#when hes not directly in front of them to witness it

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions: of drug use, drug dealing, stripping, prostitution, drug overdose, seizures, organized crime.

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: After using your quick wit and computer skills to get you both out of a sticky situation, Tony offered you a job, and a beautiful friendship was born.

A/N: And we are ON THE MISSION! Welcome to Atlantic City, besties!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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The Wiggle Room was nothing like Beantown Burlesque, of that you were certain. For a stripclub, Beantown had still managed to cater to a relatively upscale clientele, demanding exorbitant cover charges, selling overpriced drinks, and charging a premium for lap and private dances– hell, Tony Stark had gone there. And they never, ever, encouraged you to take on any ‘extra’ services for customers. Sure, clients asked, but girls were fired for accepting, and if a client wouldn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer, Beantown’s bouncers were more than happy to send them flying out the door on their asses.

You quickly learned that The Wiggle Room played by an entirely different set of rules when a customer asked if he could snort a line of coke off of your ass during your first shift. Everyone, it seemed, was high on some kind of drug, customers and coquettes alike. It made it surprisingly easy to get information out of people without rousing too much suspicion onto yourself.

Within the first two weeks, you and Sam were able to uncover that most, if not all, of the missing women you were investigating had either been, or tried out to be, dancers, bought drugs, or prostituted themselves out of the club. You were definitely in the epicenter of the disappearances. You positively had the where, but you were still far from discovering the why and the who.

You and Sam had set up a temporary caseboard in the dining nook of the apartment you were using as your safehouse. The two of you had already been good friends, but playing a couple at the club and sharing tight accommodations had intensified the power of your bond, and as you sat in front of the caseboard eating your Chinese takeout together, you couldn’t help but rib one another.

“Lavender definitely has a thing for you,” you pointed your chopsticks at him, referring to one of the club’s older dancers, who, at 45, had taken a shine to the Falcon from the moment he’d taken his position as member of the club’s security team.

“Well, can you blame her?” Sam said, slurping up the noodles of his lo mein. “Hard to resist a good piece of dark chocolate, and Ole Sammy’s a fine box of Godiva.”

You wrinkled up your face. “Okkkay,” you said, “ignoring the fact that there’s so much gross in that statement that I don’t even know where to begin, should I give her your number, then?”

Sam nearly choked on his food. “Absolutely not!” he coughed. “She’s got six kids!”

“Wow, Samuel,” you said, pretending to be offended on Lavender’s behalf, “I didn’t realize you were prejudiced against single moms. Does Sarah, know that fascinating tidbit about you?”

“Nuh-uh, Baby Girl. Don’t you go tryin’ to put words in my mouth. I got nothin’ against single moms– they’re the backbone of this country– but Lavender’s also got six baby daddies she doesn’t know how to quit. I ain’t lookin’ for that kinda drama in my love life, thank you very much.”

You took a bite of your chicken & broccoli. “Fair point,” you conceded. “I’ll allow it.” Sam tipped his head to you in his thanks. 

You let your attention drift back to the board. In addition to photos of the missing women, you’d also managed to populate it with a combination of ID photos and mugshots of the club’s employees and management. As you’d learned the identities of your coworkers, you’d been able to piece the hierarchy of the organization together, but you only got as far as the club’s owner, Vladimir Kozlov. When you’d sent his name and some covert photos back to the Tower, you hadn’t been surprised to receive word back from Natasha that Kozlov had, at one point, been a low-level thug in the Russian mob. What you hadn’t yet been able to decipher, however, was how he kept the club afloat. According to your research, the Wiggle Room was hemorrhaging money, its expenses far surpassing its recorded income, yet Kozlov dressed himself in the finest European suits and drove a seemingly never-ending rotation of sports cars that would rival Tony’s. 

You and Sam had both come to the shared conclusion that Kozlov didn’t have the brain cells to run a successful, let alone lucrative, criminal operation on his own, and therefore, there must be silent partners involved in the club that you’d not yet been able to identify. The drugs that were sold out of the club could account for some of its income, but not nearly enough. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you said, turning back to Sam.

“Why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave when you said that?” he asked you with an exaggerated shiver.

You cocked your head. “Probably because it’s a terrible one.” Nibbling on your lower lip, you debated whether or not to tell him. He was going to hate it, but you couldn’t think of a better way to get closer to Kozlov’s inner circle. “I think I should start buying drugs from Kozlov’s men.”

The look Sam gave you was withering. “Pocket,” he warned, “that’s an actual crime.”

“I’m not going to do them, Sam!” You put down your carton of rice. “I just need to make them think I am. Kozlov keeps the girls that buy from him close– he likes how they come to rely on him. I think it gets his rocks off to have them be dependent on him. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he lets things slip in front of them because they’re too strung out to pay attention.”

Sam seemed to consider your proposal. “I don’t like it, Baby Girl,” he said. “It sounds dangerous. What if he tries to take advantage of you?”

You held up the silver bangle that served as your distress signal. “Then I call for the calvary,” you said. “I won’t actually be high, so I’ll still have my wits about me.”

“So, you think you know enough about gettin’ high to fake it in front of a bunch of drug dealers?” Sam asked, clearly thinking you were overestimating your acting abilities. 

You puffed a breath out of the corner of your mouth. “Yeeeeah. So, here’s the thing… I might have spent a good chunk of my teen years on a variety of illegal substances.”

Sam’s eyebrows went comically high. “Come again for Dark Chocolate?”

How to be truthful yet maintain your sense of dignity here? “Everyone at the Tower knows how my childhood was rough, yeah? That my parents were shit? And that’s the reason I don’t have anything to do with them?” Sam nodded. This much of your past, at least, was common knowledge, and you were more or less keen to leave it that way. “Alright, so, part of that shit was that my mom and her boyfriend were drug addicts. Mom preferred meth and booze, but the boyfriend was less discriminate. He’d do anything if it got him high enough. When he needed me to… let’s say ‘behave,’ he’d give me something, whatever he had on hand. Weed, MDMA, coke, benzos, Special K, opiates. Really didn’t matter to him. The drugs made me easier to control. So, I know how to act like I’m high, because I’ve been high. A lot.”

The look in Sam’s eyes morphed from disappointment at your idea to horror at your revelation. “Fuck. Baby Girl, I had no idea.” You couldn’t meet his gaze; unlike your past as a stripper, this was something you were deeply ashamed of.

“It’s fine, Sam,” you told him, picking your food carton up again just to give you something to focus on. “It was a long time ago.

“What made you stop?” he asked, no judgment, just genuine sincerity in his question.

“Same thing that saved the rest of my sorry ass,” you shrugged, playing with the flaps of the paper carton. “Tony. By that point, though, it was mostly just Adderall to focus on school work and so I could stay awake to take more shifts at the club, and weed for when the Adderall wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“One time, I took too much Adderall to cram for a final, and I had a seizure. Tony had to take me to the hospital, and he was furious– I’ve honestly never seen him so mad. Trust me when I say it made his fight with Cap look like a playground spat. I thought for sure he was going to wash his hands of me. I wouldn't have blamed him.”

The memory of it played through your mind, the sheer disappointment in Tony’s eyes as the doctors told him what they’d found in your system. 

“But, the thing was, Tony blamed himself, said he’d put too much pressure on me. Kept saying he was turning into his father, and he couldn’t have that. So, instead of tossing me out on my ass like he should have, he got me help.”

Sam’s mouth hung open. “I’m sorry, but I think we know two different Tony Starks. This altruism does not jive with the man I work with.”

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders again. “Not my fault he likes me better than you, Samuel. I am a lot cuter.”

“Debatable,” Sam replied before taking a swig of his beer. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you don’t think it’s gonna be too much of a temptation for you,” he said after a pause, “I think the drug-buying might work. We can give it a shot, at least.”

You sipped your iced tea. “Won’t be a problem, Sammy. The girl who constantly did that stuff is gone, and she’s not coming back.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[slippinninque]

🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣

Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic

Truth was, you were a secret shaker.

A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.

When you were alone, though...

You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.

It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.

Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.

Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.

Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.

You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.

The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.

It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.

The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.

Your entire body sang a song.

At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.

Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.

Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.

Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.

Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.

------

You screamed when you saw him standing there.

The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.

Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.

"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.

You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.

When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.

How long has he been here?

This was different.

Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.

"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."

"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."

Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.

"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."

You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.

"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"

"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."

Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little him, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.

"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"

You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.

Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.

"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"

His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.

No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.

It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.

Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.

"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"

His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.

You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.

"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."

"Oh, word?"

"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.

"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."

His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .

"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"

"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."

"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."

Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.

What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. It was perfect for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.

The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.

"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."

Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.

Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.

Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.

Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.

Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.

Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.

When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.

"That felt personal." You pouted over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."

"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.

You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.

"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"

"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."

You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?

Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.

His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."

"Is it the horny way?"

Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.

"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."

"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"

Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.

Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.

When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.

Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.

You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."

Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.

You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.

"How bad you want it, pretty?"

"Bad, real bad."

"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"

" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."

It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.

LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.

It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.

Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.

"Thta's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."

Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.

"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.

"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.

Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.

"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"

He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.

You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"

Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.

"Show me how you want it."

As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.

Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.

"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."

Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.

When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.

"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."

Fontaine's eyes flashed.

"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?

The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.

Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.

When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.

What's another little secret?

"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"

Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.

"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch.."

Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.

"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"

'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'

He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.

That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.

Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he gently collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be shaking for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.

What a way to go....

------

When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.

He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."

"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."

Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, got me there.

He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."

The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.

"I...okay. I can do that for you."

You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.

He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.

"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."

"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."

Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."

-----------

ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! 💕🥰💜

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance

(just a few don't wanna harass the masses with my mess 🥹)

[good-old-gossip]

Israeli quadcopters are employing a "bizarre" new tactic of playing audio recordings of crying infants and women in order to lure Palestinians to locations where they can be targeted. On Sunday and Monday night, residents of the northern parts of Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp woke up to the sounds of babies crying and women calling out for help.

When they went outside to locate the source of the cries and provide aid, Israeli quadcopters reportedly opened fire directly at them. Samira Abu al-Leil, a resident of the refugee camp, told Middle East Eye that she heard Israeli quadcopters opening fire during and shortly after playing the recorded sounds, which lasted for several minutes and recurred multiple times on Monday night. "I heard a woman crying and screaming for help, saying, ‘Help me, my son was martyred’. The sounds were coming from the street and they were bizarre," the 49-year-old said. “Some men rushed out to the rescue, only to be shot by the quadcopters that kept roaming all night long."

According to eyewitnesses, at least seven to 10 people were injured by the quadcopter fire overnight. Residents were unable to help the victims, as the "quadcopters were firing at anything that moved". However, an ambulance managed to reach the area and transport them to hospital. "At night, the streets are usually empty and men are inside their homes," Leil added. "When the quadcopters open fire, they only hit the roofs and streets, they don’t find any people to shoot. So they played these sounds because they know the nature of our society; they know that men were going to try to provide help.

They wanted them to go out so that they could shoot them," she said. "Yesterday and the night before, quadcopter bullets hit our roof, door and the street in front of our home. But yesterday morning, they fired some kind of explosive bombs with shrapnel that spreads everywhere on our neighbourhood, leaving many residents injured." Quadcopters are remote-controlled drones that have been used extensively against Palestinian fighters and civilians in the Gaza Strip since 7 October.

This technology is gradually replacing ground troops, aiding in target identification, individual targeting, and securing areas where Israeli soldiers are stationed. Additionally, quadcopters can scout forward positions, target individuals within residences, and disperse crowds in public spaces. A significant event involving the use of quadcopters occurred on 11 January when a large crowd waiting for food on al-Rasheed Street, near the Gaza City coastline, came under fire from the Israeli military.

Numerous witnesses recounted quadcopters firing upon hundreds of individuals awaiting the arrival of aid trucks. Muhammed Abu Youssef, 19, told MEE that at around 2am on Monday he heard the cries of babies. However, since people were posting on social media to raise awareness of the source of these sounds, he chose not to venture outside. “There were different sounds coming from the quadcopters. They were making noises; some recordings were comprehensible and some were not. They lasted for around 30 to 60 minutes, then the quadcopters started opening fire and firing bombs in the neighbourhood,” he said. “We did not go out, because we learned that these were only recordings played by the quadcopters to lure us to go out.”

A video recorded by a resident of Nuseirat refugee camp, and circulating on social media, showcased sounds of crying infants, while the resident explained that these were pre-recorded sounds played by Israeli quadcopters.

"Over the past three days, there have been at least 12 injuries due to quadcopter fire. This morning alone, we rescued six people who were wounded in the neighbourhood. The injuries were serious: some were shot directly in the head.” According to the residents, the audio recordings also included songs in both Hebrew and Arabic, including children’s songs, sounds of clashes and moving tanks, voices of Palestinian armed men, and voices of local roaming vendors of cleaning products familiar to residents of Gaza. For over a week, the Israeli army has been carrying out an intense military attack on the northwestern part of Nuseirat, targeting individuals, homes and neighbourhoods with artillery, aerial and naval shelling, as well as quadcopter gunfire.

[cainware]

I want Jason refusing to help the batfamily. Jason, who's picked up what little bit is left of his life after coming to the understanding that the love and care of most of the bats is entirely conditional, and moved away from Gotham to fully start healing. He doesn't have to contact them, and not having to appeal to their grandiose sense of morality makes his healing so much easier. It's messy still, but he finds that he's happy when he's away from the bats.

[myfictionaldreams]

I you are interested I wanted to offer a possible request.

It would be a smutty mafia!stucky one (you can pick which one of them or both if you want)

So I was thinking about the reader topping one of them, but not in a dominant way. Like she was good or something and wanted to reward her by letting her pick anything she wanted and she wanted to ride them while they were restrained.

So (whoever was picked) would be bound to the bed with a blindfold and the reader gets to use them for her pleasure with free rain and cause of the blindfold they feel and hear everything more intensely so they can hear how wet she is as she uses them for her reward.

So she's not dominating them just getting a free use card and can move however she wants unprompted, cum how many times she wants, overstimulate (whoever is used) until she is happy and can use toys on herself too but all they can do is lay on the bed restrained and wait for her to be satisfied before being let go.

This came to me so randomly so I thought it might be an option for you maybe if you liked it. Have a nice day!

Being on Top // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

A/N: I've thought about this request so much. Thank you so much for sending it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, anxiety, mention of gunshot wound, free use, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, rough sex, oral (f receiving), cum eating, cockwarming, overstimulation, restraints, blindfolds, vibrator, begging, praise kink, riding, dom/sub, rough cock play, masturbation

Words: 5.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Bucky watched intently. Fighting the urge to blink and wet the dryness itching at his eyes, he continued monitoring the situation before him. You were vacant. Eyes glassed over, and your body curled in on itself like you were attempting to make yourself as small as possible. It wasn’t this that concerned him; it was that you couldn’t look Steve in the eye despite trying to glimpse him out of the corner of your eye every couple of seconds.

Steve was watching with just as much concern as the bodyguards throughout the room, Sam and Natasha. Unbeknown to you, however, your gaze flicked towards Steve again but then swiftly landed on the spot on the carpet that had so thoroughly captured your attention.

Bucky had been trying to work the cogs in his brain for over an hour now, trying to figure out what was happening in your mind. The visible signs of distress he’d witnessed before when you were feeling fragile, whether it be due to being needy and submissive or because you were beginning to feel unwell with sickness. The first was most likely as you were displaying any visible signs of being ill; your heart rate was fine, and the same with your breathing; he knew he’d been counting and listening carefully. For once, he thanked his unique abilities.

The most likely answer was that you were experiencing some sort of mental health decline, but when you were needy or in the form of subspace, you would crawl into either his or Steve’s lap, not look frightened even to look the latter in the eye.

Risking a look away, Bucky caught Steve’s eye. The same level of concern was etched deep into his face; brows furrowed so deeply a line had formed between them. His teeth were clenched so hard that he looked like his jawbone would snap as he held his tongue, trying and failing to think of the right way to approach his girlfriend. The one person who shouldn’t be scared of him now looked as frightened of him as the enemies who cowered at his feet.

Bucky was running out of options as you began to chew on the corner of your recently done red-manicured nails, one of the many treats gifted to you by him and Steve for Valentine’s Day. It was never a good sign when you fell into old habits, and Bucky was on the verge of ripping out his hair and trying to decide what was best. Ask what is going on or approach you like a scared animal.

As his mouth opened, however, a flash of red distorted his view of you as Natasha stood directly in front of where you were curled up on the couch placed in Steve’s office for your comfort.

Natasha looked down at you, giving you a casual grin as she held out her hand with the matching manicure on her nails gleaming back at you, the red almost the same shade as her hair. Your eyes darted between her wiggling fingers and the welcoming smile as she nodded toward the door.

Taking her hand without a single word, you unfolded from your curled-up position and stood, mindlessly following her out of the door. Natasha pulled you into the elevator at the end of the corridor, riding down a couple of floors before arriving at the food hall with a private kitchen. One of the main perks of owning the entire building for the gang was that the sky was the limit concerning the facilities that could be added.

“Sit”, Natasha instructed, pointing to the table closest to the kitchen side as she began to boil some water, pulling out two mugs from the cabinets. “When I was a child, I used to suffer from nightmares, well, I still have nightmares. I’m just old enough now that I can drink something a bit stronger. But back then, when my hair used to be blue, I’d make myself a hot cocoa”. As she finished explaining, she placed a steaming hot drink before you, topping off the sweet beverage with a squirt of cream and marshmallows.

Sitting down opposite you, she took a moment to let you settle in, feeling thankful that you cupped the drink and allowed your hands to warm as you didn’t shut her out.

“Do you ever think about how fragile we all are?” you asked after staring into the mug in your hands.

Natasha frowned, opening her mouth to make a sarcastic comment of ‘not really’ but refrained as she saw the seriousness in your expression. “What’s brought this on?” You didn’t answer at first, but she noted how you uncomfortable shifted in your seat, shoulders hunching forward to mirror how you sat moments ago.

It took her a couple of minutes, but then it all dawned on Natasha as she sat forward in her seat, leaning on her elbows on the table. “Does this have to do with what happened with the boss three days ago?”

She knew she'd guessed right From how your eyes flinched and teeth began biting your lower lip. Steve had been shot whilst out for dinner with you and Bucky. It had been a well-calculated attack, and no one blamed themselves more than Natasha did for not spotting the attacker before it was too late. She was his bodyguard and had yet to fail at her job, and even though it was a superficial wound and, thanks to Steve’s accelerated healing, was already just a pink scar on his abdomen, Natasha still cursed herself.

Steve didn’t blame anyone other than the asshole who shot him and had spent many hours with him the previous night, getting his revenge and delving into all of his secrets. He’d been more concerned and out for revenge due to the distress it had caused you to see Steve shot. Hysterical was putting it lightly.

You’d screamed until your voice croaked, cried until your eyes were swollen, and become completely overwhelmed by the situation, needing to stay by Steve’s side entirely without sleeping until yesterday evening when you’d all but passed out. With Bucky staying by your side, Steve was able to sneak out and finally get his revenge against the shooter, and when he returned, you were swift to motherhen him even though he insisted that he was practically healed and back to normal.

“Talk to me, Sweet. I can’t help unless you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours”, Natasha encouraged, leaning across the table and grasping your hand.

You sighed, squeezing her hand back as you tried to find the right words to explain your feelings. “I just realised how useless I am. I mean, Steve was shot, and I completely froze; I think all I was able to do was scream. I didn’t even put pressure on the wound or hold his hand. After everything I’ve seen whilst being a part of this gang, you’d think I’d be more aware of intense situations and how to handle myself, but everything just flashed before me and how close I was to losing one of the men I love. And Steve - god, I’m so embarrassed! I’m too scared to look at him properly for fear of seeing shame in his eyes at how I reacted. I mean, what kind of a girlfriend am I to the infamous Steve Rogers, the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in Brooklyn? I couldn’t handle something he’d been training me to be prepared for. He must have thought I was pathetic”.

“Do you really think I’d ever think that about you?” Steve asked from the doorway with Bucky over his shoulder, both looking defeated.

You were startled at his appearance, cursing his silent steps as you also felt somewhat vulnerable with him having heard your worries. “I, um, I didn’t want you to hear that”.

Steve sighed as he roughly rubbed his palm over his face and stepped further into the room. Natasha stood with a last squeeze of your hand before exiting and patting Bucky on the shoulder as she moved past him and out, leaving the three of you alone.

“Baby, you know I would never think any of those things of you. What happened was a horrible mistake, and I wish more than anything that you weren’t there to witness it. I always want to keep you protected, physically and mentally and trust me, if anything ever happened to you, I’d-” he closed his mouth, eyes clenching in a flinch like even just the thought of you being injured caused him physical pain.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “The main point here is that you’re both ok. There’s no point dwelling on the past, and we all react differently when we see loved ones hurt, so I don’t want to hear anymore self-doubt coming out of your lips”, Bucky reprimanded whilst giving you a pointed look and pulling himself and Steve closer towards you.

You couldn’t help but squeal as he moved back your chair, turning it to face them as they each pulled their chairs close enough that their knees brushed yours. Steve cupped your hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss your fingers and palms. “Please don’t shut me out, and next time you have any anxiety over what's happened, you need to talk to me, Sweetheart”, Steve urged whilst maintaining eye contact that you didn’t break this time.

“I will; I’m sorry” Without missing a beat, you closed the distance and kissed him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your back, pulling your body into his lap so he could hold you close.

“God, you two are going to make me cry in a minute”, Bucky suddenly announced, leaning back in his chair and wiping away an imaginary tear from his eye. Steve rolled his eyes as he held you closer with one hand and reached out with the other for Bucky to take, which he did with a smirk, removing the now empty chair so that he could be knee to knee with Steve and place his metal hand on your lower back.

“As much as I love my life, I sometimes hate how dramatic it is”,  Steve mused a second later as he kissed the side of your head.

“Mmm, I agree - shit, this drink is good”, Bucky half shouted as he drank more of the cocoa in the mug as you turned towards him with an amused smile. He looked at you and paused mid-sip, “This is yours, isn’t it?” he realised out loud before swearing and slamming the mug back onto the table. “Shit, sorry, I thought it was Romanoff’s. I’ll buy you a special treat on our way home, which I think we need to discuss, by the way”.

Steve sat up straight in his chair, causing you to move slightly in his lap as he gave Bucky a questioning stare, “What’s wrong with home?”

“Nothing’s wrong with home; why do you always assume the worst?” Bucky questioned with his head tilted to the side, catching your eye and winking before continuing. “I was just thinking that maybe the two of you need some special time alone tonight”.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere either”, you say quickly, not wishing to be separated from either of them.

Bucky’s fingers reassuringly added pressure to your back as he gently shook his head, showing the misunderstanding. “I didn’t mean it like that, Doll. I just meant maybe you two could have some fun together, and luckily for you two, I have something in mind”.

Bucky’s plan for you and Steve resulted in the two of you hours later being naked in your bedroom with him watching in a chair.

“Remind me why I’m handcuffed again?” Steve asked with a sarcastic drawl from where he lay in the centre of the bed, his head carefully resting on the fluffed pillows and both wrists handcuffed above his head around the bed frame.

“Well, you tend to be all dominate and in charge when you’re having sex, and I think our sweet girl needs some reminding that you’re ok, you’re safe, and what better way for her to do that than her to be in control of how she touches your body?” Bucky explains nonchalantly as he rubs a hand over his growing bulge in his underwear, the rest of his clothes in a pile on the floor.

“Ok, that makes sense, but why the blindfold?” Steve asked, tilting his head toward where Bucky was sitting but couldn’t see with the thick black cloth tied around his head covering his eyesight.

“Ah well, that's just fun for me; I get to watch our beautiful girl at work; you get to feel it. I mean, I need to have some fun tonight”, Bucky responded cheekily as you smiled whilst trying to adjust your weight from where you sat naked, straddling Steve’s chest.

“I’m um, I’m not very good at being in charge” You tried to hide the quiver in your voice, but instantly, your cheeks began to warm with embarrassment.

Bucky leaned forward in his chair, capturing your attention fully as he gave you a reassuring smile, “Like I explained, Sweetheart. All I want you to think about is your pleasure. You can get yourself off, fuck Steve, use toys, whatever you’d like to feel good but don’t worry about Stevie, boy; he can handle whatever you’re going to give him”.

“I sure as fuck can” Steve grinned as he rolled his hips, causing you to gasp and lean forward, putting your hands out onto his shoulders to stop yourself from falling.

“Hey! None of that now, Rogers. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride,” Bucky grinned, showing his straight teeth as it was your turn to roll your eyes before focusing your attention on Steve.

One of the reasons you were never the one to be in charge, other than you were submissive down to the very bone, was that you were unsure what to do. To Steve and Bucky, it seemed to come so quickly for them, knowing where to touch, the next move to have you groaning in pleasure, but sitting there staring down at Steve, you were unsure where to touch him or how to start. Do you just slide a few inches back and sit on his already hard cock? Do you suck his cock for a bit or jerk him off? But what if he came and you overstimulated him?

“I can see you are overthinking over there. Remember what I said; think about your pleasure only”, Bucky reminded you quietly.

Nodding your head, you took a moment to stare down at Steve, and the events over the last few days dawned on you. Even though he’d survived significantly worse in his life, you couldn't help but contemplate just how close to losing everything you’d ever dreamed of and needed. Having him here, beneath you, living and breathing.

Before you could lose yourself to the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over, you decided to clear your mind of those negative thoughts by lowering your mouth to his. The two of you released a breath simultaneously as Steve eagerly pressed his face firmly against yours, his head lifting off the pillow slightly.

It wasn’t a desperately messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. It was a kiss that had the moment standing still as your hand rested over his heart, feeling the beat beneath, having the reminder that he was still here with you.

Pulling back from the kiss so that you were hovering over his face, you whispered intimately, “I love you”.

“I love you too,” was his instant response in the same calm tone, like a whisper in the wind.

Swallowing the emotional lump in your throat, you briefly pecked his lips once before trailing kisses down his chin and exploring the column of his throat, smiling as you felt him swallow beneath your lips. With your hands, you trailed your fingertips down his arms, feeling goosebumps lining his skin as you moved to meet where your mouth met his skin.

Slowly as you could, you kissed your way down his chest, making sure to lick and nip his peaked nipples, enjoying the little gasps he released as you contemplated that you’d never noticed how sensitive his nipples actually were. Further down, you moved as your legs shifted between him, making sure that his legs were spread so that you could fit between him perfectly.

As your lips continued giving open-mouthed kisses over his abs, you aimed for the pink scar close to his hip bone. The kiss pressed to the recently claimed gunshot injury that had even lightened in the shade since this morning with his accelerated healing. Steve’s legs tensed as he tried to refrain from thrusting his hips into the air as your breasts pressed against his thick length that you were attempting to ignore whilst worshipping his body.

“This is a cute moment and all, but I wanna see you cum already, Doll”, Bucky groaned impatiently as you looked at him over your shoulder as he sat with his hands clenched in his lap, as he continued to refrain from touching himself even though he was evidently very much aroused.

You smile against Steve’s skin and take one last breath of his natural body scent that had mixed with the spicy aftershave he’d used earlier this morning. Taking your time, you shift back to your original position of sitting across his abs, carefully sitting above the fresh scar that was still sensitive.

“I think I want to put these chiselled abs to good work”, you say whilst stroking a finger down them, laughing to yourself as Steve tensed, defining them even more solidly. Relaxing the position of your thighs, you sighed as your wetness now rested against his abdomen.

It wasn’t as satisfying as humping against his thigh because of the flat shape of his toned body, but that didn’t stop you from riding him slowly, making sure to really drag your clit in small circles against his body.

Your moans were breathy and gentle as your pleasure bloomed in your core, especially as Steve struggled to keep his emotions and body in heck beneath.

Licking his lips, he admitted, “I really fucking wish I could see you right now”.

“Oh, don’t you worry, big boy, she looks beautiful, there’s no doubt about that”, Bucky responded as he finally moved his black boxers to midthigh, his hand wrapped around his shaft as he matched the pace you were driving.

Deciding you needed something that had more definition than his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you shifted back down the bed until your cunt was flushed with Steve’s shaft that was hard and resting against his pubic bone. There was already a patch of precum that had pooled, and without thinking, you scooped it up with your finger and sucked the juices, savouring the musky saltiness.

“Holy shit”, Bucky cursed as his eyelids lowered in arousal.

Steve was trembling with restraint now as you began to slide your warm cunt against his shaft, making sure not to go over the tip as you wanted to savour the feel of his length first before fucking yourself on him.

In this position, you were quickly coating his cock in your juices, helping to prepare him for when you did want to sit on his cock, which, in fairness, would probably be soon with how horny you were feeling.

Faster and with more pressure, you ground down on his shaft until the burning in your core exploded, your cunt pulsing around nothing as you shivered through the sensation, breathing deeply with soft moans.

Leaning your hands on his chest, you shifted your hips forward, catching the tip of his cock against your pussy and continuing with the slow movements, not wanting to rush the adrenaline and burn that came with his cock thoroughly stretching your walls.

“So fucking tight”, Steve cursed, pressing his head back further into the pillow as the veins in his arms bulged as he restrained himself from easily snapping out of the handcuffs.

You couldn’t think of coherent words to respond, so sighed in satisfaction, taking a moment to savour the sensation. Eventually, though, the hunger for more became ravenous as you began to lift yourself off of his cock and then slam back onto him.

It was different riding him like this; usually, if you were on top, he’d either have a hand around your throat or his hands gripping your hips tightly and directing your movements. With all the movements being down to just your body, it was almost like having a life-size sex toy that moaned and breathed.

Additionally, it meant that you could really draw out the orgasm that was already threatening to suffocate around his cock as you rode him with slamming hips. Eventually, it all came too much, and with one hand on his chest and the other gripping your breast to squeeze the flesh, you had your second orgasm and a shiver of pleasure.

“You’re so fucking big”, you moaned as you attempted to catch your breath but settled for a different motion instead of riding up and down. Keeping your hips flush with his so that his balls rested against your arse, you began to circle your hips clockwise and then anticlockwise.

Steve gasped as his chest heaved with the attempt of arching his back. “Wait, Steve, shut up for a second”, Bucky demanded, and the three of you stopped making moaning noises, but you continued with your grinding and hip circles, which was when you could hear it too. The obscene sounds of your gushing cunt, sloshing and slurping with the movements. It felt incredible to be so full of Steve, but hearing how much this move was making him lose his mind only motivated you through feeling breathless.

“Holy shit, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard, but if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum”, Steve grunted, his mouth hanging open so that his grunts of pleasure were unfiltered. Bucky was just as vocal from where he sat, getting himself off.

“I want you to cum; please cum for me, Sir”, you begged as Steve moaned at the nickname used. As his dick hardened inside of you, your fingers quickly began to circle your drenched clit matching the movements of your hips as you joined him by cumming at the same time, squeezing his shaft with your walls and milking his cock internally.

It felt unbelievably satisfying to feel the liquid filling you entirely and having no other room but to leak out of the sides and onto his pubic area. Your thighs have tightened so tightly around Steve’s body you were sure if he didn’t have his healing ability, you’d have caused bruises from where your knees had dug into his side.

He never complained once, though, as he tried to catch his breath just as desperately as you were. Slumping forward, your face rested against his chest, directly over his heart so that you could listen to the wild racing of his heart. You were exhausted from riding his cock, and for a moment, you determined the fantastic shape he was in was probably down to being on top all the time.

Your thighs and abdomen muscles ached as you determined you needed a little break from the riding but not from the orgasm, and even though you were feeling a little overstimulated internally, you were somewhat determined to see how far you could go.

Reaching blindly on the bed, you found the vibrating wand and moved it between your bodies until it rested against your clit. With Steve’s cock still somehow still hard, you remained with him inside of you as you turned on the vibrator.

Steve groaned as the vibrations were felt through not just his pubic mound but also your cunt as both were stimulated by the powerful toy. It wasn’t even on the highest setting, but it was enough to take your breath away at first, soon, you settled down, content with simply lying there until an orgasm built.

For a moment, you contemplated releasing Steve from his handcuffs so that he could wrap his big arms around you, but you knew that once he was free from those handcuffs, it would be a free-for-all.

One orgasm spiralled into two, and you had to push the vibrator away as the ache deepened within your cunt. You were exhausted and on the verge of becoming entirely too overstimulated for the orgasms.

“I- I don’t think I can cum again”, you admit whilst gently rocking yourself against Steve’s cock.

“Could I make one request?” Steve asks whilst licking his lips, his voice just as deep as it is when he first wakes up.

“Hmm?” you say in response.

“Sit on my face. I know you’ve had enough, you don’t have to cum, and if it hurts, I’ll stop, but I wanna taste you so bad right now”, Steve pleaded.

“How could I say no to that request”, you muse. Carefully and with a great deal of mess, you slipped off of his throbbing cock, which twitched in the air as his and your juices continued to drip out of your cunt and down his shaft.

With the way you’d climbed off, you ended up kneeling over his face so that you were facing down his body, staring and admiring his cock until the other man in the room caught your attention as Bucky kneeled on the bed.

Just as you lowered your soaking cunt onto Steve’s hot mouth, Bucky reached forward and began to stroke Steve’s cock. The mafia boss beneath you nearly choked on his own cum as he drank down the juices flowing out of you but soon found a rhythm, and as his hips rolled to meet the strokes of Bucky's metal fist, his tongue and lips matched this.

Reaching forward, you pulled Bucky in for a desperate kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, dominating in every way. With the taste of your cunt in his mouth and Bucky’s fist, Steve was cumming again as Bucky carefully caught the thick white seed in his fist, licking up every drop that Steveall but screamed out with his orgasm.

This time, you watched as his cock softened, and carefully you crawled off his face with the help of Bucky’s steady and damp hands. With Bucky’s lips against yours, he stated, “I know you’re not done yet, get back on him”.

Pulling back, you looked down at Steve’s clammy body and the pink blush that had hued over his chest as you determined, “Won’t I hurt him if I sit on his overstimulated cock?”

Steve answered for Bucky, “Fuck no, you won’t hurt me. Get back on Princess”, he pleads desperately. Turning back to face Steve, you try and angle his soft cock at your entrance, but it wouldn’t go back in as Steve cursed at the handling.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” you asked fearfully.

“Yes, I’m sure just- I don’t know. Buck, grip me hard in your fist or something,” he responded, sounding frustrated with his body for a second. You had to bite your lip as Bucky shrugged and gripped Steve’s flaccid cock in his hand, causing the blonde to gasp and arch his back, nearly knocking you over in the process. “Yeah, just like that.”

“You know Steve, some would call you a freak for getting off on pain like that”, Bucky joked half-heartedly as his fist began pumping up and down the hardening cock in his hand.

“Yeah, well, you’re one to talk”, Steve sassed back as he finally became hard enough that you could slide back down his cock. “Just a warning if I cum again, I’ll probably be shooting air out”.

Again, you had to bite your lip to hold back the laugh from Steve’s admission. Bucky led beside the two of you, reaching over to tilt Steve’s blindfolded face towards him. “I thought you could go all night? What’s the point in having all of these special abilities if you’re already shooting blanks after two orgasms”, Bucky contemplated.

“Yeah, well, you have her sit on your cock and see how long you last, asshole”, Steve bite back earning a chuckle from Bucky as you watched them both fondly, trying to get to find a good rhythm to move your body, opting for a slow in and out and circle of your hips.

The soaking noises of your wet cunt began to fill the atmosphere once more as Steve and Bucky started to make out, dimming the noise of their moans. Bucky eased back and whispered into Steve’s ear, “Do you hear how wet she is? Best you can feel it, how sopping wet our girl is. Aw, poor thing she’s getting tired”, Bucky smirks as you frown at him. You were exhausted, but you weren’t letting that stop your movements, by the way, Bucky was winking at you, you knew he was up to something.

Steve gritted his teeth, almost growling as he contemplated his next move, and you realised Bucky was antagonising him as the next second, Steve’s snapping out of the handcuffs. You’re suddenly on your back in the middle of the bed as he rolls the two of you over.

Steve’s face delves into the crook of your neck as your legs are instantly pushed back so that your knees nearly brush against your chest as he completely crowds around you. Clearly having driven him to his limit, Steve did not hold back; he began to fuck you with unfathomably hard and fast thrusts.

His cock was a blur as it pounded into your drenched cunt. All you could do was cling to him, nails scratching into the skin of his shoulders and then up to his jaw, pulling his face back so that you could push his blindfold up that was still covering his eyesight. He blinked down at you, groaning at the sight beneath him as he kissed you feverishly.

You were stuck between kissing, moaning and trying to gasp for breath as your orgasm plummeted through your cunt until you were close to sobbing with the overwhelming emotions. Steve’s powerful body fucked you deep into the bed until he was deeply crying out your name with the trembling effects of his third orgasm. From the feeling of it, he definitely wasn't shooting blanks as more of his seed oozed out of your well-used cunt.

He remained on top of you for a while, his body keeping yours warm as you breathed one another in, but eventually, he was moved onto his side by a gentle hand of Bucky’s.

“Come on, big boy, I need you to move over so I can clean you both up”, the brunette explained as he sat on the bed with a warm washcloth. Steve sighed in contentment but remained with his arms around your torso as he observed Bucky clean up his sensitive flaccid cock.

As Bucky moved between your legs, you tiredly gasped, “Wait, you didn’t get to cum, Bucky”.

Bucky grinned up at you, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he explained, “Oh, don’t worry, I did, twice. You should see the back of Steve; think I might have got some in his hair as he was fucking you into next week”.

Steve quietly cursed before chuckling as he reached a hand behind his head, “Well, the sheets are thoroughly ruined for tonight then”.

[cosmerelists]

Pros and Cons of Stormlight Characters in the Middle Seat Next to You on a Budget Airline.

As requested by anon. :)

1. Kaladin

Cons: His legs are so long. His hair is so luxurious. His shoulders are so broad. This large, beautiful man is not trying to be in your space, but the budget airline seat cannot contain him. Pros: You started what you thought was an idle conversation, but by the end of your flight, he had diagnosed your chronic pain and become your therapist??

2. Shallan

Pros: Well, she's more of a regular-sized human and she's friendly but quiet. She seems to just want to sketch the whole flight, so no complaints! Cons: Why does she keep staring directly at a space across the plane and sketching the creepiest symbol-headed creatures you've ever seen with her eyes vaguely glazed over like she doesn't even know she's doing it holy shit is this a Twilight Zone situation where there are invisible gremlin monsters on this plane that only she can see and is it your imagination or do you hear humming from somewhere

3. Adolin

Cons: Listen, this is a budget airline, and this guy seems to think it's a fancy spa?? He's got the slippers, the posh eye mask, the luxurious travel pillow, some really nice face creams, and he seems to be video chatting with a girl even though the internet on the plane doesn't even work. Frankly, you're jealous and grouchy about it. Pros: Okay, he actually seems really sweet and he gave you some of his way-too-nice-for-an-airplane snacks. You take it all back; this guy is awesome.

4. Szeth

Pros: He is so still. So quiet. Almost folded in on himself. Barely...breathing? Honestly, you keep forgetting the middle seat is occupied, and how rare is that! Cons: You just...you think you'd feel better if he just blinked. Just once. Please.

5. Lift

Cons: You had to sigh just a little when a little kid plopped down next to you. Also, she goes to the bathroom every five minutes, and comes back with food every time. You think she might be robbing people. Pros: She complimented your butt quite sincerely. You've always been kinda self-conscious about your butt! But apparently yours is the "second best she's ever seen." Feels nice.

6. Jasnah

Pros: Like, is it possible for someone to just be really good at flying? She came in, expertly stowed her luggage, sat down elegantly, did her seatbelt, used a wipe to clean up the tray table and surrounding area, and immediately starting reading some thick tome. Do you have a crush on her? You might have a crush on her. Cons: She glanced at the book you're reading, and you know she judged you for it.

7. Wit

Cons: Does this guy EVER stop talking? Pros: Okay, actually, you found him kind of annoying at first, but that story he told you about the temple and the duck might have healed years of trauma? Did you just realize that you don't have to forgive your mom and that's okay?

8. Renarin

Pros: He sat down and you were like, "Okay. Cute nerd. I dig it." Cons: You just wish he wouldn't scrawl foreboding-seeming numerals on the back of the airline chair in front of him. Is it counting down to...just before the plane lands? What does it mean???

9. Amarem

Cons: He came in and was IMMEDIATELY like, "I am taller than you and so I should have your seat." And then he just...waited? Like he thought you'd just comply??? Pros: He seems intent on pretending that never happened. Fine by you. That guy seems like an asshole.

10. Zahel

Pros: He falls asleep, like, immediately and doesn't stir for the entire flight. Cons: He's just kinda stinky.

11. Dalinar

Cons: He sits down and, unprompted, says something like, "In my youth I would always battle to occupy every armrest but now, after reading The Way of Planes, I have realized that it is the journey, not the armrests, that matter, so you can have them" and then you're like, "Dude, the person in the middle seat gets the armrests that's just common courtesy" and then he looks at you and you look at him and it's vaguely awkward the whole flight and nobody uses the armrests. Pros: Actually, after a while you do take the armrest and the tension goes down a lot.

12. Taravangian

Pros: He just kinda seems like a nice old man, you know? Kinda confused about stuff, but harmless enough. Cons: He falls asleep partway through and droops his head onto your shoulder and drools a bit and you know you sound ridiculous but it feels somehow calculated. Intentional. Evil.

13. Sebarial

Cons: The very second beverage service starts he's all, "Bring me a BOTTLE of wine" and you're like, "Oh no. It's one of those dudes who gets way too drunk on planes!" Pros: You know? This guy actually seems pretty jolly and chill. You catch yourself thinking, "I wish I could pretend he was my uncle." You're not sure where that came from.

14. Rock

Pros: He scoffs at the provided airline snacks and gets out this thermos and gives you the best damn soup you've ever had in your life. Cons: He's just a large, warm man. Very large. Very warm. Not his fault, of course, but now YOU are very warm.

15. Elhokar

Cons: Every time there is plane turbulence, he mutters something about how it's the assassins coming to finish the job. Poor dude must be really scared of flying. Pros: You feel a warm, parental feeling growing in you as you look at this sad, scared man. Maybe your mom was right. Maybe you WOULD be good with kids.

16. Eshonai

Pros: This lady is, just, SO excited to be traveling that it can't help but make YOU excited to travel. Like, you always thought plane travel sucked, especially budget airline travel, be she is so delighted by everything that you find yourself thinking, "You know, it IS pretty amazing that we're soaring through the sky right now traveling to a new land." Cons: Cons? No cons. You wish you could ALWAYS see flying through this woman's eyes.

[honeykaes]

three rounds

boxer!wriothesley x reader II 3.0k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, boxer! au, modern au, blood, fighting (boxing), rough sex, wriothesley picks reader up, standing full nelson, semi-public sex, creamipes, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, childhood friends to lover, secret dating, mention of the criminal justice system, implied family abandonment, unedited

synopsis: you and wriothesley had been best friends for ages. you were there when he broke ties with his rich family, when he failed the police academy and now in his success in the boxing ring. this will be the match to decide if he earns the belt and he wants his cheerleader, whom he's secretly dating, to be there in the front seat to witness it.

The glare from the bright white spotlights made you squint and lift your hand up. Black spots littered your vision as you adjusted and stared down at the ring in front of you. Crowds surrounded the entire ring, cheering and yelping in delight excited for the match getting ready to begin.

This was the final match to determine who received the golden belt any professional boxer in England clawed their way to attain. To get it, they would have to rip it out of the claws of the previous boxing champion, Attainer. This would be no easy feat, but you knew that would not stop him from achieving his goal.

“Now we have the underdog, quite literally! Can we get some noise for the newbie with attitude Wriothesley!” the announcer yelled out from the speakers. As soon as he was introduced, the crowd’s noise grew louder, admiring the man coming out. His short black hair was as scruffy as ever, adorned with streaks of gray he insisted wasn’t from age. His eyes, piercing icy blue, looked to the crowd in determination as he lifted his arm up waving to them and a lopsided smirk.

He was extremely muscular wearing his scars littering throughout his chest, neck, and face with pride. As he slung under the ropes of the rings, he gazed at the crowd once more as they cheered—eyes scanning for someone until they settled on their own. His eyes softened and his smirk grew, winking over to you as your heart fluttered.

“Oh my god! He actually noticed me! This is the best day ever!” a girl cheered behind you. You chuckled to yourself fighting the urge to turn around and spoil her fun. No one in the ring would know that look was for you, and you alone.  

You and Wriothesley have been together for a few years now. You were there when he was at rock bottom and you would be there when he finally took the heavens or himself.

“Round one! Fight!”

You knocked on the shabby door, hearing banging from the other side as your heart pumped in your chest in anxiety. Wriothesley had been avoiding your calls all day since he got out of prison and was under probation. 

“Wriothesley! Open the door!” you yelled out. No response came except for the constant sound of smacking. Your hand grabbed on the handle turning it only for the door to crack open. A yelp escaped your lips watching a cockroach scutter across the floor into the hallway from the hallway. Cursing silently to yourself and surprised Wriothesley still didn’t say anything, you closed the door looking over to see the barren studio apartment.

There was hardly anything in the tiny space beside a mattress that was directly on the floor with some blankets thrown across it, a large bean bag chair to the side, and a large punching bag swinging in the middle of the room. The sound of smacking echoed out once more as Wriothesley continued to punch it, still not facing you.

Earbuds were placed in his ears, your sounds must've been drowned out by how loud he was playing his music. You slowly approached him, calling out his name once more as he continued to ignore you. With a sigh, you placed your hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and he turned around. 

He scowled over to you, frowning prominent on his lips. Bags were under his eye, a fresh cut seemed to linger there too. He must’ve got it before getting out of prison. Your eyes softened in pity and Wriothesley took his earbuds out and sighed.

“Are you okay? You’ve been ignoring me for days since you got out,” you murmured. Wriothesley grumbled under his breath and sighed, wiping the sweat clinging to his brow. He must’ve been exercising for a while now.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to always check on me like you did when we were kids. I’m not the little rich kid trying to understand public school anymore…” Wriothesley muttered. You clinged your tongue, rolling your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you’re not, which is why I don’t know why you are acting like a kid and avoiding me. We're friends. You got arrested and kicked out of the police academy, of course I want to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. Shit sucks, understatement of the year, but I want to help you through this,” you replied. He doesn’t respond and looks away, eyes narrowing in shame. Your eyes flickered down to his ankle bracelet, blinking. It will be six months before it’ll come off and he'll be free from it.

“Please can you just…” you sighed, “You don’t need to carry all of this by yourself. I’m not going to abandon you no matter how many times you try to push me out. We are in this together. I promised that to you before and I mean it now.”

Wriothesley remained quiet walking over to his mattress before collapsing on him, the springs creaking loudly as they adjusted to the new weight. 

“Frankly, I’m not sure why you seem so adamant about staying beside me. Why? Do you got a crush on me or something,” Wriothesley murmured, covering his eyes with his hand. There was a pause as you struggled to say anything and simply looked away. Noticing you not saying anything, Wriothesley uncovered his face looking over at you in shock before it softened. A chuckle soon rattled throughout the tiny studio apartment.

“Ah, I guess that explains it then, huh?” he murmured, looking over to his hand covered in sports tape. He flexed his fingers, pondering the words he wanted to say to you as butterflies flew throughout your stomach. Was he going to send you out? Was he going to pretend you didn't say anything?

“...I don’t regret going to jail for what I did. I know what I did wasn’t wrong but naturally bastards with more money than me can get away with it and paint me as the villain to absolve them from their crimes,” he murmured getting up in front of you.

“I’m not going to let that stop me though,” he murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain outside hit the window as Wriothesley chuckled once more.

“London is like this, gloomy, gray with pricks who take advantage of the disadvantaged. This city eats up anyone they can. I don’t plan on being part of the menu. Something good will come out of all this shit…” he murmured. His fingers lifted your chin and a soft smile curled on his once serious expression.

“Besides, I think things are shaping up positively in some ways already. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once his probation period ended, Wriothesley went to the gym often to clear his mind when he wasn’t working at his part-time contracting job. He wanted to join an amateur boxing ring, only for his skills to gain the attention of recruiters looking for more talent in the professional ring.

Signing on to a team and management, Wriothesley quickly flew through opponents. The crowd had deemed him as “Cerberus” for his scruffy yet handsome appearance along with his famous three-punch combo. 

It had been three years since you two started this journey and this match would show if it was worth it. 

“Ooh! The Attainer got a left hook to connect the frazzling crowd favorite! Can the doggie get out of this or will the beat finally get tamed!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, clenching your jaw seeing Wriothesley stagger from that hit. Blood began to dribble from his lip. A flash of anger shot through his eyes as he glowered at Attainer with frustration. As Attainer went for another blow, Wriothesley swiftly dodged to the left. Time for the final round was ticking down quickly, he’d need to make this count if he wanted to win.

Dodging another attack and seeing an opening, Wriothesley quickly rushed his gloved fist forward connecting it to the champion, Attainer. 

“One,” he muttered, drowned out by the deafening noise and muffled from his mouthguard. Seeing the opening swift to try to adjust, Wriothesley refused to let him, connecting another punch in the stomach to his opponent. Attainer gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the blow. 

“Two,” he grunted, dodging another desperate blow from Attainer. With one more opening he saw, Wriothesley went in again connecting his final blow to Attainer’s face.

“Three!” he grunted. Attainer staggered, body fumbling to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The referee sprung from outside the ring, smacking his hand down to the side of the opponent, counting those three numbers. Wriothesley stood to the side, chest gleaming in the stage light from his sweat as the crowd cheered in bewilderment and excitement. 

“TKO!!”

Roars of cheers echoed throughout the stadium. You couldn’t stop grinning, joining in the celebration as Wriothseley lifted his arm up signaling his victory against the champion. Flashes of light flickered off as press and camera from fans, sports journalists, and anyone wanting to gobble every opportunity and second, they could to get this shot. His eyes wandered to yours, smiling wide as you gave a small wave back.

As a camera quickly came into the ring, a microphone shoved in his face to conduct the first interview of the new champion, you slowly got up from your seat and the chaotic cheers of the stadium and headed to his private quarters in the locker room to wait for him. 

Thirty minutes went by before the door flew open and slammed shut as he entered. As soon as his eyes met yours, he walked up to you, arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Wriothesley’s torso, smelling the sweat wafting from him.

“I told you doll,” Wriothesley smirked, as you chuckled once more.

“You did!” you chimed with a wide smile. Wriothesley leaned in close, lips millimeters away from one another.

“And you know what I want more than anything,” he whispered, capturing your lips. His hands settled against your ass, squeezing the soft globes as you gasped, placing your hands on his. He massaged it, tapping it as he finally let your kiss go—a translucent string of saliva connecting your now glossy lips with his.

“W-What?! What if someone sees us? You built your reputation back up just to risk destroying it with a stupid scandal. ‘New champion has a partner caught fucking in the stadium!’ The press will eat us alive,” you stammered out. Wriothesley chuckled lowly, nibbling your earlobe.

“If they give me shit, who cares? It’s my managers who thought it best to keep our relationship a secret. I should get to celebrate how I see fit. They get their win and I get you, everyone’s happy,” Wriothesley whispered, grinding his hardening cock against your leg. You sighed at his response.

“What am I going to do with you,” you muttered. You gasped as Wriothesley smacked his palm down on your ass —the sting of dull pain shooting through your body.

“Fuck me, that’s what.”

Wriothesley brought his lips down to yours once more, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. He takes his shorts off, heavy cock popping up and rolling against his chiseled abdomen. It lulled to the side against his black happy trail, flushed tip already budding with precum as veins pulsated throughout the thick flesh.

You lowered yourself on your knees, grabbing onto his length as he sucked a sharp breath in. You smeared the precum, finger playing with his sensitive tip. You pumped a few times before opening your mouth and taking him into your mouth. The familiar salty taste of sweat and precum hit your tongue as you bobbed your head.

“Aww, giving me a little reward? You shouldn’t have,” he teased, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your tongue swirling along the tip, sucking hard as Wriothesley’s body shuttered and hips slightly faltered. His nails dug into his thick thighs, trying to contain himself as you continued to suck and swirl against him.

“That’s it. Open up a little wider for me lovely,” he murmured, using his other hand to tap at your throat. He used the grip he had on your hair to sink you further down his cock. You fought the urge to gag, but he had trained your throat to fight against the feeling. You soon completely had his entire length down your throat, nose brushing against the thick hair of his bush.

He pulled them away, as an audible pop echoed throughout the small room while you caught your breath. Drool leaked from the side of your mouth, eyes watching as Wriosthelsey continued to jerk at his cock. It twitched in his grasp.

“Open your mouth for me like the good doll you are,” he murmured. You obeyed, opening your mouth wide as a low groan ripped from his lips, tip hovering over it. Globs of cum shot from him, falling on your tongue as you resisted the urge to spit or swallow. His hips shuttered, bucking a few times before he finally began to soften and leaned over wiping some that managed to spill out on the corner of your lips.

“Swallow for me…” he cooed. His smirk widened watching your throat bobbed as you did, trying not to shiver from the taste. 

“So good for me. Get up. I think it’s time for the spotlight to be shared,” he murmured as you got on your feet. His hands gripped your bottoms pulling them down and onto the ground, before your underwear went with it. He haggardly popped a few buttons off from your blouse, showing off a bit of your chest to him. You could feel him beginning to grow against your thigh. 

“Wriothesley!” you yelled out, as he lifted you up. His hardening cock slides against your drooling slit, gathering up the slick clinging onto your cunt. He does this growing harder before he’s finally fully erected once more. Wriothesley hooked his forearm against the back of your knees and leaned against the wall before he sank into the warmth of your cunt—roughly plunging inside of you.

You moan in surprise at the position, your body bouncing from his quick thrusts. Objects hung on the wall bang to his pace as the sound of smacking skin reverberated throughout the locker room. 

He finally put one of your legs down, in the process reaching deeper inside of you as your body jolted in pleasure. With his now free hand, he moved his palm striking your needy clit—the shock of the pain and pleasure caused your walls to flutter down on his cock, as he groaned in delight.

“You like that, I felt just how tight you gripped me just now,” he cooed, nibbling against your neck. His fingers continued to toy with your clit, rubbing tight circles and occasionally smacking his fingers down on it. Your body shivered at the simulation he was giving you, cock brushing against the spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck! Wriothesley. There, there! There!” you babbled out, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

He shifted his position and grip on you, turning you around so your back was to the wall and keeping you up with one hand gripping tightly against your ass. Your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rut against that spot with more precision. His eyes lingered on your chest, admiring the flash of your pebbled nibble that would greet him with every bounce of your body.

His hand grasped your jaw, his blunt nails digging to the sides of it,

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah?” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as you rapidly nodded, tears beginning to cascade down your face. He grunted, feeling your walls cave in making it harder to continue to buck inside of you.

“Show me how good a champion’s cock is then,” he grunted. With more nodding and babbling of his name, your eyes rolled to the back of your head—body arching as you finally reached your high, shivering in pleasure.

Wriothesley pistoning his hips sloppier, let out a low moan of your name before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with your own. His hips faltered, ropes of cum spilling inside of you and filled you to the brim with his essence.

Lifting his head up, he chuckled noticing your fucked-out and tired expression moving your body in his arms before placing you down on the couch. He admired your chest slowly rising from your chest, eye makeup messed up and smeared from your tears.

“Sorry, was that too much for you,” he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He went over and put his shorts on, tucking his softening cock beneath it. You groaned, lolling your head to the side as Wriothesly approached you again. His cum was beginning to leak down your thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from pumping two fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the sensation.

“Don’t worry. Just rest here and we can leave afterward for dinner, if you’re still up for it that is,” Wriothesley murmured. A knock on the door caught his attention as he got up and walked over to the door, cracking it so your form was completely hidden by his stature. He scowled, only for his gaze to turn to shock seeing Clorinde, his manager glare at him. She let out a side, crossing her arms.

“Next time you plan on fucking your partner, please do it when I don’t need something in the locker room, that is not ours I’d like to add, and have to wait elsewhere until you’re done to do so. The papers are on the table, I expect to see them on Friday when you show up for our press briefing,” she grumbled before walking away.

Wriothesley chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My bad, Clorinde…”

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part Two

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

[bloompompom]

Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...

✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 

If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 

“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 

The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 

The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 

The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 

“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 

You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.

He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”

If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 

Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 

The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 

You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 

It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?

Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.

In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.

“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.

Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 

“That’s you, not me.” 

“Only because of you.”

Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.

“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.

Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”

“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.

She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 

Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 

After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 

But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 

He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 

So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 

“Hey.”

Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”

He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 

You bristled. “What do you want?”

He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”

“No, you can’t.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”

You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.

“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 

“Who said anything about olives?”

It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.

You sidestepped him to leave. 

Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”

Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 

“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”

You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 

“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”

On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.

What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 

Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.

Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 

“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 

“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”

The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.

“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”

As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 

“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.

You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.

You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 

The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 

You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 

After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 

Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.

What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 

Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.

Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.

Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 

Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 

Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 

You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.

You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 

Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?

Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 

It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”

You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”

You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.

“Something like that.”

If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 

Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 

“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”

Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 

You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”

You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 

“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”

He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 

You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 

“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”

He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”

You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”

“Still do,” you muttered. 

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 

No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 

A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”

Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.

You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 

The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 

At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 

“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.

When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 

Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 

Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.

You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 

Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 

When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 

He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.

Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 

He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.

His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 

Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 

Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.

You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 

His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 

“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”

Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.

“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.

“You asked.”

You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 

You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 

You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.

The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 

You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 

Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.

A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 

“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 

Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 

He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 

Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.

Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.

Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.

With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 

You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.

“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.

Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.

You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 

Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 

You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 

More. You needed more.

You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 

You grabbed his wrist. 

“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”

A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 

“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”

You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.

You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”

You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.

He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.

“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 

Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.

But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.

“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.

Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 

He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 

He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.

You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 

You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 

Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.

Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.

You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 

You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 

“I can’t hear you.”

He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 

You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 

“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 

You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.

Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.

Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”

The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 

“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”

The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 

Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”

Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.

“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”

“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 

Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.

His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 

If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.

You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.

Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”

“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.

You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”

There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.

“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 

There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”

“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”

You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”

You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.

as always, thank you for reading ♡

[twstowo]

Hi! May I request the basketball club trying to impress you? (Or anyone in a sports club?)

♡︎ Bang~★

♡︎Includes: Ace, Jamil and Floyd

♡︎Warning: None

⋆⋅☆Ace

He invites you to all of his games and swipes the ball to score a point, just so he can catch your eye and wink, he looks so confident all the time but the Seven Forbid he looks at you and you give him that wide smile of yours, jumping up and down with how happy you are with his score. On one occasion, you brought a cardboard sign that read “I love you, Ace,” and you swore he couldn't score a single point the entire match due to how embarrassed he became.

He's precisely the kind of guy who will point directly at you during a game, as if to say, "This one is for you," and then proceeds to execute the most remarkable score, often from an impossible position right in the middle of the field.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

He isn't typically one to show off, but he can't help but catch your gaze fixed on his arms whenever he's in the basketball club attire. While casually drinking water beside you, he might deliberately flex his arms, in front of your face, just to witness your adorable embarrassment.

He's the kind of guy who claims to be indifferent to your presence during their games, yet the entire team notices how he attempts more shots than usual when you're there and how he gazes at the empty seats when you're absent from their matches.

⋆⋅☆Floyd

I can imagine him inviting you to one of the training sessions, and in the midst of it, casually asking if you want to join. Without any warning, he scoops you up, positions you in front of the basket, and encourages you to take a shot. The entire scene turns into a comical spectacle, with the rest of the team bursting into laughter. However, when you successfully score the basket, he joyfully twirls you around in the air, celebrating the moment.

The type to turn extremely competitive if you are watching him play, he becomes so harsh on the other team that they won't ever want to come back to play against them. He scares all the opponents away. Every team member pleads for you not to come over when it's competitive games against other schools, or they will end up having no more opponents.

[strangersteddierthings]

February 2

rating: T cw: period-typical slurs, mild violence prompt: Love is protection

The punch doesn't land. Michael stands frozen before him, arm raised to swing as they both turn towards the shout on instinct.

Eddie watches in slow motion as Steve Harrington sprints down the alley towards them as if summoned from Eddie's fantasies directly, determination on his face. The world returns to its regular speed as Steve reaches them.

Steve takes hold of Michael's arm at the same time Eddie feels himself stagger back several feet from where the new altercation is happening. It's not a conscious decision to put some space between himself and Michael, he's too busy watching Steve use his momentum to make Michael spin with him, or risk getting his arm broken, to think too much about what his body is doing.

Steve lets go of Michael suddenly, which sends him slamming into the wall of the bar Eddie and he had exited just minutes before.

"Come on!" Steve shouts, suddenly in front of Eddie and grabbing him by the wrist, dragging him down the alley until Eddie gets his feet under him and then they're both running. Steve takes a right, and even though Eddie's van is to the left, he follows. He can come back for the van and might actually prefer to. He doesn't want Michael to see what he drives.

They run a few blocks down before ducking into a different alleyway. It's not necessary, this much distance and the hiding. Michael wouldn't give chase. Eddie knew from experience that they rarely do, the men that don't like hearing no.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, immediately assessing Eddie for damage. His shoulder kind of smarts from when Michael shoved him against the wall, there's a dull ache from his scalp where his hair had been yanked at, and he thinks if he takes off his jacket there will be a mark on his upper arm where Michael grabbed him when Eddie changed his mind and tried to leave, but physically that's it. Mentally, though?

Mentally, Steve just rescued him from a man that could be his twin, so that's got to be telling. Well, twin is a bit of a stretch. There were no moles dotting Michael like constellations, no signature hair swoop (though hair length was almost a perfect match), and his butt was far too flat but there's no way to deny he was a stand in for who Eddie actually wanted. Michael was even a jock, given what little Eddie and he had spoken about before heading outside to smoke, or so Eddie had thought.

So, all in all, is Eddie okay? No!

"Yeah. Yeah, fine," Eddie says.

"That guy threw you into the wall."

The adrenaline is fading, and shame replaces it. Why is Steve here? How much of what happened did he witness? "And I'm fine. Thanks for the assist, but what are you even doing here?"

Steve frowns at him. "I was- I just, just was checking in on you. You weren't answering the phone and Dustin was-"

"But how are you here!? How long have you been here?" Eddie interrupts, "how did you know where to find me?"

Steve takes a step back, puts a little distance between them. "I just drove around until I saw your van."

Eddie blinks at him. "You drove around Indy, searching for my van. How- what?"

"Yeah! And lucky I did," Steve says, like the idea of searching all of Indianapolis for one van isn't insane. "That guy was gonna kick your ass if I hadn't shown up!"

"He'd of gotten a few good punches in before I got away," Eddie waves off Steve's concern. "Not my first rodeo, Stevie."

"This happens often? Why do you keep coming back!?"

"Why does the faggot keep going to gay bars? Gee, I don't think we'll ever know, Steve," Eddie sneers, defensive for no reason. He hates that he does thing. That he lashes out at people just concerned for his safety. Steve just threw a guy into a wall for daring to try and punch him, why can't he just be grateful?

Steve scowls, "why're you being a dick to me? What the fuck did I do?"

Eddie lets out a sigh, "Nothing you don't usually do."

Steve throws up his hands and marches in a circle, apparently too frustrated for words and Eddie hates how smitten he is. It's adorable. Steve's anger is cute, and that's the problem. That's why he was at that bar, a gay bar, in the first place. To wallow in his unrequited love and maybe get off with a stranger he could pretend was Steve if he squinted and it was dark.

And now the man he is hopelessly in love with has come and saved him, once again; this time from a man who wanted something Eddie wasn't going to give in an alleyway at 3:30 in the afternoon, who didn't take "no" well, and everything had escalated from there.

"What do you want me to say, Steve? Thank you for protecting me? Thank you for always managing to show up exactly when I need you? If so, thank you!"

"Why does it bother you that I care if you're safe or not!"

"Because it's you!" Eddie screams.

Steve's eyes widen and his lips part in shock, a look that morphs into hurt. "I... see. I- let me walk you back to your van and I'll get outta your hair."

Eddie hates that he's hurt Steve, because he's an asshole that lashes out. He knows that whatever conclusion Steve's come to in his mind is wrong. He knows that Steve is blaming himself, trying to find out where he went wrong but he didn't. Eddie did.

"Not yet. Please. If Michael's still there I don't want him to see what car I get into. Y'know. Just in case." Eddie doesn't say it to get sympathy points, but he watches as Steve softens anyway.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

They wait in silence, and Eddie hates how tense it feels. But he made this bed.

-

Continued with tomorrow's prompt.

@steddielovemonth @nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ mine ❞ - ,, yang jungwon

pairing bf!jungwon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre secret relationship, idol au ୨୧ wc 733 ୨୧ warnings pushy heeseung, jealous and sfw!possessive jungwon req; hii can you write possesive bf jungwon?

. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! more jealous than possesive, sorry !!

you entered the restaurant with niki, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked beside him. they had all invited you to celebrate their latest music show win with a new song over dinner. seeing them triumph made you especially happy, given the nonstop work you had witnessed them put in over the past weeks.

niki gave your back a pat as you split to take your seats at the table. you both were slightly tardy due to traffic, and since niki was your closest friend among them, he had promised to pick you up.

your bond with the group had grown mainly because niki was like a brother to you, and vice versa. you both had met during training days, and unable to resist niki's lost eyes, you took care of him, creating a sibling-like bond. after the boys got into i-land, you decided to give up on being an idol and decided to focus on producing music. 

seated at the table, heeseung was on your right, sunoo on your left, jay in front of you, and jungwon right next to him, offering you a soft smile when your eyes met.

you were about to initiate a conversation with jungwon when heeseung spoke up.

“did you see our performance?” he asked, looking directly at you. you nodded, your mind filled with images of jungwon looking angelic on stage. wanting to clear your mind, you planned on complimenting jungwon later, as you grabbed the menu, your focus shifting to the dishes.

heeseung continued to ask you questions, and although you had nothing against him, he sometimes pushed your limits, especially today.

as the food arrived, you dove in immediately, realizing it was your first meal of the day. it had been a busy day in the studio, and you had forgotten to eat, engrossed in your work.

while some of them took pictures of the food, chatted, or simply enjoyed the meal, heeseung seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

"so, anything changed, y/n? finally found someone?" he asked, once again, earning him an annoyed look from you. heeseung had always been interested in your love life, sometimes dropping hints that he was clearly interested in you.

your relationship with jungwon had to be kept as a secret, simply because it was easier for both of you. being friendly in public was safer, enhypen was getting more popular, obsessed fans or media almost always following them. you didn’t want to start rumors. 

"if you didn't know, i'm here—" heeseung began.

"you're not my type," you cut him off, prompting laughter from the rest of the group. as they teased heeseung, you looked towards jungwon.

a shiver travelled down your spine, jungwon looked scary. a slight furrow between his brows, his eyes piercing through heeseung and mouth slightly open, as if he was in disbelief. 

“c’mon, y/n. stop joking around, you’re just too shy to admit that you have a crush on me,” heeseung bounced back, but not really saving himself from the embarrassment caused by your words and (almost) everyone laughing.

jungwon shifted his gaze to you, waiting for your response. panicking, you'd seen him annoyed with other members before, and being the leader, he had an intimidating presence. but he had never looked at you like that. frozen, chopsticks in hand, holding a piece of meat in the air, you waited for magic to happen to get you out of this situation.

“heeseung, switch your seat with me.” 

jungwon's rough voice made everyone look at him as he stood up. heeseung obeyed, still confused, as it was evident on his face. your boyfriend finally sat next to you, and you felt slightly relieved.

"is our leader jealous?" jake spoke, quickly silenced by jungwon's gaze.

your boyfriend almost forcibly took your hand, interlocking your fingers and resting his elbow on the table for everyone to see. you gasped quietly, looking at jungwon, who didn't spare you a glance, his eyes focused on heeseung.

"we're dating," he declared loudly and firmly. "don't ask them such questions. i don't want to hear that. if you ever make them uncomfortable again, i'll make sure you never see them again."

heeseung nodded, and for a couple of minutes, it was very quiet. everyone focused on their food, the atmosphere heavy and awkward. jungwon placed your interlocked hands on his thigh, holding you tightly for the rest of the evening.

niki broke the silence, asking how you and jungwon started dating, and from there, everyone went back to normal—making jokes, having regular conversations, but mostly poking fun at heeseung and his big ego.

requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[straykeedz]

day 8: i.n. + exhibitionism

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; voyeurism; praising; clit play; nipple play; panties sniffing & cum tasting (if that’s even a thing); fingering (f receiving); unprotected piv sex (don’t do that at home 🤨); a little bit of squirting; creampie;

wc: 2,5k

honestly, this is pure fucking filth lol and also, the first smut for kinktober i wrote 🫣 i wrote this in one sitting back in september, i don’t know what came over me i’m genuinely sorry!!!

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡ ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

⛔︎

“Good girl.” Jeongin praises you, whispering those words in your ear as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, feeling flustered and exposed. “Letting me play with this pussy right in front of my band members…”, he trails, his long fingers brushing over your clothed clit. 

You’re sitting on the couch, your back pressing against Jeongin’s firm chest - he has one arm around your waist to keep you still, to prevent you from squirming too much as he teases you with his fingers. How you ended up being here - in only your tank top and underwear, sprawled on the soft cushions while all of Jeongin’s band mates are witnessing the scene, you don’t remember. 

“You’re so good to me, jagiya.” Jeongin whispers, placing a soft kiss on top of your head as he lands a delicate, playful slap right on your clit - the thin barrier of your panties is the only thing that keeps you from feeling his touch directly on your skin. “Do you like it?”, he asks, and it catches you off guard. 

You nod, letting out a whimper, hoping it would be enough of an answer. It isn’t. 

“I’m gonna need words, jagiya.” Jeongin chuckles. “I asked - do you like it? Do you like having seven men watching you as I’m about to finger this pretty pussy?”, he growls. 

You nod vehemently, gripping his shirt tighter as you whisper a faint “Yes.”

“Mh, what was that?” Jeongin teases. Asshole. “Did you guys hear anything?”, he snaps his head to his bandmates - all of their eyes are set on you, faces red, mouths agape. A couple of them shake their head as a no, the others stay completely still. 

“I didn’t hear anything.” Hyunjin says, boldly. 

“See, jagi? They didn’t hear you.” Jeongin slips his hand, the one that’s not on your pussy, under your tank top, and cups one of your breasts. You let out a shaky breath when he squeezes your nipple between the pads of his fingers. “Speak up.”, he demands. “Speak up or I won’t let you cum tonight.”, he threatens. 

“I do!”, you yelp - your arousal has already soaked your panties entirely by now, a wet patch clearly visible, making a couple of the boys - you don’t know who - whine at the sight. 

“Do what?”, he smirks, drawing circular shapes on your clothed clit. 

“I like being watched by your bandmates while you play with my pussy.”, you whimper.

“Good girl.”, another kiss on your forehead, and you finally feel him hook his fingers under the hem of your panties. 

He begins to slowly pull your underwear down your legs, and you help him by wiggling your ass in order to let him slide them off, leaving you completely exposed to his friends. He brings your panties closer to his nose, sniffing them, and licks his lips once the familiar scent fills his nostrils. For a good couple of seconds, he considers licking your arousal clean from the fabric, but then a better idea pops up in his mind, and he snaps his head up in the direction of his bandmates. 

“Do you want to?”, he asks his friends, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Every single one of his friends looks at him with wide eyes - shocked, and none of them dares to answer, not sure whether it’s a trap or not. “What do you think, baby girl?” Jeongin’s voice vibrates in his chest. “Do you want the boys to sniff you? Sniff your pretty pussy?” 

You nod weakly. The thought embarrasses you, but yes - you want them to. “Yes.”

“My good girl.” Jeongin chuckles, toying with the panties in his hand. “You’re so filthy, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.”, you snap your head up to capture his lips in a kiss. You feel him smirk into the kiss, tongue brushing against your lower lip. He pulls away only to throw your panties at his friends, chuckling once he sees his friends practically fighting for that piece of fabric. 

Chan moans once he gets to sniff your delicious scent, biting on his lower lip. “Do you want to taste her, hyung?” Jeongin catches him off guard. He looks at his younger friend with his eyes open wide. It sounds so dirty, so… forbidden, to taste the arousal of his younger friend’s girlfriend from her underwear. “C’mon, taste how sweet she is.” Jeongin encourages him, as his hand returns to where it previously was - on your pussy, this time no layer separating your skins, and you moan at the contact, a few eyes snapping in your direction. 

Your eyes shift to Chan just as he’s collecting some of your arousal from your underwear with the pads of his fingers, which he then brings to his mouth, getting a taste of you, and you can feel yourself getting even wetter, a whimper escaping your parted lips once Chan hums, shutting his eyes closed. 

“Does it turn you on, jagiya?” Jeongin chuckles, collecting some of your arousal with the tips of his fingers. “Seeing Chan-hyung so whipped after getting a taste of your pretty pussy?”

You nod eagerly. “Turns me on so much.”, you whimper.

You don’t miss the way Chan blushes - the tips of his ears turning red as he shamefully swallows your arousal. “Yah, leave something for us!” Changbin protests as he snatches the piece of fabric from his hyung’s hands. 

“Guys…” Jeongin calls, making all of the boys look at him. “Don’t you think you should thank y/n for being so kind and for letting you sniff and taste her off of her panties?”, he chuckles, teasing his bandmates as his fingers keep circling your clit. 

The seven boys all mutter a thank you y/n under their breath, a few of them red in the face, clearly embarrassed of being exposed like that, but you know Jeongin’s having fun teasing his friends. Your evil boyfriend suddenly decides to unexpectedly shove two of his fingers in your pussy and pinch your nipple with his other fingers, which results in you letting out an obscene moan that draws the attention of the boys on you - mouths agape and big doe eyes now focused on you, not even paying attention to the piece of fabric that’s now in Felix’s hands. 

“Good girl, moaning for me…” Jeongin praises you, massaging your breasts. “Letting me know how good I make you feel.”, he bents his fingers inside of you, the pads brushing against your g-spot, making you arch your back as you let out an incoherent series of whimpers. 

“Oh, my God.”, you can hear Changbin whine, incapable of tearing his eyes off of you, palming his hard-on over his sweats - all of them are, to be fair. 

“She seems to like that.” Seungmin points out when you let out another moan, biting on his lower lip - sliding one hand inside his pants to touch himself. It’s kind of hot knowing that it’s because of you that they’re all so eager and desperate. 

“Oh, she loves it.” Jeongin confirms, the palm of his hand laying flat on your clit - he knows how desperate you can get if he doesn’t play with it directly, but at the same time he really loves seeing you squirm. 

“She takes fingers so well…” Minho says, eyes right where Jeongin’s fingers enter your pussy, soaking them in your wetness. 

A series of hums of approval follows Minho’s statement, Chan licks his lips at the squelching sound of Jeongin’s fingers moving inside of you. “Does she take cock that well, too?”, the oldest blurts out before he can stop himself. 

Jeongin looks his hyung in the eyes, then smirks. “Wanna find out?”, he asks, catching you and his bandmates completely off-guard. Then, he asks you: “What do you say, jagiya?”, he places a wet kiss on your neck. “Wanna let the boys see how beautiful you look with a fat cock stuffed inside of you?”

Those words - combined with Jeongin’s fingers gently scraping your sweet spot - almost make you cum on the spot, so you nod. “Yes.”, you whimper. 

Jeongin lets out a satisfied chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine, removing his hand from under your top. “Then lift those beautiful hips up.”, he requests, and you think he’s going to retrieve his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t. They stay exactly where they are - stuffed inside your pussy, as you hear him fidget with the hem of his sweats, pulling them down so that his cock can spring free, landing on his abdomen with a loud slap. 

“Good girl, now sit on my cock.” Jeongin demands, and you feel his fingers slip out of your hole - you whine at the loss, feeling empty. He brings his fingers, coated in your arousal, on his cock - lubing the tip with your juices so that it won’t burn when he puts it inside. 

You do as he asked, positioning yourself right on his length, back facing him - he wants the guys to stare at you and he wants you to look at them as he makes you cum on his cock. 

“Spread those legs wide, jagi, we want them to see, remember?” Jeongin instructs. 

You don’t miss the way the guys groan when you finally start sinking onto their friend’s length, the tip of his cock parting your folds so beautifully, then filling you up to the brim, back pressed against Jeongin’s chest. You’re trying your best not to moan as well, but a couple of whimpers fall from your lips nonetheless as he fills you up so good - he does every time. 

“That’s it.” Jeongin presses a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. “Good girl, spreading her legs wide as she sits on my cock, letting seven men watch how I split this pretty pussy open with my cock.”, one of his hands reaches the hem of your top, beginning to pull it up to free your breasts - exposing your naked boobs to the rest of the guys. 

“Now fuck yourself on my cock, love.” Jeongin instructs, pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. “Show them how much of a good girl you are.”, he growls in your ear. 

You do exactly as he said, lifting your hips and then sinking back onto his length - slowly at first, then a bit faster when Jeongin asks you to. He has one arm around your waist to keep you in place and help you with your movements, making sure his cock wouldn’t accidentally slip out every time you lift your hips. 

“So, Chan-hyung, what do you say?” Jeongin directs the question to his older friend, voice a bit shaky. “Does she take cock well?”, he smirks. 

Now at least half of the guys have their hand slipped under the waistband of their pants and are stroking themselves as they watch their youngest friend fuck his girlfriend on their couch - a sight none of them will ever be able to forget. 

“So well.” Chan whines, stroking his own cock, his veiny hand disappearing into his underwear, fingers wrapped around the thick base of his length - eyes on you. Each of them has their eyes on you - whether it’s your boobs, your swollen pussy or your fucked out expression, none of them is able to tear their eyes off of you. 

“As good as you imagined?”

“Better.” Chan shamefully answers. 

The thrill of doing something so dirty, unconventional and somehow forbidden has your orgasm build up faster than you expected, and you can already feel the familiar know in your stomach. Jeongin too can feel you’re close by the way your walls are squeezing him so tight he almost can’t move inside of you. 

“Is my jagiya close already?”, he teases, and you can feel his fingers gently brushing against the skin of one of your thighs, closer and closer to where you need him. “Does my jagiya want to cum?”

“Yes, please.”, you beg - cheeks heating up as your toes begin to curl. 

He places two fingers directly on your clit, making sure to coat them in your arousal before actually touching you - you absolutely love how attentive he is towards you, even outside the bedroom. He starts moving his fingers in a circular motion, placing a series of soft kisses on your bare shoulders at the same time. 

You clench even harder, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re about to cum, jagiya?”, he pants, feeling his own orgasm starting to build up as well. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let the boys see how hot you look when you cum for me?”, he moves his finger faster, cock hitting your g-spot just right, and it’s like he wants you to -

“Then cum.”, he growls in your ear.

As soon as those words fall from his lips, you find yourself releasing much harder than you thought - some of your release spilling out of you, coating both Jeongin’s thighs, some of it landing on the cushions, but none of the boys gives a fuck about it. 

“Oh, God.”, you hear Jisung whine, eyes open wide and mouth agape - the movements of his hand come to an abrupt halt, and soon after you notice a darker patch on his grey sweats, right above his crotch. You giggle in realization that you made him cum in his pants - poor boy wasn’t even touching himself. “She can squirt?”, he asks Jeongin, still shocked by the sight he just witnessed. 

You hear Jeongin chuckle from behind you, removing his fingers from your clit not to overstimulate you, tho he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you, desperate to reach his high as well. You can feel he’s about to shoot his load, so you decide to send him over the edge. 

“Cum, baby.”, you whine, turning your head so that your lips are now brushing against his. “Don’t you want your friends to see how good you fill me up?”, you purr, smirking when you see him shut his eyes closed, suddenly on the verge of his own orgasm. “Don’t you want them to see your cum drip out of my pussy?”

That does it for him. With a hoarse grunt, he empties himself inside of you, hot spurts of his seed shooting deep inside your hole as he slows down his thrusts, panting heavily - a few drops of his cum already leaking from your pussy and dripping onto his length. He rests his forehead against the nape of your neck - black hair stuck on his sweaty skin, legs still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He places a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, holding you tight as he carefully removes his softening cock from inside of you - allowing his friends to witness the mess he made, cum leaking all over his thighs and the couch cushions, but none of them seems to mind, too focused on seeing how your pussy pushes the rest of his cum out. 

Jeongin snaps his head in the direction of his friends, smirking as he places a soft, heartfelt kiss on your cheek. 

“I really hit the jackpot with her, didn’t I?”

⛔︎

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

-> don't forget to reblog to support me if you enjoyed reading my works and to let me know your thoughts, i love reading your feedbacks! ♡

[zanarkandskylines]

Behind Closed Doors

『♡』  fem!reader  x bakudeku ╰➤ ꒰ lovers (bf/gf) | aged to 21 ꒱

♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist | izuku midoriya masterlist ♡

summary: reader comes home to a surprise when she finds bakugo and midoriya making out in their bedroom. tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - dirty talk, praise, threesome, oral (f!give/receive), fingering, facial, creampie | porn-with-plot, lovers (bf/gf), friends to lovers (bf/gf/bf) a/n: who knew a kiss could kickstart a whole new experience?? ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,057꒱

The lock on the door clicks open to your shared apartment with Katsuki as you shuffle inside.

“Hey babe, I’m home!” You call as you close the door, but don’t receive a response.

“Kats?” You can smell the aroma of the dinner he prepared as it floats throughout the apartment, but there's nothing in the kitchen.

You waltz into the living room and it’s empty, the TV off and no sign of your boyfriend. Wandering down the hall, you push the door open to the bedroom to a sight you didn’t expect.

Katsuki and Izuku are bare chested in your bed, intertwined as their tongues visibly swiped into each other’s mouths. They hadn’t noticed you and for sure didn’t hear you come in the door.

You decide to lean against the doorframe, completely visible to them if they were to glance your way, but they’re too oblivious in their heated make out to notice.

You won’t lie, this is hot as fuck. Seeing your boyfriend devouring his best friend with such fervor was sending waves of heat to your center as you bit your lip.

Well, it had to come to an end eventually.

“Hey boys.”

The two of them rocket apart, scrambling to the opposite ends of the bed as they’re still panting with swollen lips.

“H-hey baby,” Katsuki says anxiously. “Didn’t hear ya come in.”

“H-hi y/n,” Izuku chirps as he fiddles with his fingers.

Silence fills the room, both of them nervously anticipating your reaction as you uncross your arms and push yourself off doorframe.

You can’t help but laugh, their terrified faces melting into confusion.

“Kat, baby, we talked about this,” you hum, making your way over to the bed. His neck and face are speckled with patches of a pink flush as his brow furrows.

“I told you to wait for me if you decided to ask him.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Izuku asked, his interest peaked.

You turn to face Izuku, crawling onto the bed between them.

“Guessing he didn’t ask you directly. If you’re open to it, Izuku, we’d like to have you be our third.”

“T-third?” He questions, his face turning every shade of red.

“Meanin’ we wanna fuck you, nerd,” Katsuki quips, getting straight to the point, a grin plastered on his lips.

You expected Izuku to be flustered beyond belief over Katsuki’s directness. Before you knew it, Izuku was crawling over you and back into Katsuki's lap.

───

“Ah! F-fuck,” you moan as Katsuki’s two fingers deep into your aching center, your arousal coating his fingers as he’s slipping in and out of you at a steady pace. He dives in to steal your lips in a sloppy kiss as you’re squirming under him, ecstasy creeping through your body as you ride the waves of white-hot pleasure.

Izuku watches your bodies move in tandem, a magnetic force between the two of you as he lazily paws at his growing hard on. He can’t take his eyes off how your tits bounce along with Katsuki’s thrusts as he finger-fucks you. The way he kisses you, how his bicep flexes with each movement, your muffled whines and how the intensity of his lust melts into your body - it’s magical to witness. Izuku barely watched porn, let alone two of his closest friends fuck in front of him. It was a whole new sensation and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Katsuki breaks your kiss and lowers himself to your ear, his tone dripping with desire.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. Come for me, baby.”

He curls his fingers against your walls, a mewl escaping your puffy lips as the hot and searing pressure that’s been building inside you comes crashing down. Your soaked cunt clenched around his fingers as you release, coating the rest of his hand and your inner thighs with your spend as his last few gestures audibly squish inside you.

"Mm, good girl," Katsuki sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck lovingly.

He plants wet kisses on your forehead, cheek, neck and collarbone before biting playfully at your nipple, a soft groan escaping you as you let your head fall in Izuku’s direction.

“Do you wanna touch me, Izuku?” You purr, eyes half-lidded from your orgasm a moment ago. Katsuki’s eyes dart to Izuku’s, lit with a fiery gleam, daring him to say ‘yes.’

"Yes!" Izuku squeaks, removing his hands from his lap and crawling toward you.

“C’mere,” Katsuki orders, grabbing Izuku and pushing him on his back. He grabs your wrists, pulling you to sit up as he shifts to the other side of Izuku’s body.

“Go ahead sweetheart, get on.”

“You okay with that?” You pat Izuku’s chest to sooth his nerves.

His voice is barely a whisper as he nods eagerly. “Y-yeah.”

You straddle Izuku’s face gracefully as Katsuki cups your breasts in his feverish palms. He scoffs as he looks down at your legs, removing his hands from your chest.

“Grab her ass or hold her thighs, idiot,” he scolds, placing Izuku’s hands on the outside of your thighs. “Y’better not disappoint her.”

Katsuki then moves behind you, straddling over Izuku’s chest as he rolls his fingers over your taut nipples. The texture of his calloused finger pads enhances the sensation running through every nerve in your body, arching your back into him while simultaneously riding Izuku’s face with vigor.

”You have such perfect tits, baby…I can’t get enough of ‘em,” Katsuki growls as he pushes his chest into your shoulders, teasingly tracing your hip with his twitching cock as he gropes you from behind.

Izuku is exploring every inch of your sticky center with his tongue, lazily collecting all of your previous arousal while occasionally sucking on your clit with a soft pop of his lips. His hands roam freely as Katsuki commanded him to, rotating between the plush of your ass and gripping onto your thighs.

“S-shit, ah…hah,” you try to speak, but your moans keep swallowing your words. “F-fuck, this i-is incredib-ah-le.”

“Try not drown him, sweets,” Katsuki teases, tongue traveling from behind your ear to your collarbone before he sinks his teeth into your supple flesh. You rock your hips forward violently from the bite, eliciting a groan from Izuku from below. The vibrations are sent right into your core, pulling on the tight thread that’s ready to snap in your belly for a second time.

Your hands frantically shoot in opposite directions, fisting a ball of hair down to the roots on each of them. You tugged down on Katsuki’s locks as you tilt back into his chest and pulled forward on Izuku’s to deepen his tongue in your sweltering center. Both of them grunt in tandem, coaxing you rapidly toward your climax.

"Kat-Izu-fff-fuck!" your brain stutters on who's name to whine as it's short circuiting from pleasure.

Colors start to flash behind your eyes as your second release spills out of you at full force, covering Izuku’s lips and jaw in a glistening display of affection. He gasps when your saturated lips lift away from his mouth, a string of saliva and slick connecting the two of you. His pants are hot against your mound as you stare down at him between your legs, slack jawed and attempting catching your breath.

With no hesitation, Katsuki grabs you by the hips and slides you down between Izuku’s thighs. As he lifts you, he glides your slit teasingly over Izuku’s shaft on the way down. He whimpers as a sticky trail is left behind, leaving a sheen of your cum along his cock.

”Slide up,” Katsuki huffs in Izuku's direction as he’s pushing you over between them, ass in the air.

You know where this is going.

Katsuki situates himself behind you, aligning his cock with your dripping entrance. Even as drenched as you were, you could still feel the slickness of the pre-spend dribbling from him as he swiped the tip through your folds. He laughs, euphoric with how wet you were for him.

“I wanna see ya work that magic fuckin’ tongue of yours all over Izuku’s dick while I fuck your pretty cunt,” Katsuki snarls, his grip on your hips tightening in anticipation.

His crimson stare settles with Izuku’s emerald gaze.

All Izuku can do in response is nod, the words dying in his throat as he yelps at the contact of your tongue running over his slit, catching all of his pre-spend in one go. He watches as you continue to work up and down his whole shaft, flicking your eyes up at him every chance you get. He’s twitching like mad against your lips, analyzing every sinful movement of your tongue and hot breath against his skin.

“Hah, exactly like that, baby,” Katsuki murmurs as he slams to the hilt into you, jolting you forward and bouncing Izuku’s cock off your cheek. The sudden fullness has you cry out in bliss, begging for friction as you rock back in to him.

"F-fuck, you're so fuckin'....ti-ah-ght," he moans, slurring his words as he's snapping his hips into you at a tantalizing tempo. He keeps mumbling but all you can make out are a few colorful curses and your name, his fingers indented in your hips as he watches his cock disappear into your weeping cunt repeatedly. You know Katsuki's not gonna last much longer by his pacing, and honestly? Neither will you, drunk on the heat-ridden spell he's cast upon you.

Izuku's breath is labored, his chest heaving as his thighs tremble when you begin to take him into your mouth - sucking to the rhythm of Katsuki's thrusts as he pumps in and out of you from behind. You hum with delight around Izuku's shaft with each jerk of Katsuki's hips, his entire body ablaze as he approached his breaking point.

"Hah, fff-y/n...I'm!" Izuku moans as he clumsily grabs a section of your hair, pulling you off as he spurts hot ropes of cum - haphazardly splattering across your cheeks, mouth and neck.

Like a chain reaction, Izuku's surprise facial mixed with Katsuki's cock repeatedly kissing your cervix sends you into delirium, your walls constricting around him as your eyes screw shut, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth. The thread in your core pulls taut, threatening to snap at any moment as incoherent noises are falling from your pursed lips.

"Fu-fuck Katsuki!" you scream, panting out his name again and again as you unravel beneath him, your orgasm wildly wracking your body.

"Shit-sh-oh fuck!" Katsuki hisses through gritted teeth as your abdomen floods with warmth, his seed seeping out of you and down your thighs as he rides out his release, a squelch with every additional thrust. Breathless, he pulls out of you and sits back on his knees. You can't help but sway, falling onto the bed lifelessly.

“Fuck, baby. You’re a mess,” he chuckles, a smile settling on his lips as he drinks in the sight of your wrecked body. Seeing your face covered in Izuku’s spend mixed with his own leaking out of your pulsing center is enough to get him hard again.

"Hah, sorry y/n, that wasn't my intention," Izuku says, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"'S fine...Kat does it to me all the time," you joke to the best of your ability, struggling to find energy to even move.

Katsuki leaves the room for a moment, returning with a warm wash cloth. He delicately wipes away all of the sticky messes on your body, tossing the cloth into the laundry basket in your bedroom. He climbs back onto the bed, snatching you into an embrace against him.

"Y'doin' okay, sweets?" Katsuki asked, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"Mm, mhm," you mutter, closing your eyes as you snuggle into his chest.

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, Kats," you trail off as you begin to drift off into a slumber.

Katsuki glances over to Izuku, grinning from ear to ear.

"Get your ass over here, I've got two arms."

Izuku's face flushes before scooting over to Katsuki, placing a tender kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Kacchan."

Katsuki turned Izuku's chin up toward him, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. "Yeah yeah."

couldn't stop thinking about bakugo talking with reader about potentially having a threesome, getting too flustered asking midoriya and just ending up making out with him instead. he's not good with words hehe

Divider by : @/saradika

[romanceyourdemons]

here’s a second century warlord followup (3.2k words)

By Strategem, Huang Mi Turns Aside an Army of 100,000

Huang Mi cut down the hill to the south of the city and realized four feet down how poor an idea that was. The hill, steep enough that he had to descend in zigzags, had seized into a stone-hard lump with November frost, and the glazing of snow spread across the unyielding dirt denied his shoes any purchase at all. He managed to slide directly down for several feet, his knees bent and his skirts hitched to his knees in an already unsuccessful attempt to keep them free from winter muck, but his right foot caught on a stone, turning his controlled glide into an unplanned splits and then into a reeling, careening half-tumble down the rest of the hill. He was glad the blank south wall of the city was the only thing bearing witness to his humiliation. He was less glad when a man caught him, and less glad still when he recognized the man as the one he least wanted to be embarrassed in front of. “Lord Yue,” he said, bowing before his liege to keep his flushing face angled toward the snow. He would have much preferred breaking an arm against a tree.

“Yuzhi,” said Lord Yue, helping Huang Mi up. “You’re hurt?”

Huang Mi shook his head. 

Lord Yue wrapped his scarf around Huang Mi’s shoulders and neck. “You’re cold, then. Where’s your horse?”

“Still up there. I couldn’t figure out how to get it down the hill.”

“You just take that footpath around.”

“Oh.” Huang Mi turned to make the long trek up to where he had left his horse tied to a branch, but Lord Yue took his arm and turned him back.

“I’ll send someone up to get it. Let’s get inside first and discuss.”

Huang Mi barely remembered to give Lord Yue back his scarf before they entered the room where General Chou, General Wu, and Governor Han waited to hear the results of Huang Mi’s expedition to the army camped thirty li to the south of the city. That army should be the only thing on their minds. Huang Mi would have gladly kept Lord Yue’s scarf and maybe slept holding it, but he could not allow anyone in that room suspect that his feelings for his liege were anything other than appropriate loyalty. That he could not let Lord Yue know went without saying: he had great trust in Huang Mi as his advisor, and anything that damaged that trust put their entire army at risk. Neither General Chou nor General Wu particularly appreciated Huang Mi’s quick elevation in the six months since he swore loyalty to Lord Yue. They were brilliant warriors and valuable generals, General Chou highly capable in frontal attack and General Wu with a skill for ambush, and between the two of them Huang Mi did not doubt they could take care of him cleanly enough. And of course he could not let Governor Han know: she was Lord Yue’s wife. He tried to make himself look presentable as he sat to deliver his report.

“The army is a hundred thousand strong. They are trying to reach Lord Liu within the week, and they are demanding two-thirds of our grain.”

Governor Han interrupted incredulously: “They expect us to survive off a third of our stores?” Between the citizens, the army, and the four households of refugees they had accepted earlier that month, it would be difficult to make their grain last the winter as it was.

“They were very specific. They claim they will accept the gift of two-thirds of our grain, or they will sack the city and take all of it.”

“I certainly hope you didn’t take them up on that.”

“I told them they should save their efforts. We’ll burn the grain before letting it fall into their hands.”

Lord Yue nodded proudly, the way he nodded proudly at everything Huang Mi said. He had too much faith in Huang Mi. The generals had just the right amount of faith and muttered bitterly between themselves. In fact, Huang Mi had not intended to make such a bold statement at all. His plan had been to stall and make a break for home as soon as possible, but his “there’s no need” had turned into a fierce statement of opposition before he fully planned the sentence. He wished Lord Yue didn’t trust him so much. He really wasn’t much of an advisor at all. 

“I hope you have some kind of brilliant plan, Advisor Huang,” said General Wu. He articulated the title with acid precision, and, even though Huang Mi did not particularly mind having lost the command he once held, he knew a barb when he saw one. He smiled, though, and assured the generals that the situation was under control, and Lord Yue suggested they have some supper first, if Yuzhi’s plan could allow for such a delay. Huang Mi’s plan certainly could: it did not exist yet. He wished Lord Yue wasn’t so good to him. He wished he could tell Lord Yue that he was as good as he claimed.

Governor Han drew Huang Mi aside as the group broke to prepare for supper. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”

Huang Mi went very still, like a cornered deer. Governor Han had been Lady Han until the city’s erstwhile governor became bedridden with a sudden illness in September and asked Lord Yue to manage civil affairs until he recovered. Lord Yue had no training managing civil affairs, but his wife did, and she had filled the post flawlessly. The title “Governor” had originated as one of the generals’ low blows, but Governor Han not only allowed but preferred it. Her skill in governing certainly merited it. She and Lord Yue, Huang Mi had pieced together from confessions and rumors, had been espoused in an effort to prevent the war that broke out between their fathers and killed them both regardless. Proper spousal affection had never developed between the two, not even when she traveled to the front to be with her husband after he suffered a grave injury, and especially not when, more than eight months later, she was still unable to return home. She preferred to speak to him as Governor Han and Lord Yue, rather than as his undesired wife and her undesired husband. Huang Mi did not understand how she could not love Lord Yue—after the many long nights he had spent with Lord Yue playing chess and discussing schools of strategy, he had determined that there was no one in this world better, kinder, braver, more intelligent, or more gorgeous than his sworn liege lord—but that was Huang Mi’s own problem, not Governor Han’s. For now, Governor Han’s problem was Huang Mi. “You don’t have a plan,” she said efficiently. “Tell me what you think your plan should be.” 

Like a whirling leaf catching on any tree in its path, Huang Mi’s whirling mind caught on anything that looked like a plan. “General Chou can pin them against the bend in the river, and then General—”

“River’s frozen. Won’t work.”

“General Chou can lead them into Hawthorn Pass, then a contingent led by General Wu can burn—”

“Everything’s wet. Won’t work.”

“General Chou can guar—” Huang Mi noticed Lord Yue approaching and quickly changed his tone. “General Chou will divide his men to guard the north, west, and east gates, making as much a show of force as he can. A hundred archers will hide out of sight on the south wall, and, after dark, we will boil snow on a bonfire inside the walls. The enemy will see this and think that we are burning our grain, and that we are relying on the protection of the hill to defend us on the south side. They are desperate for grain, and will pour down the hill into the pits full of sharpened sticks that we have dug. The archers will also shoot them down, and General Wu will have led his men around behind his camp by way of Hawthorn Pass to rout them from there.” 

Lord Yue smiled, apparently completely satisfied with this made-up plan, but Governor Han frowned. “Why will they go directly down the hill when there’s a footpath?”

“We’ll block it with boulders. I got a look around the enemy’s camp—they’re eating every third day. They won’t be too careful.”

“And do you really think we can have your pits dug by nightfall?” Her skepticism seemed softened, but it was certainly far from appeased.

“If Governor Han will let us requisition wagons from the city to transport the earth away, I am sure we can manage it.”

“Excellent,” Lord Yue said. “I’ll inform the generals, and we’ll get to work.”

If the generals received Huang Mi’s plan with their usual sidelong remarks, Huang Mi did not hear them. They began work, and they worked as evening bled scarlet over the cloudy skies, and it was not until twilight grey muddied the sunset that Governor Han pulled Huang Mi away from Lord Yue once again. “It’s not going to work,” she said. “The ground is too hard.”

She was right, of course. Even with pickaxes the work was too slow. Huang Mi sought refuge from the obvious in ill-advised bravado: “If we had my hometown men here, the pit would already be ten spans deep.” He missed his men. He had not been a good commander to them, and he was glad that they were safely in the service of the shrewd and competent lord they had intended to swear loyalty to from the start, but there were times when he felt very, very alone in Lord Yue’s camp, and there were times when he lay awake at night to worry about the inevitable day when he would have to strategize for the man he loved against the men he loved. If he cared for Lord Yue less, he would be able to forget his lord. If he cared for Lord Yue more, he would be able to forget his men. He knew he would never forget his hometown, cradled by soft green mountains where immortals liked to hide and full like a cup with the scent of plum blossoms. He knew that he would likely never see his hometown again. He would likely never see a springtime again. It would have been better for everyone if he had never laid eyes on Lord Yue.

“This stops now.”

“What?”

Governor Han crossed her arms. “Advisor Huang, listen to me. When I was young, I was in love with my tutor. I might still be. I’d have to see him again to know for sure. I wanted him to admire me, so I would say just anything in answer to his questions. And he was just as infatuated with me as I was with him, so he would accept my wrong answers. My father heard me give a completely incorrect recitation, and he said that to me: ‘This stops now. You can marry your tutor and I’ll get you a new one, or you can get yourself out of love with him and continue your studies.’ That’s what I’m telling you now. Get yourself out of love with Lord Yue or get yourself into something real with him, but this—” An eloquent flick of a fingertip summed up Huang Mi’s past six months of agony. “This stops now.”

Huang Mi wanted to say something to stall, but he could not come up with even the most meaningless of platitudes.

“I don’t mind and he won’t mind,” Governor Han continued mercifully. “He doesn’t mind my lover. I think he minds that you’re not already his. I only care that, short of some flash of genius from your famous mind, my city is going to be ruined by morning. Make your decision.”

“I…” This decision was too big to make. This decision was more daunting than the army a hundred thousand strong camped beyond the hill. “I need some time,” he said, leaving Governor Han before she had a chance to call him back and struggling directly up the hill, relishing the sting of cold and bark tearing at his hands as he pulled himself up by roots and stones. He balanced himself on the ridge, windmilling his arms to keep himself from falling backwards as he shuffled to a more sure footing and turned around. Through the gloom and heavy flakes of snow, the archers on the south wall could not be discerned at all. That was good. The line of trees and brush at the bottom of the hill broke up the shape of the pit and made it difficult to identify from this height. That was good. But the pit was hardly a forearm’s length deep, and the twilight was already tightening into dusk. They did not have time. He squatted and contemplated falling onto his side as he watched snow gather on their two dozen wagons of dirt. This snow fell so heavily, so fast. Already some of the wagons looked like they were filled not with frozen soil but with—

Huang Mi bolted to his feet quickly enough to make his cold knees ache and began pelting directly down the hill with violent abandon. He did not care what it cost. He needed to get to his lord as soon as legs would take him. Running calculations on the fingers of one hand as he poured himself over the uneven snowy ground lost him his balance, and he traveled the rest of the hill on his stomach and face, but he had his answer as Lord Yue helped him up a dozen yards from the hill’s base and half-carried him to even ground. “Tarps,” Huang Mi said. “Governor Han, we need tarps! We need to act quickly, my lord. Have the men shovel snow onto the wagons, enough to cover all the dirt. Full to heaping. Then have them cover the wagons with the tarps, but tack them down carelessly—leave snow showing. General Wu will lead the wagons by the high road through Hawthorn Pass. Two torches in front, no other lights. Then he’ll dump the wagons—” A dark look from Governor Han made Huang Mi hastily amend his plan— “the wagons’ contents into the gorge, extinguish his torches, and return as quickly and stealthily to the city as possible, keeping off the main road and hiding the wagons in woods for safekeeping.”

“Is that all your plan?” asked General Wu. He wanted to pick a fight, but Huang Mi did not have time.

“Three more things,” he said shortly. “General Chou will rearrange his men to guard this gate as well, and Lord Yue will prepare a force to attack the camp once General Wu informs us of the completion of his task, and if General Wu loses a single man before sunrise then on sunrise he may personally kill me any way he wishes.”

Lord Yue made a sound of acute concern, and Huang Mi certainly did not enjoy having to put his neck on the line to make his word good, but it was almost dark and there was no time to bandy words. He smiled at Lord Yue and shook his head, and Lord Yue sighed. “Do what Yuzhi says,” he said, “or the consequences will be the same as if you had disobeyed me.” General Wu pressed his lips together to smother his mouthful of words and bowed to accept the instructions; Governor Han raised her eyebrows expectantly at Huang Mi and permitted his reassuring look; and Huang Mi’s new plan ground into action, shovelful by shovelful. 

“My lord,” Huang Mi said on their return to the city, once he and Lord Yue were safely alone between four walls. He had an ultimatum to meet. It frightened him more than rebuffing the ultimatum of the enemy, but Governor Han had been right. This had to end now.

“How many times will I have to ask you to call me Ziyi?”

“My lord, this may be the last plan I make for you.”

Lord Yue shook his head emphatically. “I won’t let General Wu hurt you, Yuzhi. I won’t even let him scratch you.”

Huang Mi’s heartbeat pushed and tugged at his fingertips, hidden inside his sleeves. He resisted the urge to chew his knuckle. “It’s not that. It’s…” Any words he might have followed these eluded him, so he tried again: “I wouldn’t mind dying, either, if I—could kiss you first.” The sentence stung the air. He had preferred his cowardice. He finished his confession as lamely as he had begun: “And I am afraid that makes me an unfit advisor.”

“I’m not.”

Lord Yue let silence spool out after these words for so long that Huang Mi began to wonder what they meant.

“I won’t lose you, Yuzhi,” Lord Yue said. In the firelight his eyes looked more green than gold, and his hands already enclosed Huang Mi’s cold hands as he spoke. “Not as an advisor, not as a lover. You’re the only one I really trust.”

“The generals say I’m a rabbit trying to lead a pack of wolves.” Huang Mi wanted to bolt.

Lord Yue smiled, a smile that suggested the generals were going to receive a lecture soon. “A rabbit, perhaps, but a rabbit with the instincts of a tiger and the good fortune of a phoenix—and the looks of a very handsome man. I’ll even kiss you if you call me Ziyi.”

Huang Mi felt light-headed. This was not something that was supposed to happen. This was something he had wanted to happen for—for his whole life, it seemed to him now, but it was not something that was supposed to happen. He made himself nod. He made himself ignore his racing heart and say, “Okay… my lord.” He did not realize his error until Ziyi began to laugh, and then he smiled too and corrected himself—“Ziyi, Ziyi, Ziyi”—until Ziyi’s lips got in the way of his voice. 

General Wu returned before long, his men still unharmed, and Ziyi took reluctant leave of Huang Mi to lead his crack troops to the deserted field of melted snow where the enemy had recently been. The enemy, mistaking the ill-lit wagons of snow for all the city’s grain, had followed General Wu to the gorge, where they had seen the destruction, it seemed, of the grain they so desperately needed. Caught between the options of finding a way to the bottom of the gorge to salvage what had not been washed away by the river and crossing the bridge to the next stronghold, already distantly visible, they chose to break camp and move on. 

When Ziyi saw Huang Mi again, he picked him up and twirled him around; when the generals saw Huang Mi again, they grudgingly nodded respect. When Governor Han saw Huang Mi again, she congratulated him and told him that she wanted every borrowed wagon returned undamaged by the end of the next day. General Wu had hell to pay when he could not find one of the wagons again. But that was not a problem Huang Mi had to solve. For seven days and seven nights, Ziyi never once let him feel cold.

[evieskiesss]

PSYCHO KILLER- TOM KAULITZ

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮, 𝙜𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜

a/n: HAPPY MF HALLOWEEN SLUTS. I HOPE YALL LIKE THISSSS

-

"have you heard?" Lana asked in a whispered tone. You turned to her, eyebrows furrowed, "heard what?"

She jerked her head toward the crowd of people in the hallway. "Otto from math class was found dead yesterday." Your head whipped toward her, your jaw dropping. You slowly walked further into the school hall, people crowded in front of a locker.

Piles of flowers, letters and writings, all surrounded by the photo of Otto. Your heart sank, you stood in front of the locker as you got a clear view.

You weren't close friends with Otto, you two only occasionally spoke during your math class, especially since he sat directly next to you. "shit... i spoke to him yesterday.."

Lana raised her eyebrows, a slightly sorry expression on her face. The small interaction between you two from yesterday played in your mind. You bit your lip, staring at the photo of him. His pearly smile showing, the small chip in his teeth evident. It was from a small accident he had when he was little.

The bell rang, indicating the next class had started. "shit," Lana cursed under her breath. She grabbed your wrist, pulling you along, "let's go!" You silently ignored her, your eyes not leaving the boy's image as she pulled you away.

You both silently entered your math class, sneaking your way into your seat, setting your bag down. You look over to the seat next to yours, it was empty. You bit your lip again, fingers gently reaching over to his empty spot.

Your fingers grazed his small doodles on the table, suddenly, a hard smack of a book bag on the table startled you. Your body jumped in its seat, your arm retracting itself immediately. A laugh came from above you, you looked up to see the familiar boy.

Tom snickered, now taking his bag off the table as he plopped himself into the ,what used to be, empty seat. "scared ya?" he smiled, his black piercing perfectly adorning his lip.

You chuckled, hand on your chest as your heart beat out of your chest, "yeah," you breathed out with a flat smile. "you've been really easy to scare lately," he smiled cockily, adjusting himself in his seat.

     "yeah.. i guess it's just with what's going on lately," you chuckled nervously, looking down at your hands. You shook your head, "i don't know who could even do something like that.. you gotta be some type of... psycho killer to do that."

    His head whipped towards you, staring. His tongue poked through his cheek, "psycho killer?"

You turned to him, nodding. "yes. you've got to be some type of insane to do that.."

Tom stayed silent, his tongue now playing at his tongue ring, "yeah.. i guess you do," he agreed, a strange smile on his face . Something about his tone was just.. off..

Nine victims. Nine people dead in the past 3 weeks. All found stabbed, bloodied & with their mouths wide open. The killers signature was established right after the second murder, using the victims blood to write next to them, GHOSTFACE, which has been used throughout every single one.

Police have gone insane trying to find this masked killer. Some witnesses have reported having seen the killer, dressed in a costume of the infamous Ghostface from the well-known Scream movies.

The murders stayed on your mind constantly. Paranoia consumed you everywhere you went, whose to say you weren't going to be the next victim?

The worst part, was that you knew all of them.

You now always looked behind you, to your sides. One earphone out of an ear, just to hear if someone was near you.

And even then, you were startled completely when Lana threw herself onto your back. "hello!" she squealed, throwing herself on you. You grunted, nearly falling forward, "fuck- lana! i almost just fucking elbowed you in the face!"

Lana laughed, rolling her eyes. "whatever," she smiled. She looked around her for a moment, making sure no one was listening. "haven't you heard?" she asked, her toothy grin showing.

Your heart sank, "..another murder?"

She made a face, hitting your shoulder. "no, silly! gosh- you with those murders. anyway, Hänsel is going to ask you out!" she whispered harshly, shaking your arms with excitement.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "what?". She nodded rapidly, chewing her gum, "mhm! i overheard it during physics and wait- wait, now he's coming!"

You freaked out by her excitement, her constant shaking of your arms now causing nervousness to bubble. You heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned to see Hänsel. He was tall, pale, his hair was a messily straight, light brown. Rosy cheeks & a broad nose. "hi," he smiled.

You smiled back, "hi." He bit his lip for a moment, "not to sound weird but, are you doing anything special tonight?". His eyes wandered down, leaving your eyes to meet your cleavage.

He shamelessly stared, then let his gaze wander downward again. You felt a tight squeeze on your wrist, you could recognize Lana's touch even with your eyes closed.

"uh- no, i'm not," you chuckled. His eyes snapped back to yours, "great. i'll send you my address," he smiled again before walking off.

You turned back around, a large smile on Lana's face. She jumped with excitement, "you have a date tonight!". You chuckled, "yeah, i guess."

From the corner of your eye, a tall figure moved around, cutting down the corner from the hall. You only were able to catch a glimpse of what you could only find familiar from the person, black braids.

       You turned back to look at yourself in the mirror, "i don't know, lana! what if he's not what i think he's like?" you pouted, sitting on the edge of Lana's bed. She groaned, throwing a sock at you.

    "oh, shut up! he asked you out for a reason. plus, haven't you kinda had a thing for him since like.. middle school?" she asked obviously referring to the many times you'd commented on his attractive appearance.

    You rolled your eyes, "well, yeah.. but.. i don't know," you rubbed your nape. "i just... feel weird," you mumbled, rubbing your own arms. She groaned louder, "gosh- here you go again with these murders!" she complained.

    You sighed, looking around the room to avoid her scolding. "you've gotta let that go! i know, it's bad- really bad.. but, c'mon! you can't let that just control your life!"

    You looked back down to your hands, chipping at the fresh nail polish. She wasn't wrong. Ever since the murders started, you really let yourself go. You never went out, only stayed in, refused to go anywhere that wasn't crowded (for more witnesses).

"just let loose, that's not a crime. now let's go, we have 15 minutes to get you there," she smiled, grabbing your bag. You sighed, following her out the door.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at Hänsel's house. The front porch light was on, everything around was quite quiet. The house was slightly isolated, you didn't exactly expect for him to leave near a woody area.

The sounds of bushes rustling filled your ears, the tree leaves falling as the wind blew harsher, a natural whistle coming from its strong blowing. The door opened, a smiley Hänsel standing, "hey," he stepped aside, letting you in.

"hi," you chuckled, stepping in. He closed the door, locking it behind him. The house was dimly lit, it was strangely cold.. and oddly quiet. "we can head to my room, I put a movie on for us," he took your hand, leading you.

You nodded, swallowing as you followed him. You entered his room, it wasn't as dark. His lights were low , the bed done, along with a couple of snacks.

He sat down on the bed, patting the place next to him as he scooted over. "i hope you like Bride of Chucky," he joked, turning it on. You sat down next to him, smiling, "i love that movie."

"so do i," he replied, dimples showing. He was attractive, his lips very tempting as he licked his lower lip. His hands managed to travel around your shoulders, holding you close as the movie progressed.

It started off at a distance, both of you slowly gravitating toward each other until your bodies were pressed against the other. It felt nice. He was warm, the snacks were yummy & the movie was great.

But again, there was a strange feeling that you couldn't shake off. Especially, with the occasional floor creaking. You'd whip your head each time towards the door, but nothing. The paranoia began building up on you.

The tapping on his window, which he explained to be the tree branches. The creaking, the loud gushes of wind, so many things began to build up on you, even, the hand of his that began to travel down.

His hand left your shoulder, slowly inching down to the top of your breast. His breath slowing as you could feel his lustful gaze from the corner of your eye. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, thinking that if you'd ignored it, it would just go away.

It didn't work, as you can feel his breath grow closer, nearly hitting your ear directly. You cleared your throat, sitting up abruptly, ripping his hand away. "where's your bathroom?" you asked, not looking at him.

He was taken aback, and to say the least, disappointed. He didn't respond for a moment, bringing his arm back to his side. "door to the left," he mumbled, clearly upset.

You hopped on your feet, leaving his bedroom and entering the first door to your left. You locked it, your hands finding the door as you placed them flat. You steadied your breathing, "fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck."

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths. You should've known he wasn't looking for a romantic night. You looked at yourself in the mirror, staring at your reflection. "you're okay.. you're okay," you comforted yourself.

You gulped, turning the water on as you collected some wet water to pat on your neck. You swiped some water across your chest, trying to freshen yourself up.

The sounds from the movie were loud, Chucky's cackling heard from the bathroom as what you presumed to be, stabbing sounds. You shook your head again, fingers tightly gripping the sink. "get yourself together. it's fine, it's fine. just tell him you're feeling sick."

You took another minute, collecting yourself & your thoughts, rehearsing your line over & over again. You brushed your fingers through your hair before taking a deep breath, & leaving the bathroom. Your steps were loud compared to the quiet home, the movie loudening as you grew closer to his room.

The door was slightly opened, only an inch or two from it being completely shut. You looked at your feet, pushing the door open before taking your steps inside. "Hänsel, I think I should just go-"

You stopped in your tracks, your voice caught in your throat as you took in the scene in front of you. Hänsel laid on his bed, sprawled out in a starfish position. His sheets were soaked in blood, wide holes in his shirt. His eyes were wide & bloodshot, deadly staring back at you with no life.

His mouth was wide open, blood pouring out as he gurgled. He coughed, tongue shaking as he tried to speak. Blood splatters painted his walls, drops of it all across his face. His shirt was slightly lifted, you only caught a glimpse of the numerous deep wounds that oozed red liquid.

You screamed, an ear piercing, chilling scream. You stumbled back rapidly, eyes never leaving his wounded body until you collided with something harsh. You whipped around.

"boo," he smirked. You shrieked, stumbling back. He laughed at your reaction, "you really are getting easier to scare." Your breathing became heavy, your head spinning as you couldn't believe it. It was Tom.

    The thick black cloak covered him entirely, the bloodied Ghostface mask in his right hand. He held the bloodied knife in his left, head cocking to the side. "what, honey? don't tell me you're scared," he said pouting, fauxing a sympathetic tone as if he were talking to a child.

      He took a step closer to you, to which you stepped back. Your whole body trembled with fear and confusion. "T-tom.. h-how could you?" you asked, hurt in your voice. The boy you'd known for so long, was the killer.

     He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "you still don't get it, do you?" he asked, tapping his knife to his forehead. He took a step closer, his hand firmly holding your arm, digging into your flesh to hold you still.

    He pulled you close to him, you winced as his tight grip never faltered. "honey, i did this for you. for- for us," he explained, a smile on his face. You felt sick to your stomach at his tone, at his wicked smile.

      He chuckled as your face clearly showed your struggle to comprehend, your arm still trembling. "gosh, my love. i know you're not that dumb," he cooed, his hand loosening on your arm but now cupping your cheek.

     He chuckled as he explained again, "honey, all you had to do was not talk to all of these guys but.. look what happened," he turned you around, making you face the dead boy.

     Your breathe got caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. You shook your head, not wanting to believe he was dead. dead because of you.

    You choked out a sob, backing up, attempting to leave the room. Your back collided with his chest, your own heaving as you let the tears leave. He wrapped his arm around you lovingly, moving your hair to one side, leaving it bare for him.

     He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. His nose nudging against your neck caused goosebumps to rise all over your body. His embrace oddly soothed you.

      He kissed your neck softly, his lip piercing gently grazing the sensitive skin. "did this all for you, baby," he whispered sadly. You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly. "why? why?!" you shouted.

    He turned you around again, making you face him. He smiled wickedly, his eyes soft on you. "because you're mine," he held your jaw, "nobody belongs with you except me."

     Your glossy eyes stared back at his, your breath steadying as you took in his words. His fingers were coated in blood, smearing it on accident across your face & clothes. He smiled softly, "c'mon honey, let's get you cleaned up," he whispered.

      He pulled your hand to the bathroom, quickly swooping you onto the sink. By wetting some paper, he wiped your face gently, making sure to rid you of another boy's blood. You were silent, staring at his face intently as you watched him be so loving after murdering someone.

     He'd smile at you occasionally, obsession coursing through his veins. He slipped the bloodied papers into his pocket, sighing as his hands now held your thighs. His face was so close to yours, his breath fanning against your face.

     "i knew you'd be so understanding," he sighed happily. You stared back at him, silent, mouth slightly agape. He held your head, pressing his lips softly against your forehead. His thumbs rubbed your cheekbones,

    "i love you... you're never leaving me."