gentleman, but he didn’t exactly come here for that. So he decided to indulge.
“Oh, um. It’ll be a year next week, actually.”
They both nod their head, taking in your answer. It feels a little awkward, like theirs something they want to say or maybe ask, but then Eddie begins, again—
“Your dad still the pastor?” you could tell he wasn’t trying to make fun, just a curious question. One you get a lot, but more so in a mocking tone.
“Uh, yeah yeah, he is. But we don’t talk, for obvious reasons,” you say as you gesture to the room around you.
“Yeah, I could imagine. So, how does a good girl like you get mixed in with this?” Steve asks, partaking in the curiosity.
“Well, I had to get out of my parents house, ya know? I wanted to live my own life, so I ended up moving in with my roommate brandy, she had been doing this since she was eighteen, she offered to help me get the job. It’s fun, brought me out of my shell a lot, I’m not that little shy girl you remember.” You didn’t mean for the last line to come out so suggestive, but both Eddie and Steve’s eyebrows shot up, in intrigue.
Making Eddie lean into your ear and whisper, “put on a show for us then, baby.” The tone made you shiver with equal amounts, nervousness and excitement. You’ve grown accustomed to your job, rarely ever feeling nervous before a dance, but right now in this moment in front of Eddie and Steve, you felt that timid girl you once knew creep back into your consciousness.
You stand up, doing your best to push it all down. Slowly swaying your hips as gimme all your lovin’ by ZZ Top, plays in the background. You keep eye contact with each of the boys as you do your little routine. Their eyes roaming the expanse of your body, as they begin shifting in their seats, something most customers do when you know you’re doing a good job. The thought of making their cocks hard underneath their pants, gave you the burst of confidence you needed.
You straddle Eddie’s hips first, leaving him to tense in surprise, so you grab his hands that are folded across his chest and place them on your hips, bringing your glossy lips up to his ear, “you can touch me.” You whisper.
As soon as his hands find your skin, he begins rubbing over your hips and thighs, slowly moving down to your ass, taking two handfuls and squeezing before they’re moving back up to your hips. You look over at Steve who’s intently staring at you both, so you take it upon yourself to bring him closer. “Cmon, you can touch me too.” You say with a doe eyed smile. You grab his hand and place it just under Eddie’s.
“Oh yeah? You want both of us to touch you, princess?” Eddie continues to whisper to you. Smug smirk adorning his face as he looks over at his best friend, you couldn’t make out what they were trying to silently tell each other, but it made your stomach flutter. You were excited for this to go where it seemed to be going.
Steve swiftly lifts you by both thighs, placing you on his lap with ease. His hands roaming your body, as he leans in to whisper to you—
“Please tell us, you want this as bad as we do, baby?” Fuck, their voices alone were making you soak through your little panties.
“I-I do, I want you both. I have since that time I smoked weed with you and Eddie in the back of his van.” You giggle, making your hips jerk over Steve’s hard on. The friction made a whine slip out of your mouth.
The boys laughed at the memory, until they heard you, the whine caught their attention. Steve’s face switches to something more cocky
“Mmm, did that feel good, sweet girl?” He grabs your ass and rubs your core over his cock again, this time making you both moan out in tandem.
You bite your lip as you nod, while eddie scoots in closer to you both, he begins playing with your bikini. His calloused fingers rubbing over the swells of your breasts, hardening your nipples that lie under the red fabric. His fingers find the strings in the back, that are holding the bikini together.
“Can I take this off?” He asks softly
“Yes, please.” desperation has now taken over your voice
“Mm, and she still has her manners. Such a good girl.” The praise doing nothing to help the wetness pooling between your thighs.
Once he gets all the strings untied, he slowly lets it fall onto Steve’s lap. Your tits now on full display for them.
“Holy shit.” They say in unison. Eddie’s jaw clenches, while Steve groans. They each take one of your tits in their hand, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. Every little touch shooting straight to your core.
You’ve never done this before, you knew a lot of your co workers would give blow jobs or have quickie’s with their customer for extra cash, but that was never something you were comfortable with doing.
Yet, here you are, engaging in a threesome with two men you were obsessed with in high school, one who is now a big rockstar. The thought makes your head spin.
Steve grabs you by the back of your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, as he interlocks his lips with yours, you allow his tongue entry while Eddie is moving his neck kisses down to your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and lightly sucks, gently teasing you. You whine into Steve’s mouth, breaking the kiss to look down at Eddie, his big brown eyes already looking up at you through his thick lashes. Your furrowed brows and pouty lips were almost enough to do him in, right then and there.
“So eager and impatient.” He growls as he slaps your ass, hard.
It makes you jerk in Steve’s lap, simultaneously moaning at the friction.
“Naughty girl, likes being spanked.” Steve says as he looks to Eddie, mischievous smirks taking over their once flushed faces.
“Now who would’ve guessed that?” Eddie says, making them both laugh. You feel like they’re laughing at you, but you’re too far gone to care.
Steve grabs your chin, turning your head back towards his and Eddie’s, smiles no longer on display, the air became thicker as you swallowed down the excessive saliva now coating your tongue. “You think you can take both of us at the same time, princess?” Your eyes widen at the thought of both of their cocks inside of you, it makes your stomach flip and you eagerly nod as if you’re a child being asked if you’d like some candy.
You’re by no means a virgin, you’ve had your share of one night stands and an occasional boyfriend here and there, but anal is still uncharted territory for you. You can’t lie that the prospect does excite you though, you would do just about anything they asked of you right now.
“Words, sweet girl. You need to use your words with sir and master.” Fuck
“Yes sir, yes master.” You said wantonly
“Good girl.” Eddie now had his hand wrapped around your neck, lightly squeezing
“This is what’s gonna happen.” Eddie starts “you’re going to lay down on this couch, while me and Steve get you ready for our cocks, how’s that sound, pretty baby?” His words are filthy, but his tone and smile are so soft, you could swear you were transported back to high school, they were making you fall in love all over again.
Love? No, no way. Don’t be crazy
“Yes, sir.” You nod, getting up from Steve’s lap
“Fuck, she’s so obedient.” Steve says to Eddie, like he’s enamored by you. Can’t believe you’re real.
They stand up, allowing you to lie down on the squeaky, old, black leather couch. As you lay, body flush against the cushions, you open your legs wide for the boys as they take in every curve, burning it into memory. Steve starts by taking off your stilettos, placing gentle kisses at the top of your foot, moving up to your calf and over your knee, stopping in the middle of your thigh, while Eddie palms himself through his jeans, admiring the scene in front of him.
Surprisingly, this is something Steve and Eddie talked about quit a few times in high school, they both wanted you. The time they smoked with you in the van, they were going to make a move but decided they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you were so shy and timid but Eddie couldn’t deny that little shy demeanor you had really got him going. They both thought you were beautiful, sweet and cute as fucking button.
They were disappointed after you all graduated and they still didn’t make their move, even at Charlottes grad party, but you had been on the arm of Chip Reynolds. Coincidentally, you also lost your virginity to him that night, after one too many shots.
“Can I take these off, baby?” Steve hooks his index fingers inside the red material of your g string, but looks up for your answer before he proceeds. You nod your head, while you bite down on your lip, granting him access by lifting your hips. The room around you feels hot, as you hear; looks that kill by Motley Crue booming through the club speakers.
Before Steve widens your legs, Eddie walks around you and Steve and takes a seat on the couch, by your feet. Not wanting to miss the view, they’ve been dreaming about for years.
“Open those pretty legs for us, baby.” Eddie says as his fingers walk up your leg, you gasp when you feel the spine tingling sensation shoot through you. You want to squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief of friction, but you know better. So instead you hike your legs up, like you’ve done so many nights before, for men who don’t truly see you, you’re a sex worker to them, someone there to appease their needs. You begin to wonder if that’s how Eddie and Steve see you now, but you can’t dwell on that thought.
You’re now bare and on full display for them, your juices creating a glistening coat on the outside of your well trimmed pussy. Steve and Eddie audibly groan at the sight, insecurity began creeping up as they gawked, but you didn’t know they were equally losing their restraint.
Steve’s the first to trail his hands towards your sex, slow and agonizing. The tips of his fingers barely grazing your skin, just enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he finally gets to where you’re dying to be touched, he starts by rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, he finds your clit and begins slowly drawing small circles. They take in every expression and whine you give them, eating it up like the only sustenance left on earth.
“That feels so good, Steve.” Your mouth falls open as the pressure of his fingers on your clit, pick up. Finally giving you the right amount of friction you’ve been begging for.
Eddie starts taking his cock out of the confines of his black jeans, the tightness being too much for him to handle. As you hear the zipper you lift your head up, not wanting to miss anything. Once you’re met with Eddie’s cock, your eyes widen and your jaw drops, it’s fucking beautiful —
“Well thank you, pretty girl.” Eddie snorts
Fuck, you’re so far gone, you thought you said that to yourself.
But it is, so beautiful. About seven and a half inches, thick and veiny, the spongy heads an angry throbbing red, precum beading at the tip.
“See, told you, you had a nice cock, Munson.” Steve says, before sending you a wink. That mischievous smile making its comeback. The insinuation making your pussy pulse, as more wetness continues to glaze your outer lips.
Eddies cheeks, blooming a pretty rosy pink at Steve’s words. You could tell he was uncomfortable diving in deeper to the depths of what was said, and you didn’t want to push it, no matter how curious they left you.
“Can I taste your pussy, baby?” Eddie now asks, leaning in closer to your thighs, while he continues stroking his heavy cock.
“Yes, master.” You say, trying not to sound as eager as you felt.
Steve stands up and begins fiddling with the button of his red and black plaid pants, riddled with different patches, some you’re able to make out: circle jerks, misfits, buzzcocks and minor threat to name a few. They look interesting, maybe you’ll remember to check their tapes out whenever you go to your local record store.
Your thoughts quickly being broken by Eddie’s tongue swiping over your clit, making you moan out a “oh my god!” In surprise
Steve’s cock springs out, and bobs in the air. A little bigger than Eddie’s but not by much, the tip matching his best friends; angry and red. They’re both fucking beautiful, and you want them inside you so bad.
Steve starts fisting his cock as he walks up towards your face, “Aw, no complement for my cock, baby?” Steve mockingly coos
“You’re both beautiful, you and your cocks. Want them so bad.” You moan, as your hips buck up towards Eddie’s tongue, which is now fucking your hole, before moving back up to circle your clit.
“Mmm, that’s better, sweet girl. Now open wide for me, kay?” Steve says as he begins tapping his cock against your lips. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, Steve audibly growls at your obedience before he’s plunging it into your mouth, he grabs a fistful if your hair working you up and down on him, just the way he likes it. Meanwhile Eddie, takes it upon himself to insert two fingers into your wet weeping hole, making you moan around Steve, the vibrations making his cock twitch, deep in your throat.
Eddie’s tongue continues lapping up your juices as Steve is fucking your throat, the whole scene making euphoria pass over you, as if you were high off the best drug. Their cocks were your drug, and they were giving you the perfect high. Eddie’s fingers hit that spot inside of you, that always has you gushing. You scream out, as he’s relentlessly hitting it. Both boys, slowly becoming more and more aggressive. But you did not mind, in the slightest.
Your muscles start tensing and your legs start shaking, as your pussy spasms around two of Eddie’s heavily ringed fingers.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. Mmm, Cum for us, pretty girl.”
Eddie’s ministrations speed up, making your toes curl.
You release Steve’s cock with a pop, as you begin moaning and screaming.
“I’m cu-cumming, fuck don’t stop, master please!” Eddie’s fingers speed up, as wet squelching fills the room. You cum with a splash of wetness to Eddie’s chin and neck, making him growl.
“Fuck, you’re a squirter? Goddammit, you’re fucking perfect.” He’s so ready to be inside you, that he’s willing to spill all his dirty secrets and the feelings he’s harbored for you throughout the years.
Steve is on the other side losing his shit over the way you’re sucking his dick and the fact that you just squirted all over his best friends face. They needed to fuck you, want was out the window.
Eddie gets up from his laying position between your thighs, he brings the back of his hand to wipe the juices that he wasn’t able to lick away, while Steve pulls you off of his cock and back up onto your feet.
Steve sits down on the couch first, before his fingers are pressing into your hips and he’s guiding you to straddle his naked lap, having completely removed his clothes before sitting down. Once fully seated he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes before he looks at you with eyes that could make you puddle right there on the floor.
“You ready, sweet thing?” He asks while he beams up at you, awaiting your answer but also admiring your beauty while trying not to blow his load at the fact that the girl he spent so much time admiring from a far when he was a teenager, is now seated on his lap, naked.
“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Your words coming out so sugary sweet, making his head drop to the back of the couch, as he does his best to pull it together. He’s never had this problem before, you were completely ruining him, making him feel ways he hasn’t for any other girl.
He lifts his head back up, looking you in the eyes as he takes your chin between his fingers, his other hand still stroking himself. “You’re such a good fucking girl, you know that?” He says with a smirk
Eddie’s off to the side, watching the whole display closely. “She is such a good girl? Isn’t she Harrington? I think it’s time we reward her with both of our cocks. How does that sound, princess?” You moan, while your hips grind down on to Steve’s precum coated cock.
“Yes, please. I need sir and masters cock inside me.” If anyone from your congregation could see you now, they’d think you’d been possessed by some sort of sex demon, the way you were moaning, groaning and writhing about on top of Steve’s lap, you even felt like it in that moment.
Steve finally breeches your soaked hole, making him shudder beneath you. As you begin sinking down on to his cock, inch by delicious inch, Eddie comes and sits on the back of the couch where Steve’s head is resting, he’s stroking himself with the most devious smirk, pupils blown black from lust. If you were being possessed it would be Eddie’s doing.
“Get me nice and wet, baby. Need to be able to slip into your asshole with ease, okay? The sloppier the better.” He winks, while you quickly obey. Opening your mouth and allowing yourself to sink down on Eddie and Steve, simultaneously.
Steve grabs the globes of your ass and starts his own pace while helping you bounce on his aching cock. You’re gagging on Eddie, tears rolling down your cheeks as spit falls from your mouth and down onto the leather of the couch cushions. Both boys eyes are rolling back into their heads, they’re in fucking heaven. In that moment they both have the same thought— they never want to let you go.
Eddie pulls you off as he wipes up the remaining spit hanging from your chin, bringing it down to stroke his already glistening cock, and rubbing the wetness over his balls before he’s behind you, opening up your ass cheeks and using his spit to rub his middle finger over your puckered hole. “I’m gonna put my fingers in first and loosen you up, a’right?” You look back at him, eyes all doe like, lips swollen and wet from his cock. Fuck, you were a captivating portrait of beauty, if he’s ever seen one.
“Yes, master. Please,” broke him out of his thoughts as he breeched your virgin hole with the tip of his finger, making you groan in pain and pleasure. Finally, his finger is fully seated in you to the second knuckle, while Steve begins rubbing your clit as he still fucks into you, “you’re doing so good pretty baby, so good for us.” Steve whispers into your ear, as Eddie’s finger starts moving faster in and out, you can’t contain the screams that are falling from your mouth. Steve continues— “I know baby, I know. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise you, it’ll start to feel so fucking good, okay? You’re gonna love it by the time he’s done.” His words making you bounce back on his cock and Eddie’s finger. “That’s it, princess. Fuck my finger.” Eddie growls.
“I’m gonna put a second one in, okay?” Eddie says as he slips the second one in with the first, this time it goes in smoother, sinking to his tattooed knuckles. “Oh, fuck-” Steve cuts of your moans by bringing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss, of tongues and spit, moaning into each others mouths as you get both your holes filled.
Once Eddie thinks your ready, he gets up from his kneeling position, holding out his hand under your chin as he demands you to spit, then doing the same to Steve. He rubs the mixed spit glob onto his cock for extra lube, he doesn’t want this to hurt you, he wants to make it as pleasurable as possible. Once it’s to his liking he lines his red tip up with your pink throbbing hole, he pushes in and fuck, it’s an indescribable feeling, but it’s so good.
“Oh, fuuuck!” Eddie groans, pushing even deeper inside you. “You’re so tight baby, fuck I’m not gonna last long, I’m just letting you both know that now.” He chuckles making you and Steve laugh, too. “I’m so close, been edging myself this whole time.” Steve says
Finally, Eddie is bottomed out inside of you, grabbing your hips but not moving until you give him the okay. “Just let me know when you’re ready, sweet girl.” — “I’m ready, please eddie, I’m ready.” He grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back until you’re looking at him upside down. “It’s master, remember? I’ll let that one slide since you have two cocks inside you and you’re too fucked dumb, to think. But, next time I will punish you, do you understand?” He says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, master. I’m sorry.” You want to cry, not for being reprimanded but from the sheer pleasure of it all. “That’s my good girl,” he says leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
They both start pounding into you, it’s almost too much but you wouldn’t dare ask them to stop, not when the knot in your stomach is tightening and you can feel yourself reaching that ultimate high.
“Fuck, Steve I can feel your cock hitting mine.” Eddie growls, making Steve clench is jaw and throw his head back. “Mm, you like being able to feel my cock inside her, big boy?” Steve nods his head, while moaning out expletive after expletive.
Them talking dirty to each other while inside you, was about to throw you over the edge, along with their hands that wouldn’t stop rubbing and grabbing at your skin, taking handfuls of whatever they could.
You lean forward and put your head against Steve’s shoulder, while they continue to fuck you, the slight shift giving them better access to your holes, but also bringing Eddie and Steve’s faces closer together. Eddie smiles and winks at Steve as their cocks moved in and out in unison, meanwhile Steve grabs Eddie’s hair and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss. The smacking of their lips brings your attention back to them. It was so insanely hot, making you clench tightly around both boys, Steve pulls away first, “fuck, I think she likes that. You like watching me and Eddie kiss, angel?” Steve says in a mocking tone, all you can do is nod your head, as your high hits you like a ton of bricks.
“Oh my fuck, im cumming, holy shit.” You wail as you squirt all over Steve’s cock and lower stomach. Steve couldn’t hold it any longer, your moans and the splash he felt against his lower half, made him lose it. “I’m cumming, fuck where do I-” he says before you cut him off. “Inside, both of you, I want it inside please!” You whimper
Eddie takes your chin in his hand, turning your face towards his and kissing you deep and passionately as he follows right behind Steve, both boys empty themselves inside your tight, clenching holes. You continue milking them dry until Eddie pulls out slowly, followed shortly by Steve.
Eddie lifts you up and softly put you down so that you’re seated on the couch as he falls down on the cushion beside you.
“Wow.” You three said in unison, making you all laugh out hysterically.
Once the laughing stops, you’re all met with comfortable silence as the background noise from the club penetrates your ears, and you’re brought back to your surroundings.
Then the silence is broken as Steve asks, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”
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Thank you for reading!
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Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3
rambles:
BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!
based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk
since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!
you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke
the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3
he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)
im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots
ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well
#i wanted him to look um.... Put Together?#barn strikes me as a character that likes to look a lil sophisticated in a way!#and i wanted that to come across in this fit... dont know if i succeeded#i still wanted to have Bard-ish / Barnaby Vibes#i can easily imagine him reclined by a tree absentmindedly playin his accordion... smokin... in this outfit hat tipped down over his eyes#barnaby my beloved <3#and bardaby my beloved <3#also ill admit!!!#that lute is traced from a real image lmfao there was no way in hell i was scribbling that thing from scratch#scribble salad#wh fantasy au#i lowkey feel bad for barnaby when he finds out about the whole warlock thing#bc hes been traveling with wally for Years#barnaby likes to think that he knows everything about his little buddy#and then wally has to be like 😬#yeah im actually not technically a real person#also there's this 'demon' i have a pact with & also a weird kinda non-platonic Cant Be Accurately Labeled intimate relationship with#oh and i sometimes sacrifice innocent people to it in a pinch. the rest of the time we eat enemies' souls#and barnaby just has to! deal with that! like oh great! his bestie has been lying to his face since they met!#ands its been Seamless Lying!#suffice to say barnaby has a crisis#and now since wally can be more open about home#there's a sort of... pointless Rivalry for wally's attention/affection#even though barnaby definitely misjudges the situation and how home feels about wally...#oh switching gears back to the instrument thing!#in my mind barnaby also knows how to play the harp really well#and howdy's tavern has a corner for live music - which includes a permanently placed harp <3#so i think on quiet days barnaby will go play the harp while howdy cleans glasses & the others do their own quiet things#maybe its raining outside! or Snowing! but the tavern is cozy and warm & there is beautiful music <3
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f10werfae · 1 year
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Grumpy Lumberjack and his Baby Bun
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pairing: Lumberjack!Henry × Wife!Pregnant!Reader
summary: Compilation of all the dirty things Henry as done to his baby bun, especially when she's pregnant (lactation, spit, dumbification, toys)
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Lumberjack!Henry gives Shy!Reader a collar:
“Baby bun av’ got ya a little somethin’” Henry called out into the warm cabin, his nose already sniffing out for her strawberry scented shampoo, his smirk growing once he watched her waddle into the room. His dried cum still plastered on her thighs, “Turn around for me sugar, need to see if ya followed me rules” He whistled seeing the pink ruby butt plug still deep inside her asshole, something he had set in an hour or two ago.
Truthfully he didn’t know, the entire sexathon leaving them both dazed and blissed out. “W-what is it?” She giggled climbing onto his lap once he sat down, her lower half completely bare, wearing only a tank top that Henry wore to work out. “S’ a pretty necklace jus’ for my baby” He smiled booping her nose, babying her just as she liked, her giggles once again filling his ears as she leant forward eagerly.
Pulling a jewelled choker from a fancy looking bag he presented the beautiful diamond thing, with the centre containing a rather large charm, the letter ‘H’ “W-woah so pretty, i-is it all mine?” She gawked seeing the piece of jewellery being clipped around the back of her neck, her hips wiggling happily as Henry leant forward to kiss her pouty lips eagerly. His fingers pinching her jaw to open her mouth, letting him spit into it filthily, using his two fingers to lather his saliva all over her tongue before he told her to swallow.
“Good baby” He cooed as she gulped down awaiting praise from him, having only been engaged a few days, they had definitely ramped their relationship up to the next level. “Take my shirt off sugar cube, wanna see my babygirl’s pretty tits with her diamond neck” Tugging on the hem of the vest she wore, it only took a mere few seconds before it was thrown somewhere out there. His hands immediately coming up to grope and knead at the two globes of flesh, his mouth spitting into the valley between them, rubbing the tits together to get them all wet and shiny with his mouth.
“I feel beautiful!” She squealed feeling him tweak and pinch at her perked up nipples, if there was anything Henry knew how to do, it was to make his sugar pie feel loved, wanted and beautiful. He was doing a darn good job at doing it too. “Cause you are beautiful, too beautiful it kills me” He growled his eyes trained on her whole upper body as if it was a magnet; God he couldn’t wait to plant the idea of babies into her clouded little mind. The picture of her all swollen and big with his baby made him feral just by the thought, and imagine her toddling around town pregnant with the jackpot of a collar around her neck. There’d be no doubt that she belonged to the lonely (no longer lonely) grumpy lumberjack that occupied the luxurious cabin in the mountains, Henry Cavill.
Shaking his head out of his own thoughts Henry watched as she poked and traced over each diamond delicately, her pretty eyes wide and sparkly just how he liked them. As if there was some spectacle to look at. Sneaking his phone out of his pocket he cursed himself when he snapped a photo of his fiancé, her tits exposed to the camera along with her face, her smile big; that was until the camera shutter went off and a grump formed on her face.
“Y-you can’t just take photos o-of me like that” She snarked slapping his shoulder gently as he pouted along with her and kissed her lips tenderly muttering a small sorry which he didn’t really mean. That photo was fucking golden. “Ya gotta l-let me get ready first H-hen”
She immediately smiled towards the camera, showing off the diamonds as she held onto the choker, her pearly whites showing as she squinted her eyes to let her smile grow larger. A smile which pulled at Henry’s heartstrings at how happy she looked, “So pretty baby, my pretty girl” He crooned looking back on the two pics so far, his eyes widening when she posed again, this time pushing her tits together to hug the ‘H’ pendant hanging off the choker. His baby bun was filthy and he fuckin’ knew it, he had corrupted her well and truly.
Picture after picture was taken until she finally took the phone out of his hand, angling it at a higher angle to get both their smiling faces in the shot, his hands grabbing onto each breast greedily. One would even say there was a photo of her tit greedily sucked into his mouth, her face still having that same wide smile, as if her husband wasn’t trying to milk her breasts.
Shy!Reader afraid of giving birth:
Henry’s heart started hammering when his hand went to the other side of the bed, his wife’s side was empty, and holy fuck she was pregnant too. Throwing the covers off, “Y/n?! Where are ya baby bun?!” He shouted using her actual name, something he didn’t do unless he was REALLY mad or worried about something.
“M-m’ here daddy” He heard her voice whimper out, his cock stirring from the choice of nickname. Ever since he had brought the name up during sex, she had started using it whenever she needed extra comfort from her beast of a man, after-all he was literally about to be the father of her babies.
Turning the corner to the kitchen he found her munching away on her chocolate chips, her newfound obsession during pregnancy. “I-I need a hug” She whispered looking at him from the bar stool, her eyes glossy with her arms out waiting for him, a tiny humph leaving her as Henry picked her up and sat her onto his lap. “I’ll give you all the hugs in the world sugar, anytime you need one ya let me know, but no more runnin’ off outta bed alright?” He whispered against the shell of her ear, his hand coming down to cup the front of her protruding belly, it was now evident that she was carrying twins, his miracles. “sorry, I-I wanted to t-think but then I got h-hungry” She sniffled pointing at the near empty packet of biscuits, her body curling itself as best as possible into Henry’s warm one. “What’s goin on in that pretty head a’ yours, what’s botherin’ my sugar, my baby momma”
“I-I. I’m scared. I-I know it’s going to hurt but i’m scared, n-n anxious, a c-section is s-scary, they gotta cut open my stomach and they’ll see my guts and-“
“Hey hey hey, stop rushin’ the thoughts baby, it’s totally normal to feel scared; heck i’m so proud of you baby, my strong baby bun” He whispered peppering kisses to her neck until he felt her start to laugh and wiggle on his lap. “I’ll be right beside you Y/n, every step of the bloody thing, I’ll be there when they place the tiny tots on your chest.”
“Holding my hand?”
“Holding your hand”
Vibrator in the panties:
Henry practically cackled watching his wife try to go about her daily habits, a wobble in her step as she tried to soothe the hard vibrations erupting in the panties. She knew something was up when Henry said she could wear panties at home today, she should have know he would do something like this. A built in vibrator placed right against her swollen clit, and she knew she couldn’t touch herself either, not with Henry’s rules, so she really was left on her own here.
Giving up on even trying to play with Marly her kitten, she huffed grabbing onto her weighted blanket Henry got her, if she had to suffer then he would too.
Straddling Henry’s lap she let the vibrator hit right against his cock whilst also hitting her pussy, Henry’s cock jerking with each rhythm of vibrations, his hands gripping onto her silk covered ass cheeks as he groaned and growled from the sensation. Guess he should have seen this coming too. “S-see Henry, I-I can be bold too” She whimpered slowly rolling her hips against his, her hands clenched around his shoulders as he bit his lip at the sight of her all blissed out. She had cum three times already in the space of an hour, her pussy raw and swollen and sticky with her own juices; that was until Henry decided to give her a squeaky clean shower with the shower head right on her pussy, before sticking a new pair of the same panties on her freshly washed pussy.
“Oh yeah bold” He grumbled slightly hating himself for even making the purchase now, his cock aching feeling the lips of her wet pussy clinging to his cock through the fabric, yet he couldn’t feel her. And he promised her he could keep the panties on all day, fucks sake.
When Shy!reader’s milk comes in:
“H-Hen? Come in here p-please?!” Y/n shouted from the bedroom where she had basically been nesting for the past few weeks now that she was getting closer to her due date, Henry was now on the go to getting prepared for the new arrivals, painting the nursery and getting the furniture (asking Y/n for colour schemes of course)
“Yes baby bun” Henry smirked standing by the doorway seeing her perched naked on her pregnancy pillow, it was getting to warm for her to be wearing clothes, hence Henry was now getting a free show 24/7 and he didn’t mind. With his wife’s sex drive being through the roof, it was practically easy access for him to slip in behind her in bed and fuck her senseless, or bend her over the kitchen counter as he pleases. Although that position was now getting harder with how swollen her ankles were getting.
“M-m leakin’” She pouted sitting up against the headboard, squeezing her swollen tits to show Henry that tiny beads of white milk where erupting from her rosebud.
Henry was waiting for this since the day he fucking met her, breeding her so hard that he’d be able to milk her tits into his waiting mouth before his babies arrived. “Oh baby they’re ready, so gorgeous n’ full” He gaped sitting beside her on the bed, her body facing his as he let his hands cup her massive jugs, expanded full with milk that she had produced. He took notice of how she winced clearly feeling tense, he let his hands softly bounce them in the palm of his hand, his fingers tugging lightly on her larger nipples surrounded by a now darker areola.
“Want daddy to make ya feel better sugar pie? I know how to make the soreness go away” He cooed rubbing his thumb over the too of her breasts soothingly, her lips pouted as she nodded desperately, eager to get rid of the extra weight on her chest that had a arrived a tad bit early. “Alright sit back against the headboard for me honey, daddy’s jus’ gonna suck the sweet milk right outta your tits”
“B-but isn’t that just for babies?” She asked confused, cocking her head to the side like an innocent puppy. “Don’t Ya know the daddy’s gotta test the milk for the babies?” He raised a brow, questioning her as if what he said was just common knowledge, “O-oh okay” She smiled leaning back against her pregnancy pillow, watching on as her husband’s full lips wrapped around one nipple, small whimpers and groans leaving her lips as she suckled softly consistently; small groans and hums leaving his lips every time he detached from her nipples to give it a passionate tongue kiss as if it was her mouth before resuming his suckling.
He continued to do this for another 15 minutes before switching to the other breast, before this time collecting the milk in his mouth and spitting it right into his wife’s waiting mouth, his tongue scavenging through her mouth roughly as they tasted her sweet breastmilk. “T-tastes good” She admitted shyly, her body feeling flush, “Does taste good doesn’t it baby? S’ useful too”
He groaned sitting up to release his cock out of his briefs, squirting some of her milk right onto his palm before he used it to lube up his cock; just how dirty could he get? “Squirt some more milk on me momma, need it so bad” He groaned smirking as she squeezed at her breasts hard enough that the pressure caused it to squirt right at him, “o-oh crap I don’t knot howta’ aim” She giggled watching the milk drip down his chest and mixing in with the trail of curls that nestled at the base of his cock.
“S’okay baby bun we got time to practice, now I think we should give your puffy pussy a sweet taste too don’t ya think?” Before she could even protest Henry was already attached back onto her nipples, massaging them in circular motions to help get the milk flowing right onto his thick wet tongue. His body burning as he spat right onto her slit, massaging it through her folds, letting his fingers find her wet snug hole. “a-ah daddy” She moaned eagerly wiggling her hips, and Henry gave her exactly what she wanted, pushing in two of his rough fingers in; practically filling her up already. Her breasts squirting a tiny bit of milk each time he thrusted inside her, almost like it was part of her response to his depravity. “Look at those tits go baby, fuckin’ milkin all over the place like a cow” He chuckled watching her whine and whimper at the pressure of her breasts slowly emptying, her clit and hole being played simultaneously and Henry’s stare was just out of this world.
Mixed with love, filth, obsession and lust for the pregnant woman in front of him, his lips coming back onto her nipples once again; Y/n knew instantly that this would become a habit and she knew she loved it
—-///
PSA: Hope this fulfilled some queries about their relationship! Next fic of lumberjack!Henry will be them settling in with their tiny tots, something like that :)
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
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Hope you all enjoy!!
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traumxrei-archive · 7 days
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【 iii. picture perfect shopping 】
summary: for a debutante, one must be the most eye catching at the ball. yuu decides to take floyd shopping with them. what they didn’t realize was how picky the prankster would be when it came to their outfit…
word count: 1.6k
author’s note: floyd leech my beloved <33 i love this guy sm, and i feel like he’s one of the twsties who’d have rlly good fashion ^^
[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]
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"Master~" Floyd groaned, fiddling with his tie. "Do I have to wear somethin' so uncomfortable?"
Today Yuu was supposed to go clothes shopping. Floyd, who had previously looked bored out of his mind, suddenly shot up and volunteered himself. And since none of the others protested, the rest was history.
"Why not?" The corners of Yuu's lips twitched as they buttoned Floyd's vest.
Yuu supposed that they had a bit of a mischievous streak when it came to their own maids. Especially with Floyd Leech. It wasn't often that they had something to tease the maid with.
Floyd grabbed their hand, stopping them in their tracks, "Aren't I supposed to dress you?" 
"I suppose," Yuu glanced up, his eyes boring into theirs. "But wouldn't you rather do something more interesting instead?"
Floyd seemed to switch tactics, "Can't I wear my normal uniform? These pants are too stuffy."
Yuu thought about it. About the way Floyd preferred loose skirts that fell just above his knees. Or the way his apron was always stained with something or another from running around all day. Wearing fitted pants probably felt strange in retrospect.
But they had to appreciate how Floyd looked from an aesthetic point of view. The pants all but accentuated his height, coupled with a fitted coat and vest. Floyd looked the spitting image of a young master rather than a maid. (They patted themself on the back for choosing such a perfect outfit.)
"Hmm, but you look handsome like this too," They smiled because Floyd was always weak when it came to compliments.
They knew they won the argument as soon as Floyd released a long sigh "If Master says so~"
"Besides, we aren't trying to attract attention. If it weren't for the ball..."
Floyd grinned then, "Don'tcha worry, all I gotta do is get you lookin' the best at the ball, right Master?"
Turned out that Floyd was quite picky when it came to clothing. Maybe that was why Jade seemed quite apologetic as he was sending them off. What they thought would be a simple shopping trip turned out to be a quest for "only the best that fit Master," as Floyd put it.
"This material...isn't it on the cheaper side?"
Or, "Nah, this color doesn't match your eyes."
Or, their personal favorite, "Master, you're rich, so shouldn't you get a bigger rock?"
Yuu would’ve laughed at all of Floyd’s comments if it wasn’t considered rude to the store owners. The good thing was that Floyd had basically done the hard part for them. He had chosen a suitable outfit on their behalf, swathing them in Night Raven grey, adorned with gold trimmings. And then there were the boots made out of leather from a foreign land. Yuu probably would've chosen without worrying too much about quality if it weren't for Floyd, but he seemed determined to watch over their purchases like a hawk. 
Their feet were getting a bit tired, but Yuu couldn't bring themself to say no when Floyd entered another store.
"This time we'll find a good brooch," Floyd said as he opened the door, letting them into the store. "Something bi~g and shiny so that those garbage minnows won't look down on you."
"I'm sure I don't need it," They reassured.
Yuu knew why Floyd was worried. There were plenty of unsavory rumors going around about them, after all. It had been happening for a long time, ever since they attended NRC. 'The young heir is socially inept', or 'A mere teen cannot inherit the Night Raven Duchy, much less an orphan!', or even their least favorite rumor, 'The loyalty of their staff is due to their status.' It didn't matter much to them anyway. By the end of their Debutante, they would make sure that no one would be able to run their mouths about the Duchy or their people.
"Welcome, customers!" The salesman greeted cheerily. "Please have a seat." They both took a seat, and soon the scent of tea leaves seemed to fill the room as they waited. Floyd was already eyeing the display cases, eyes calculating. 
The store owner poured them each a cup of tea. His eyes glanced between the two of them before finally landing on Floyd, “What would you like to see, good sir?”
Ah. It seemed that this store owner had mistaken them to be a servant, and Floyd their master. It made sense, given the more simplistic clothing they decided to use if only to disguise their shopping trip. Floyd expression had dropped. They could feel the anger starting to radiate from the maid.
“Hey,” There was a cold expression on Floyd’s face. “Don’t look down on my Master like that.” Oh Sevens.
They tugged at his sleeve, before whispering, “Floyd, don’t—" 
“Master?” The owner glanced at them for a moment, not even noticing that he interrupted them. “Are you sure?”
And that seemed to be the final straw for Floyd.
He slammed his hand on the table with a loud bang and Yuu's heart felt like it stopped in their chest. Horror dawned on them as they watched the table shake, the tea set wobbling before shattering with a spectacular sound. CRASH! Hot tea spilled all over the surface of the table, splashing Floyd's arm.
“Floyd!" They hurriedly grabbed his arm, jerking it from the steaming puddle of tea.
Floyd continued to glare at the man, “It seems there’s a minnow who doesn’t know his place.”
They injected as much authority as they could into their voice, “Floyd Leech, I want you to calm down. This behavior is far from appropriate.” They watched as Floyd’s shoulders tensed, conflict passing his expression. The store owner didn’t dare to move either, face frozen in shock.
An eternity seemed to pass before Floyd released a harsh breath, “As your benevolence wishes, Master.” A frustrated expression crossed Floyd’s face before he was turning toward them, sinking to the ground. His forehead pressed against their knee, and Yuu fought not to comfort Floyd for a second.
Instead, they looked up. Yuu stared at the spilled tea with disdain, “Well? Clean up the mess. I'll compensate for the broken tea set.” 
“Y-Yes, of course,” The man seemed to sweat even more as he bowed. “And...may I know your name?” The nerve of him to ask after all that.
“Your ignorance astounds me. Most know me as the heir to the Night Raven Duchy.” And the owner turned white as a sheet. Good. That should teach him not to forget their face ever again. As the man stumbled out, they turned their attention to Floyd.
Yuu finally let their hand card into Floyd’s hair, “Floyd. You’re not upset with me, are you?”
“‘M not,” His voice was muffled, and they could feel him press his cheek against their knee. “Are you mad at me?”
They let out a light laugh, brushing the hair out of Floyd’s eyes. He was staring right at them now. “I’m not. I understand why you were offended. Now he’ll never forget my face for as long as he lives.” Floyd had a bleeding heart when it came to those that challenged their status, more than any of their other maids. And that big of a blunder coupled with the fact that the debutante was soon… It was no wonder Floyd had snapped.
"But Master..." Floyd was pouting now. "You don't hafta compensate him."
"I have to compensate him for the damageds. But the Night Raven Duchy will never give him another penny ever again," Yuu held up their palm. "Now show me your hand.”
Floyd obediently lifted his arm, which was all but soaked in tea, “It doesn’t hurt.” The skin was reddened slightly, and they frowned, wishing that they had intervened quicker.
“Still, we should have the doctor take a look later. And you should get changed,” Yuu traced over the wetness of his sleeve. “I…have your uniform. It's in our carriage, down the block.”
Floyd’s head shot up, eyes glittering, “Really?”
They nodded, sheepishly, “If you really were uncomfortable in those clothes, I wasn’t going to force you to keep wearing it for the whole— Woah—“ Floyd stood up, leaving the store before they could finish their sentence.
The owner finally returned. They wondered if he timed it so that Floyd would leave before he entered. They glanced at him, “Do you happen to have a fitting room here?”
“E-Excuse me? This is a jewelry store, but we—“ The door opened almost violently as Floyd walked back in, expression dangerously dark once more. They tapped a finger against their arm. The owner coughed, “W-We have an empty storage room at the back, p-please go ahead, your grace.”
“Thank you,” Yuu brushed off their clothes before offering a hand to Floyd. “Shall we?” Floyd seemed happy to lead them to the back, and more than happy to change back into his normal attire.
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Yuu chuckled at the sight of the lopsided headband and the carelessly tied apron. Riddle and Jamil would have a heart attack if they saw what Floyd looked like as he exited the store.
Floyd stretching ahead of them, “Kinda wish I could've beaten him up a little~”
"Floyd Leech, that is unacceptable," They said with mock seriousness, as Floyd laughed cheerily.
And watching Floyd skipping down the streets, pointing to another store up ahead, well... They couldn't say no.
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colossalcriminal · 1 year
Text
Housekeeping
Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Harry gets a part-time gig cleaning the house down the street to escape the Dursleys for a few hours a week during the summer, he soon recognises the residents’ daughter as his own schoolmate.
Content Warnings: None, really? Not proofread. There’s no specific time this takes place, you could say it’s the summer after fifth year. Reader is also a Ravenclaw but it doesn’t have too much of an impact. Mentions of a functional family.
“There you go, Harry. Don’t worry about the downstairs, today. Just some light dusting upstairs and wiping the windows.”
Harry nodded, smiling down at the many shiny coins that lay in his hand.
He got to work, somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t much to do today. He wondered if there really was more, but the L/Ns were too nice to ask. Dusting along several shelves that lined the wall of the upstairs hallway, he made his way to the first room. 
It’d been his first time in this one. The door, for the first time ever, was slightly ajar, a stark difference from its usual shut position. It wasn’t too clean, the trunk open and closet half empty, not yet finished with unpacking for the summer holiday. Books and trinkets were scattered about the table, bed haphazardly made. The walls were painted a pretty shade of cream, almost completely covered with posters of musicians such as Celestina Warbeck and Lorcan d’Eath, he was surprised to see them accompanied by several Ravenclaw banners and a blue and bronze tie hanging from the bedpost.
He had an inkling that the L/N family knew of magic and wizards, but for their child to attend Hogwarts? Harry did as he was paid to do, wiping the windows. Dusting the shelves, he was oddly determined to find out who lived in this bedroom.
A Ravenclaw.
Judging by the clothing style and size, which he knew very little about, she couldn’t be much younger than him. 
The boy refused to snoop through the stack of letters on her bedside table, only one name catching his eye. Dean Thomas.
Were they friends? He hadn’t noticed Dean with a girl, but lately, he hadn’t noticed much at all. Were they dating? “Who are you?” Harry murmured, sighing as he went to look at the framed moving photographs.
With narrowed eyes, the name he’d been searching for had uncovered itself in his brain. “Y/N L/N.”
△⃒⃘
It was warmer than it was a few days ago when he was wiping windows and dusting shelves, Harry walked down the street, knocking on the door of number 8 Privet Drive.
Would she be home?
The door swung open several minutes later, but it wasn’t to address him. Perhaps his knock was too quiet, too nervous, to be heard. “I’ll be back late, tonight!”
“No, Y/N! Not a single minute after twelve!”
“Let's make it twelve-thirty!” She shut the door before her parents could retaliate, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “Oh, I think you’re cleaning the kitchen today.” Y/N told him before scurrying off, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder.
His eyes trailed after her as she walked away. Summer was most definitely here, one could tell from her skirt and vest, along with the sunglasses that covered what he remembered to be very pretty eyes.
Shaking his head, Harry scolded himself for looking too long, getting one last glimpse of her wonderfully styled hair before entering the house.
He’d seen her, she’d spoken a total of eight words to him.
△⃒⃘
Thursday came, the second and last day of the week he had to clean, Harry would have to wait four more days to return on Monday to find any sort of reprieve from the Dursleys.
He insisted on wiping the countertops slower, ensuring maximum shine, scrubbing with utmost precision while Mr. L/N sipped on tea in the living room and Mrs. L/N judged the flower arrangement on the dining table.
The front door shut, and no one flinched. “I’m home!”
She placed her bag onto the table her mother was sitting at. “Hair up please, darling, Harry’s just cleaned the floor.”
Y/N huffed slightly before bunching her hair up into a clip, plopping down onto the sofa next to her father. “Hi, dad.”
Her father’s eyes remained on the newspaper. “Hello, you.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Hi, hungry. I’m dad.” She pouted at the awful joke. “You should’ve eaten while you were at the burrow.”
“I wasn’t hungry at the time.”
Harry kept to himself, brows furrowed. The burrow? He’d never seen her there, it must’ve been a remarkable coincidence that their lives overlapped so heavily, yet they have yet to speak more than ten words to each other. 
“Go make a sandwich then.”
“I’m lazy.”
She retreated to her bedroom after a light chat with her mum, and soon he was due back at number 4.
△⃒⃘
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Harry?”
“What?” Y/N almost dropped the plate she held while setting the table.
“What?” Harry’s face was one of surprise. The two spoke simultaneously. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, Mrs. L/N.”
The older woman waved him off, supplying her daughter with a fourth plate. “Nonsense, we would love to have you.”
And so the quartet sat for dinner, the teenage girl beside her father, the boy beside her mother. “This is really nice, Mrs. L/N.”
“Thank you, dear.” A short pause. “Are you and Y/N good friends in school?”
The pair weren’t sure of what to say. “We don’t talk much, mum. Different houses and that.”
“Speaking of houses, that final game for the Quidditch cup!” Mr. L/N began, eliciting a sigh from Y/N. “Absolutely ridiculous! I always tell Y/N, just because you score the first few points, doesn’t mean you calm your attack, don’t you think so, Harry?”
“I can’t say much, sir, but I know that Y/N is a great player.”
“Not great enough for Ravenclaw to beat you.” She murmured, slightly annoyed. “We would’ve won that match if Davies hadn’t substituted Chambers for Bradley.”
Harry smiled. “I have no doubt. Fair game, though?”
With hesitance, she nodded. “Fair game.”
He took notice of her face, the lipgloss she wore and the darkness of her eyelashes, a blush creeping up his neck.
As dinner soon came to a conclusion, Y/N was tasked with the light burden of walking him to the door. “See you Thursday.” She dropped the coins into his hand, their fingers brushing against each other, but only he took notice of the warmth radiating between them.
Had he been hallucinating?
△⃒⃘
“Mum and dad are out, come in.”
He nodded meekly, the confidence he’d built up since Monday dissipated. “You’re working on downstairs, today. The floors.” It was his first time seeing her at home, comfortable. Not leaving, or just returning.
But the thought of it reminded him of a particularly embarrassing day.
The upstairs flooring was completely carpeted, easier to clean than downstairs as all he had to do was a quick vacuum.
He pushed the machine along, running it over every imperfection he could spot, until he found himself before a certain door that was now shut, like always.
Harry contemplated. Her bedroom counted as upstairs, right?
The boy was itching to refresh his memory of her room, dying to know if her decor had remained the same, despite it being just a little over a week since he’d last seen it.
With an odd spur of confidence, he wrapped his hand around the old knob, twisting it and opening the door with a quiet click.
He didn’t expect her to actually be home, and he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed her door open just about three inches, a bespectacled eye peeking through. It was much too loud to hear the opening of the door, with the noise of the vacuum and the melody of Celestina Warbeck’s debut album playing at a considerably loud volume.
She laid on her stomach, bed lazily made underneath her, her cheek resting on her palm, the other hand holding an arithmancy textbook.
Her legs occasionally swung back and forth in the air. Y/N was clad in just a pair of pajama shorts and a vest to combat the summer heat they weren’t used to in London, or Hogwarts. 
Harry’s breath hitched into his throat, all of his willpower being used to ensure he was not to choke and break out into a coughing fit at the sight of her chest pushed up due to her positioning. After all, he was a teenage boy.
With a gulp, he quietly shut the door, shaking his head at no one but himself.
She didn’t instantly run upstairs, instead, she returned to her seat at the dining table, picking up her quill and continuing her scribble. 
Y/N’s system was neat, efficient. Several relevant textbooks were scattered around her, each open to a different section. Multiple past essays she’d written, and scored especially high on, displayed for her to copy any impressive vocabulary. The television was on, but she didn’t seem to be distracted, instead, she hummed along to the tune of whatever Weird Sisters song was playing, continuing to write.
Grabbing the broom, he began his duties.
Minutes passed, downstairs was a lot of ground to cover.
He worked around her. “Would you like anything to eat?”
Harry’s head snapped up to find her already looking at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry? Erm, no. Thank you, though.” She nodded, unsure of how to feel after what felt like his rejection. “Do you like music?”
The girl chuckled at his question. “I do, a lot. You?”
“I don’t listen to it much.”
“You should come over more often, then. I have a massive collection of records upstairs, we could listen together, find out what’s to your taste.”
He only nodded with a small smile, internally giddy a the thought of this being their first conversation, instigated by no one but them. His heart nearly burst at the thought of being in her room, a record turning while they chatted about whatever. “Do you go to the burrow a lot?”
“Only sometimes, to see Fred and George. I’ve never seen you there, do you go often?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“Must be a coincidence, we keep missing each other.”
In his effort to get the mop out and ready for use, his shoulder jerked, hitting the shelf next to him.
Multiple books had come off at the impact, falling onto the floor and landing with a harsh thud. “Here, let me help.” Harry didn’t hear her, and he didn’t notice the speed at which she’d walked around the dining table and to the shelf, too soaked up in his nervousness and silently scolding himself.
Y/N crouched down, collecting the fallen books into a pile. “Thank you, I’m sorry for the mess.” He forced out.
She let out a giggle, then another, and then a proper laugh. He only stared at her in utter bewilderment, wondering whether he was a joke, or she was a madwoman. “Sorry,” She calmed down, a few chuckles still coming between her words. “you’re just so oddly charming.”
The Ravenclaw took notice of his expression, an adorable mixture of worrisome, flushed and somewhat flattered. “It’s a good thing. You’re cute.”
“Cute?”
She shuffled closer to him to reach for the stack of books he’d picked up, the pair of them now fully sat on the cold floor. “Yes, Potter. Cute.”
He turned his head to face her, they were now aware of their proximity, the closeness. The lack of space between them. His brows furrowed nonetheless, his mouth forming a pout. “Cute? Really?”
“Would you prefer another adjective? Adorable?” Her face moved toward his, a bashful smile playing on her lips. “Harry?”
“Yes?” The call of his name didn’t aid him in snapping out of his trance, he was hypnotized by the colour of her eyes, the strawberry scent of her moisturizer filling his nostrils. “Can I kiss you?”
With her nod, their lips joined, his hand travelling to cup her cheek.
The front door shut, with a brief announcement from her parents, declaring their return. “Better get to work.” Y/N whispered, patting his chest twice before returning back to her study station.
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king-craftsman · 3 months
Text
Black And White
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"Ugh why the hell are people even into this kinda stuff?"
Scott couldn't believe what he was seeing. He swore, what was even the point of all these algorithms if they were going to continue recommending stuff he wasn't into? This must have been the tenth "What I'd Wear In The 1950's" video he had blocked.
He decided to put on some music instead as he thought to himself.
He just didn't get it.
He knew that these people didn't want to genuinely live in the past, that it was all about an appreciation for the design, the outfit, the aesthetic. But even that angle just came across less ignorant and more pretentious. Who the hell would wanna even pretend to live in the 50's?
There was no internet, no vaccines, no nothing. The only part about it that Scott liked were the movies, he had to admit there was something about them that were so alluring and it wasn't some gripping plot or enthralling mystery that got to him.
It was the men.
All dressed up with their slick hair and expensive suits, the trenchcoats and hats, suspenders and suit vests, the shiny shoes and cigarette smoke trailing from the full lips. Scott never realised it but he couldn't believe how turned on he was feeling thinking about that.
That's because just a few moments ago, he wasn't turned on by any of that.
In fact Scott used to hate old films, even ones from the 80's barely interested him.
But in his venting, he hadn't clicked out the YouTube window, he instead switched tabs and left the autoplay on, where a calm and jazzy 1950s tune played and the more it played, the more Scott's head suddenly began to fill with how much he loved those noir movies.
He hadn't even noticed that his hand on the mouse had began to change, not only growing larger but growing lighter, almost too light as his pale skin shimmered slightly like it was underneath a film reel. But oddly enough the sleeve of his shirt began to darken and not just because it was turning into the sleeve of an expensive suit jacket, but as if his hand was draining of all colour, as it turned black and white.
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That's when Scott realised.
"The fuck?!" He quickly tried to control his hand, but there was nothing he could do. It shimmered and flickered like it was in another realm world as the sound of running film filled the room. Scott couldn't move his hand as it went and clicked on the tab with the music and suddenly moved to turn the volume to its max.
Sweet jazz music filled the room as the changes were progressing faster, the drainage of colour spreading down toward his arms now which were suddenly beginning to grow thicker, causing the new suit jacket to become tighter.
Scott wanted to use his other hand to reach up and turn his whole computer off. But the moment he reached out, he spluttered and coughed as smoke trailed down his throat. He felt something in his mouth, tasting bitter and dark as his free hand reached to take it out, only to see what it was, a lit cigarette.
"O-Oh fuck that feels good," Scott spoke, a sudden Transatlantic accent overtaking his voice, turning it deeper and more authoritative. His own voice managed to carry so much weight that it seemed to swell his throat, like it needed more room to work with as his neck thickened slightly, beginning to look more befitting for a larger and taller body.
More and more of Scott was turning monochrome, spreading over hands that looked more manly and large by the minute as one of the hands forced him to be unable to stop the music. The other brought the cigarette closer and closer to his growing fuller lips.
"N-No please don't...make me..." But then the cigarette met those lips finalizing their change and as he sucked in more of the smoke, he could feel like the aura of the transformation was coming in hot, making him change from the inside out.
He remembered growing up in the late 20's, memories flashing of older looking city streets, fancy cars and men constantly in suits. He remembered his first case and the thought of it all made his cock swell as he grew more and more manly and muscular beneath his three-piece suit.
His visage had the most remarkable change. His soft jaw began to sharpen as his face grew more angular. Eyes turned from a dull brown to sparkling blue, more focused and attentive as his nose elongated with a slight tilt at the very tip. His lips had become fuller and his hair, once somewhat shaggy and greasy was retreating back into his scalp to become something more refined, turning short and slicked back with pomade.
As Scott's cock throbbed, his home changed. His computer become a record player, still playing those jazzy blues on loop. His doctorate degree turned into a painting whilst shelves of comic books and fantasy novels transformed into mysteries and non-fiction. All before finally his smartphone on his desk, his last saving grace to stop this change and call for help flattened and expanded, turning black and white into a big broadsheet newspaper with the date on the front, reading the year.
1955.
And with that, Scott realised too late what was happening before he felt his cock throb and come in his pants, again and again and again...The pleasure ricocheting throughout his new body, like the added muscle mass gave it more space for the pleasure to fill, for the orgasm to sweep over him as Scott forgot all about his old life for the time being.
He was no longer just Scott.
He was Scott Flynn, the hotshot detective in town who could make any man or woman swoon.
By the time the new Scott stirred from the pleasure, he blinked and almost knocked the newspaper off his desk. He looked down, seeing a cigarette in an ashtray and some case files for him to look over, before there was a knock at the door.
"Gosh I must have dozed off," Scott murmured to himself, for some reason he blinked in surprise, as if he wasn't used to his voice.
He looked at the clock. Near midnight.
If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought his dreams were real and he was stuck living out some noir film for a few days. After all, a knock at the door so late at night, wasn't that how all those noir pictures started?
Either way, he wasn't gonna refuse the call and stood up, dusting himself off and ready to help out on the next case.
After all, what else was a handsome detective like him supposed to do? It was as simple as black and white.
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