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matthewtkachuk · 8 months

Text

one day all my love will come back to me

Spending a mid-degree gap year in the guest bedroom of your best friend who you’ve been in love with for ages seems to be a recipe for disaster until a hook up with a player from a visiting team threatens to change your future forever

pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader; brayden point x reader

warnings: creative liberties taken with the 2021-2022 regular season schedule and the availability/contributions of Brayden Point during the 2022 playoffs, typical angst associated with a love triangle with a hint of unrequited love, sexual themes (not quite smut but more than implied) and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc.)

word count: 10.9k

a/n: surprise @senditcolton i'm your summer exchange fic writer! i'm so so so sooooo sorry this is late, @wyattjohnston and i were having a hot girl european summer and it's not an excuse but a bit of an explanation. when i saw you had written brayden point twice in your players list, i knew it was time to dust off this fic idea i had last year and do her proper justice. i hope you like it!!! shout out to demi for the many "replace c with C" suggestions on google docs and @thomasschabot for the other suggestions. ok i'll shut up now, enjoy!!

The Avs are up by one with thirty seconds to go and you’re pretty sure you’re going to puke. It’s a good thing everyone is far too focused on the action going on at ice level to question why your gaze keeps bouncing between the good guys and a certain forward on the other team. It’s such a strange feeling—you want with your entire being for your boys to hoist the Cup, but there’s a small part of you that never wants to see the boy on the other team you care for so deeply, so upset. He was right, you both crossed the line past hooking up a long time ago.

“You look hot.”

In any other circumstance, those words from Nate would have your heart going into overdrive. As it stands, your heart is already pumping at a rate you fear is not healthy while you lie on a trampoline with your niece’s sprinkler set up beneath it. For every bitter complaint you’ve ever had about a Canadian winter, the opposing heat waves might just be slightly worse.

“A/C’s broken,” you say like that explains everything.

Nate hums in response like maybe it does before pulling himself up beside you.

Somehow the air around you feels even hotter, precipitation building at your hairline. You fuss for a minute, wiping away the sweat before dramatically slapping your hands down on the trampoline in protest.

Nate ignores you, choosing to instead cheerfully proclaim “This is nice!”

“What do you want?” you ask in response. There are layers to your grumpiness, but for now you can pretend it’s all related to the unbearable heat.

“Can’t a guy visit his best friend?”

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep yours closed. “Not when it's 34 degrees out and humid as hell and he has to leave his air conditioned mansion to do so.”

“I saw your story and I was coming to invite you to my air conditioned mansion.”

“Is Sidney home?” Your tone is so much more nonchalant than you feel. It doesn’t matter that the aforementioned man went from Nate’s childhood hero to mentor to near-brother; it will never not be weird to have but one degree of separation from the man who’s name is on your town’s welcome sign.

Nate laughs like he can read your mind, but you still don’t glance over at him. You don’t need to, not really. The image of him beside you comes all too easily to your inner mind. His hair’s got a wave from the humidity, his nose tinged red from the hot sun, and his chest golden and chiseled and harlequin romance novel cover-esque—

“You know one day you’re going to have to get used to being around guys who made it to the show. Hell, I'm a guy who made it to the show.”

Finally you turn to look at him and he’s somehow even more beautiful than you’d just imagined. “That’s different Nate. You’re….you.”

He smiles at you and it’s brighter than the damn sun causing you so many problems today. “And Sid’s just Sid. And the guys in Denver are just the guys in Denver.”

His words have your nose scrunching and you promptly go back to laying flat on your back. “Don’t remind me.” There’s silence for a beat or two and then you continue, “Speaking of, are you sure it’s still okay—“

Nate doesn’t let you finish this time. “Yes, I’m sure it’s okay for you to hang around my apartment in Denver while you take a year off from school to figure out what you want to do.”

“Thanks Nate,” you reply and he hums in response. Abruptly you sit up, sliding a little from the slick trampoline surface. “Your A/C offer still standing too?”

He grins this time and you’re damn near blinded. “For you? Always.”

Sidney—Sid waves at you both from his kitchen when you pull up to Nate’s but that’s as far as it goes. Nate makes a joke about banana bread that you don’t quite get, mood souring considerably when you wonder aloud if he thinks Sidney will bring some over.

It’s all forgotten when the cold air hits you as you enter the lake house.

The summer passes by quickly without too much incident—just the nagging of your mother about your future and your own tiptoeing around the feelings you have for your friend.

On one of your and Nate’s last nights before leaving for Denver, your niece pulls him aside and sternly instructs him to bring home the Cup for her.

He laughs, but there’s something in his eye that says he means it when he says he will. That intensity doesn’t waiver, even as his gaze slides toward you. It has you thinking about a future by his side, celebrating those moments with him in a way so much greater than you do now.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you kiss your family goodbye, trying desperately to not let any tears shed at the thought of no longer being a small distance away. Nate’s constant near proximity and the promise of more of it takes away the sting a little, but you fall into your sister’s embrace that little bit more all the same.

Even as you do a final check of your things—two large suitcases, a carry-on and a backpack to house everything you’ll need for the next year—you think about it, of what it would be like to do this every year. What it would be like to pack with the intention of unpacking your things beside Nate’s in his closet. It’s silly, but sometimes you still feel like you’re fifteen years old, realizing you’re in love with your best friend as he goes away to the same hockey school as his idol.

Two flights full of self doubt and Nate sleeping on your shoulder later you’re convinced spending your impromptu gap year at his place is a bad idea. But then he’s smiling and ‘welcome home’-ing you and you step through the door.

Unemployment and a mid-twenties life crisis isn’t so bad from the guest bedroom of a lavish semi-detached in the suburbs of Denver. The bed’s softer than the one in your childhood bedroom. Bigger too. And the closet leading into the attached en-suite has no business being the size it is.

There are downsides of course. You are still unemployed and in the middle of a life crisis. Nathan is woefully unaware of your feelings and likely to never reciprocate. His teammates look at you like they know, though. And there’s the whole banning of any food that brings any modicum of enjoyment that you’re not entirely sure is serious or not.

The teammates that come around are kind to you when you’re around them enough to let them be. A small part of it is the intimidation of them being professional hockey players but they’re good guys and you’ve met many of them before. Really, it’s something more akin to the inherent uncomfortability of your predicament. It’s Nate’s house and you’re free-loading.

Of course he would argue differently if you voiced your thoughts and hang ups but that’s precisely why you don’t.

Nate may have never caught onto your feelings for him, but he’s not an oblivious person. That’s probably how you end up in the family box, being personally invited to brunch with the Better Halves by the best-half-in-charge herself, Mel Landeskog.

You find yourself nodding despite the anxiety of the possibility of making new friends, certain it’s less of an invitation and more of a demand.

She tells you as much, pressing a mimosa into your hand when you arrive at a cute restaurant and a table full of beautiful, predominantly blonde women. If Nate’s teammates were intimidating on a personal level, their wives and girlfriends are a whole other level. Never in your life have you been so surrounded by a group of women so put together—every outfit perfectly on point, every head of hair treated to an expensive blowout, every foundation shade perfectly matched or worse, no makeup needed.

It has you self-conscious, despite having spent ages picking out something to wear and trying to tame your hair into something presentable. The mimosa helps, and so do the compliments from Ashley Kadri. Little by little you open up, and by the end of brunch you have a killer buzz and a dozen new instagram followers and numbers in your phone.

When Nate picks you up, the bubbles have gone to your head. You spend the entire ride back to his place with the back of your head pressed to the passenger side window so that you can grin stupidly at his side profile.

“The girls are great,” you tell him with a silly giggle. His returning smile reeks of satisfaction of a job well done, but you don’t focus on it. “We’re gonna get dinner this week too!”

Although Mel takes you under her wing, it’s Heidy, Cale’s girlfriend who you instantly click with.

She’s every bit as beautiful and kind as the rest of them, but you connect with her on a different level. It’s almost like you’ve known her as long as you’ve known Nate. She shares your love of Taylor Swift and gets your jokes and is more than happy to let you bounce future career plans off her.

You can tell the girls have questions about your relationship with Nate, and truthfully they can get in line behind you. Sometimes, when you’re not careful, it almost feels like you’re not alone in how you feel. Sometimes it feels like you’re high school sweethearts, playing house on the precipice of a greater future.

Nate doesn’t help it himself though. It’s you he calls on long road trips, you he pulls into a giant hug outside the locker room before driving you both home after a game. You who is invited to WAG functions as a connection to him—both informally in a social context and more formally and broadly. Things like charity toy drives and the family box at games. A part of you fears the possibility of playoffs—especially with odds so clearly in the Avs favor—and what it would mean to be so publicly claimed as Nate’s while privately remaining the way you always have been.

It’s Heidy who you confide in. She’s always there to offer her ear, her shoulder, her opinion. And, although she encourages you to share your feelings, she also knows when to back off and let you do it when and if you’re ready.

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready.

With Christmas comes the Better Halves Christmas Tree Auction. It’s Mel’s favorite charity event of the season, she tells you gleefully.

“Every event is her favorite,” Suzanna says behind her back later.

Designated Favorite Human of the Avalanche Children is usually your favorite title, but it means you have one kid hanging off of you when the girls drop the bomb on you.

“So what are you thinking for your WAG tree?”

It’s an innocent enough question, especially when you think it’s aimed at one of the aforementioned WAGs in the family box. Only when there is no response do you look up and realize it’s meant for you instead.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your…Tree,” someone says slowly and you shake your head.

Your tone and words are almost as flustered as you are. “No I heard you. I’m just—What do you—Why are you asking me?”

“Well, Nate said…”

It all comes clear. Yet again, you’re expected to play the part. At great personal cost, mind you. It’s a mindfuck and a half, having to do all the things that you do for a man you love when it doesn’t mean anything.

Your thoughts are invaded with a tempestuous mixture of Nate and your relationship or lack thereof and yet another public acknowledgement.

Truly, you wonder if the others in the box pity you or laugh behind your back.

“C’mon,” Heidy says later, when the final buzzer sounds, cementing another win. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Nate’s,” you correct weakly.

She nods and repeats his name, grabbing your arm and leading you away.

You’re stewing in silence when Nate comes home.

“You okay?” he questions upon finding you in the living room, lit up only by the light filtering in through the large bay window.

The twitch of your eye is the only indication you’ve heard and recognized his words for a long moment. You can practically hear the gears whirring in his head, can feel the moment he’s about to speak again.

Not wanting to give him the opportunity, you ask, “Why?” His brows furrow and his head tits and so you continue. “Why did you say I would do your Better Half tree?”

“It’s for charity…You love charity work.” Nate visibly relaxes and you understand why. He’s not wrong, engaging in charity work has been a big part of why you’re not wallowing in self pity, but this isn’t just simple ‘charity work’ and you tell him as much.

“I love toy drives and helping at the soup kitchen and adoption events at the ASPCA. This is different, this is your WAG tree. It means something. It’s in your name, like I’m—I’m—“ you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“Everything you mentioned you do in my name.” He doesn’t seem to get it, frustrating you further.

“It’s not the same, Nate! All those other things I do as part of the larger group. It’s all facilitated by your team and your teammates ‘Better Halves.’ Their wives and girlfriends. They’ve all made me feel welcome, but I'm not one of them. This implies that I am one of them, but I’m not your girlfriend and certainly not your wife.”

“You basically are.” The phrase has your heart jumping into your throat. Of every daydream or fantasy you’ve ever allowed yourself to slip into, you never dreamed this would be how it all went down—“Without actually being my wife or girlfriend.”

“Right.” Your voice is short and clipped, masking the hurt quickly overtaking you. You won’t cry—you’re stronger than that. So strong in fact, that you lay down a firm boundary. “I won’t do it. Get Sidney to do it or something.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, pausing and then asking, “We’re good, right?”

“Yep.” You feign nonchalance and then wish him a good night.

The pillow holds all your tears and secrets.

The incident sticks with you, despite your many attempts to shake it off. Even Heidy can’t help. She tries anyway.

You’re not his.

But you are. You’re his and you have been for years now. Since he was leaving for school. Maybe even many years before that. Regardless of the true beginning, it doesn’t quite matter. What really matters is this: you’re not sure it will ever have an ending, but you’re almost certain if it does, it won’t be the one you want.

You’re his but he’s not yours.

Part of him is, sure, but you share that part with the other residents of Cole Harbour. The other part with the team and his teammates and their families, with the fans and the haters alike. The part you so desperately want to be yours has belonged to many a woman, but never to you.

It was a lot easier to live in the space between his childhood best friend and everything more when you were separated the majority of the year. A summer chock full of other things to do and focus your attention on to keep the longing at bay and enough distance for the rest of the year to forget how it feels to have him near without really having him.

One of Heidy’s distraction schemes involves hitting up downtown Denver a few nights later.

“But it’s Thursday,” you say when she shows up at Nate’s dressed up like she’s ready to hit the bar.

“I have tomorrow off and you don’t have a job, so,” she replies.

You frown, “Ouch.” She throws a look your way as if to not take it so personally and continues perusing your closet. “I’m not really feeling up to going out tonight.”

“Too damn bad,” she replies. “You can’t just sit here and wallow for the rest of your life.”

“Watch me,” you retort but start to get up anyway.

She smirks and tosses some clothes at you. “Get dressed and do something with your hair. I’ll do your makeup.”

“Where are you guys going all dressed up?” Nate questions when he spots the two of you in the foyer.

“Out.” Heidy is curt, a consequence of her not only being a good friend to you, but also her own awareness of his behavior.

His brows knit together but he soldiers on, “Do you want company?”

“Nope!” She’s much more cheerful now that she’s handed you your coat and bundled herself up. “Don’t wait up!”

Heidy drags you out to Cale’s car, where the man himself sits waiting. You instantly feel bad—between your protesting and actual time spent getting ready, he’d been sitting a while.

“Have you been here the whole time?” you ask as you get in the backseat. He shrugs with a rosy smile as Heidy pushes you in further and takes a seat beside you. After pressing a quick kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek over the center console, of course.

Cale doesn’t stick around after dropping you both off—a wave, a ‘be safe’, and ‘call me when you’re ready to go home’ and he’s gone.

You’re terrible company admittedly, mouth set in a deep frown that doesn’t crack even as you sip your drink. Heidy does most of the talking at first, blabbing away about everything and nothing. Until she sighs, slaps her hand down on the bar top and says, “You need to deal with this. Either you need to resolve things with Nate or you need to get over it, distract yourself with something or someone else.”

You nearly choke on the last of your drink. “Gee, Heidy, could you be any more subtle?”

“I’m worried about you.” She’s so earnest it tugs at your heart.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try. Really.”

She smiles, relaxing into the seat at the bar top.

Just then, the bartender sets another drink in front of you.

“I didn’t order another,” you state politely, attempting to hand back the drink.

The bartender shakes his head, motioning to the table in the corner as he speaks. “From someone at that table.”

It’s a group of athletic men, but only one is looking your way. He’s all intense eyes framed by intense eyebrows, but the look on his face doesn’t match the intensity. It’s…intriguing to say the least. Soft but confident, and definitely interested.

It’s not until one of the other men at the table elbows him that you realize they’re the team playing the Avs tomorrow night.

Quickly you spin back around and whisper to your friend, “Someone from the Tampa Bay Lightning just bought me a drink.”

Her eyes widen and she herself turns around quickly to get a glimpse of your admirer across the bar. You grab at her arm and bring her back to face the bar top.

“Heidy!” you hiss.

“Sorry!” she replies, “What are you going to do?”

You think about it for a second before throwing caution to the wind. Putting on your flirtiest smile, you turn around a lot more gracefully this time. Raising the gifted drink, you tilt it in a ‘Cheers’ motion before wrapping your lips around the straw for a sip. He responds with an identical gesture, although with an amber colored beer bottle instead.

Satisfied, you resume your earlier position while Heidy speaks.

“When I said you needed a distraction that is not what I meant!”

You roll your eyes. “It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal. Relax.”

She does, until you pull her out to the dance floor with eyes only for the man across the bar. Lucky for you—and less lucky for Heidy’s resting heart rate and blood pressure—he’s got eyes for you, too.

It only takes half a song for him to approach and introduce himself. “I’m Brayden.”

You smile and reciprocate, waiting a beat for Heidy to speak too, but she just tilts her nose up. An elbow to her side doesn’t get her speaking and so you introduce her, too.

One of Brayden’s eyebrows raise and you find yourself momentarily mesmerized by the action before quickly explaining, “Big Avalanche fans.”

He nods slowly once, then shrugs. “Maybe I can change that.”

“Doubtful,” she says under her breath, but if you heard it, you imagine Brayden did too.

She doesn’t thaw any, even as the song changes. Nor does she get the hint to take herself elsewhere and so you rather pointedly ask if she can go get you both another round.

Heidy isn’t even able to get out whatever she was ready to grumble before Brayden is offering, pausing to ask what Heidy is drinking. She begrudgingly tells him and he disappears.

“Seriously? You could have any guy here and that’s who you go for?” she asks.

You shrug, “He’s the one I want.”

She softens at your earnest tone. “Okay.”

“Call Cale,” you tell her. “Go curl up on the couch and watch TV together or whatever you would have done if you weren’t worrying about me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Go. I’ll be fine. And I’ll text you if I need you,” you confirm.

She sighs. “I’m waiting for my drink first.”

You laugh and pull her into a side hug. “Love you.”

True to her word, she finishes the drink Brayden brings her—even managing a ‘thank you!’—before slipping off into the crowd and, you imagine, into her boyfriend’s car.

Brayden looks a little concerned at her rapid exit. “Did I do something to make her leave?”

“Besides playing for the wrong team? Nah.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but the concern fades when you wrap your arms around his neck.

It’s all but gone when you press your lips to his.

You dance for another few songs and another drink before your inhibitions are just low enough to drag him in the direction of the bathrooms.

The men’s is empty when you enter, and so you flip the lock on the door and press yourself against him.

He reciprocates, crowding you against the door with his mouth hot on yours.

Your whole body lights up at his touch, coming alive beneath his fingertips. There are no thoughts of Nate or the predicament you’ve found yourself in, just Brayden.

His hands are curved around your jaw, and your leg is wrapped around his waist when he pulls away. “Wait...wait.”

“You don’t want…?” You’re not drunk, just a little bit more sensitive to rejection than you usually would be.

“No that’s—That’s not it at all. I want you, like, really want you.” He kisses you, and as good as his touch feels, being wanted feels that extra bit more. “Not like this. Not here.”

Truthfully, you’ve never been the kind of girl who lets someone hit and quit in a bar bathroom before. Or anywhere really. A part of you that you thought was long buried stirs inside of you and you realize for the first time in a long time you’re feeling something for a man who isn’t your best friend.

Your best friend. Shit. “I have a kind of odd living situation right now, my place isn’t an option.”

“Your parents?”

You bark out a laugh that he immediately covers with his mouth. “No, they’re back in Canada.”

“Your husband? Your boyfriend?” He’s joking, but you can’t help but get the sense there’s an ounce of worry that he’s right. It’s such an inconceivable notion that Nate could ever be either to you that you laugh again.

“No, I just live with a friend who probably won’t be understanding about a strange man in their house.”

Brayden visibly relaxes, pauses, and then says, “I have a hotel room…you’ll have to be quiet though.”

“I can be quiet,” you reply, barely hiding your smirk.

You try your best, really give it your best effort, but no one has ever touched you like he does.

Nate doesn’t cross your mind once.

You sneak out early in the morning, determined to not have a semi-public walk of shame in front of an entire hockey team. It’s almost a success until you run into his captain in the lobby. Feeling your face grow hot, you give him a little nod and escape to the waiting Uber. You can only hope he doesn’t get too much shit, telling him as much using the newest number in your phone.

You’re not nearly as lucky, facing the firing squad that is Nate as you slip into the entryway. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see your best friend awaiting your arrival, if the several messages that popped up when you’d finally opened your phone to send the aforementioned text to Brayden were any indication.

“Where have you been?” he asks and you have to keep from rolling your eyes.

“Out,” you say, calling back to Heidy’s response last night but he doesn’t accept it as easily coming from you.

“All night?” he continues the interrogation.

“I crashed at Heidy’s last night, what’s with the fifth degree, Dad?”

He looks like he was waiting for this moment as he replies, “No you didn’t, I talked to Cale.”

This time you do roll your eyes. “It’s none of your business, Nate.”

“It is my business if you’re under my roof,” he says, doing his best impression of your father for real this time.

You know it’s not his intention, but your stomach drops all the same. The old feeling of guilt and shame and failure floods your veins, and you can tell he notices.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just worried and you didn’t answer my messages.”

“I know,” you say but the words taste bitter in your mouth. “I’m going to go get some more sleep. See you later.”

He repeats the words back at you, but you’re more focused on the buzzing phone in your pocket.

Safe in Nate’s guest bedroom, you slip into something more comfortable, get beneath the covers and open your messages.

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Got fined

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Probably going to get chirped for a month

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Worth it though

You: I would tell you I’m sorry but I’m not

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Me either

If you thought that was the beginning and the end of Brayden you would be sorely mistaken.

Long distance flirting becomes a long distance hook up becomes him flying you out to see him. Any time you protested the latter, you’d find a non-refundable ticket in your email and a ‘please’ in your text messages.

Fall fades into Winter and Bar Guy 💙🤍 turns to Brayden turns to B 💙. As your feelings for him grow, you find thoughts of Nate as anything other than someone-you-grew-up-with fade.

You come clean about the ‘friend you live with’ being Nathan MacKinnon before the first time you fly down to see him, worried that your lie by omission might be a dealbreaker. Brayden only laughs, he figured Heidy’s hostility was more than just motivated by more than sports team loyalty.

The thing about Brayden is he never makes you feel bad about Nate. He is understanding and gracious, never demanding, never unreasonable. A small part of you sometimes thinks about how if the roles were reversed, you don’t think Nate would be quite the same.

Initially unsupportive and apprehensive, Heidy comes around, although her persistence turns from telling Nate how you feel to telling Nate about Brayden. You don’t do either, and she keeps your secrets.

Nate being selected for the All Star Game in Vegas while Brayden isn’t brings a unique opportunity for a week straight in hot, sunny Florida. The chill of Denver isn’t quite as biting as back home, but you’re excited to escape it all the same.

He doesn’t ask you to join him in Vegas, but you do wonder if he thought he didn’t need to.

It doesn’t matter either way, when an errant high stick in overtime breaks his nose and dashes his All Star dreams.

Your first thought upon seeing him bloody and disoriented on the ice is that there is no way you can go to Florida.

It probably looks much worse than it is, the girls try to reassure you in the box, but you’re not convinced.

Nate’s reassurances later don’t do much either. Not with his face puffy and bruised and some dried blood on his chin.

It’s not until he assures you that his mom and sister will be coming down to Denver since they had the time off anyway that you decide for sure you will go.

The day you leave for the airport, his pathetic form on the couch is almost enough to have you last minute cancelling on Brayden.

Nate all but demands you don’t miss out on his account, asking that you ‘be safe’ and ‘have fun’.

In return you hit him with a ‘thanks Dad’ and ‘take it easy’ despite knowing just by virtue of who he is as a person he will be doing the exact opposite.

Thoughts of Nate, broken and bruised, haunt you the entire journey. They don’t fade until you’re in Brayden’s arms. Even then, it’s a dull ache that you do your best to ignore.

Evidently you don’t do a very good job of hiding it, or maybe Brayden just knows you better than you think, because he catches on before you’ve even reached his place.

“You okay?” he asks, gently squeezing your knee where his hand rests.

Turning to look at his side profile, so earnest and sweet, you don’t even think of lying.

“I’m worried about Nate.”

“I get that,” he says and you wonder if he truly does. “I’m glad you’re here with me though.”

Smiling at him, you are too, and so you try to push down the guilt and focus your attention on the man you’re with.

You check on Nate periodically throughout the week, never getting much more than a thumbs up emoji, but at least you know he’s alive.

Brayden wines and dines and, well, you know the rest of the rhyme.

By the time the week is up, you don’t want to leave. It’s strange how meeting one person can change things so drastically. Before Brayden, you would never have dreamed of spending a week with another man when Nate was injured and possibly may have needed you.

It also puts things into perspective for you.

Really emphasizes how much additional emotional labor you put in—and were expected to—in your relationship with Nate. The lines and boundaries had long since blurred, and it took dedicating your time and energy to another man to see it.

If Nate notices the way you pull back even further when you return, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Falling for Brayden is easy. It’s a gentle float down to the ground, landing among a field of flowers to catch your fall. A stark contrast to the free fall of being pushed from an airplane at 10,000 feet by Nate.

Where Nate’s sharp edges have cut you time and time and time again, Brayden’s curves wrap around you and hold you tight.

When you’re not physically with him, you’re texting and calling, and when you’re not doing that you’re thinking about him.

Neither of you make any move to define the relationship further, but it doesn’t sting like the years of being strung along by Nate did. It’s probably because while no words have been exchanged to that effect, Brayden lets you feel how much he cares for you.

You’re nearly found out late in the regular season.

Something about Tampa has started to feel familiar and safe—you try not to think about exactly why that is—and so, despite the knowledge that the boys are in town, too, you’re not as careful as you should be.

There’s an ice cream spot near Brayden’s that you’ve taken to frequenting. As a consequence, it’s also near the arena.

Because it’s so close, you decide to walk there, teasing him the whole way about how one ice cream cone won’t derail his nutrition plan. He’s arguing back, but you know it’s in vain because his sweet tooth and the lilt of your voice will win in the end.

Your hands naturally brush as a result of your close proximity and you take the opportunity to link your pinkies. He smiles softly and you walk in silence for a minute until he breaks it.

“You really won’t let me give you my jersey?” It’s a question that has come up before, but every time it does you wonder if it’s a little bit more serious of an ask than the last.

“I’d rather die. Maybe if you were a better hockey player,” you tease, jumping back to avoid his grasp.

He gasps playfully, thick eyebrows raising with his wide eyes. “Take that back right now.” He takes a step closer to you but you dodge his advances, sliding to the other side of the bench.

“Sorry baby, you know I bleed blue and maroon. Wouldn’t be caught dead in traitor blue.” Not to mention you’d never ever hear the end of it from the boys if someone saw you in it.

He fakes left and you fall for it, giggling madly as he wraps you up in his arms and scrapes his beard against your cheek. “What about just for me?” he asks, kissing your neck once and then nipping at it with his teeth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “In my bed with nothing else on?”

It’s like the already beautiful temperature rises even higher when he presses his mouth to yours. You give in quickly, pressing onto the tips of your toes to get even closer. It turns dirty quickly, his tongue in your mouth and his fingers buried deep in your hair.

And then a familiar voice calls your name.

You pull from Brayden like you’ve been burnt, a look of pure panic crossing your face as you realize you know the body attached to the voice.

It’s JT and he looks like been standing there long enough to figure out what’s going on.

“JT—“ you start to explain, but pause. There is no easy, simple explanation. There are months and months, hell years and years, of backstory and layers to even get to this point.

“I thought—“ He appears to change his mind, stopping his thought mid sentence and switching to a question. “What’s going on here?”

“Brayden and I are, well, we’re.” It’s a struggle to explain what you are to one of Nate’s teammates when you haven’t had this conversation in full with the man beside you. Finally, you land on “We’re together.”

You don’t look over at Brayden to see his reaction.

“How long?” is the natural follow up.

It’s another tough question, but you decide to go with the first time you met and slept together. “Before Christmas.”

“Does Nate know?” he asks. The wild look in your eyes must give you away because he signs and says your name. “You have to tell him.”

You get that, really you do. But at the same time it’s your business what you do and who you do it with, not Nate’s. At the same time, you know it would be a really shit thing for him to find out through someone who isn’t you.

Beyond that, you’re pretty sure right before playoffs isn’t the right time to have that conversation and you tell JT as much. “I know, I will. After the season I’ll tell everyone.”

JT looks less than convinced.

“You know Nate, it wouldn’t do anyone any good while the season is still going on. Please, you can’t tell him.”

JT might be as aware as you are of who Nate is as a person, and he’s certainly more aware of who Nate is as a hockey player and so he agrees despite his clear hesitance. “Promise me, after the season.”

“I promise.”

When he’s gone, Brayden finally speaks up. “You want to go public with us?”

You worry you’ve said the wrong thing, starting to babble about how you’re sorry the conversation didn’t occur privately first, and how you don’t need to go public if it’s not something he wants to do when he silences you with a kiss.

“I want to tell everyone,” he says earnestly and you kiss him again.

JT thankfully keeps his word.

Nate doesn’t watch any other team in the playoffs.

It makes trying to catch Brayden’s games tough, sneaking out to sports bars, watching games on your phone in Nate’s guest room, even flying out to watch a couple home games during the run.

The only supportive merch you sport is a necklace with his number, and on occasion a little blue and white lacy number under your clothes. You’re not offered a WAG jacket—whether that’s due to Brayden knowing well enough you don’t want to be that public or because your reaction to the style of jacket itself was less than positive.

In the back of your mind you recognize there’s a chance it could come down to the teams of the boys you care for most; one Eastern Conference, one Western Conference.

Selfishly, when the first round between the Bolts and the Leafs goes to seven, part of you hopes for it to end right there. Most of you is glad they push through.

On Colorado’s side of the playoff bracket, they absolutely rip through everyone who stands in their way.

You are offered a jacket with Nate’s name and number in glitter, but you turn it down in favor of a lucky baseball cap, though you do accept an unpersonalized crop from Madison.

Some of the girls decide to travel for the away games. You have to turn them down because there are already tickets with your name on them to see Brayden. There’s no way you can—or would—miss any Avs home games, and so instead you end up being one of a handful of supporters in the likes of Toronto, Miami and New York.

It’s a difficult balancing act as the playoffs progress in both teams’ favor.

And then your worst nightmare comes true. The quest for the Cup comes down to your… whatever Brayden is to you and to Nate and the team you’ve supported since he was drafted and all the other people who have come to feel like family.

Whispering to Brayden in the dark of night before the Finals begin, you tell him, “You know I support you, but…”

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, even though he has no reason to match your tone all alone in his home in Tampa. “I get it. As long as you still like me, you can like them a little bit more.”

You giggle, “It’s got nothing to do with liking you, you dolt.”

“Bolt,” he corrects, and even though you can’t see him you know he’s smiling.

“Oh my God, shut up.” You don’t mean it literally but he’s quiet for a second too long. “No matter what happens I’m proud of you.”

For two people who have never properly defined nor publicized their relationship, it might be too heavy of a moment, but his quiet thank you is laced with emotion.

“Go to bed,” you say after another few beats of silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The first two games are in Colorado, and the boys take both at home.

“Ain’t over til it’s over,” is both of your boys’ philosophy after the first two.

Nate is positively buzzing, especially after so decisively winning the second, but still cautious—very aware of how quickly a 2-0 lead can turn into the end of the line and empty hands.

Brayden is also cautious, and this isn’t his first or even second rodeo at the Cup final in as many years. You try to kiss it better in a random hallway in the bowels of Ball Arena.

Finally accepting the Better Halves’ invitation to travel to road games, you have a good seat to Tampa taking back some momentum in game three before promptly handing it back to Colorado.

You die and come back to life a dozen times in game four as Brayden and his team hold on.

Game five is to be played back in Tampa, and you spend the night before the game in Brayden’s bed instead of the hotel Nate has paid for. “Good luck,” you whisper against his lips early in the morning before you leave to meet the girls for breakfast.

“You don’t mean that,” he teases, stretching out in such a way that has you considering skipping breakfast—certain teasing and interrogation be damned.

“Good luck to you,” you amend, kissing him once more. “Your team can rot.”

His laughter rings in your ears as you leave.

Mel corners you after breakfast, a familiar offending piece of clothing in her hands. “This could be it,” she explains, offering you the jean jacket.

If it were any year previous, you might have worn it. If you didn’t have Brayden, you might have worn it. If Nate had offered it to you himself alongside a confession, you might have worn it.

None of these things are true, and so you decline. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

Her smile has a twinge of sadness and understanding as she replies, “Okay.”

Sitting alongside the girls in the box with your cropped sweater hiding the 21 necklace around your neck, you’ve never felt more torn.

Brayden’s captain nets one early in the first, and you’re not sure you breathe again until Nate’s powerplay evens the score early in the second. There’s an undercurrent of excitement in the box alongside the nervous energy. Midway through the second, Arturri tips it in and Amalie Arena is silent.

It stays like that for the rest of the period until you excuse yourself to grab a drink at intermission. Standing in the long drink line, you spot a little girl in a Point jersey and your stomach twists as you think about how no matter which way this ends, someone you care for will be hurt.

That feeling doesn’t leave as you sit through a scoreless third period. The arena gets loud with Bolts fans throughout, celebrating every blocked shot and turnover. That intensity picks up in the dying seconds of the game as Brayden picks off the puck in the defensive zone.

He rushes up the ice flanked by his linemates, but is momentarily stopped by Cale.

He gets his stick back on the puck and your nails dig into the leather arm of the box seat. Suzanna grabs your hand, assuming it’s worry for her boyfriend and his teammates and you let her think that and hold your hand.

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

He shoots right as the buzzer sounds and Darcy gloves it down like there was never a question of him stopping it.

The entire box explodes in a chorus of cheers—there’s shouting, swearing, crying, laughter and you’re right in the middle of them all. Your boys are Stanley Cup Champions.

Someone grabs you, and then someone else joins in and suddenly you’re in the middle of a dog pile. “They fucking did it!”

You’re so fucking excited, incredibly proud and honestly a little weepy about your favorite people finally getting their hands on their childhood dream. But, a bigger part of the organ in your chest than you want to admit aches for the downturn of Brayden’s head as he skates back to the bench.

An attendant appears and wrangles the rowdy bunch down to the ice. You’ve got Linnea Landeskog in your arms and a giant grin on your face as your feet touch the ice.

“Down please,” she politely states while trying to wriggle out of your grasp. The second she’s down she’s running at her daddy who sweeps her up in his arms.

And then Nate’s on you in a way that you used to long for when you were younger. He’s red and sweaty and out of breath but none of these things stop him from hauling you up into his arms and spinning you until you smack at his chest, demanding to be let down much like Linnea only minutes ago.

He stops spinning but he doesn’t let go, staring up at you with a look he’s never given you before. You’re so caught up in the excitement of it all you barely notice, grabbing his cheeks and shouting in his face, “You fucking did it!”

“We fucking did,” he says like he can’t believe this moment is happening—whether that’s due to you in his arms or the Cup that will now bear his name no one can really say. He kind of looks like he’s about to do something stupid, leaning in ever so slightly, and so you finally succeed at leaving his arms, slipping slightly as you reach the ice once again. Brayden is watching from across the ice, a sad look on his face that you just want to kiss off. You don’t though, just pat Nate on the back once and continue moving, throwing yourself at Cale, then Burky, then Mikko.

It’s a blur of celebrations and photos with the Cup—you even let Linnea convince you to take a photo with her and the Cup, her mom remarking that it looks good on you. When you pull from your photo pose, you give her a questioning look. “A baby and a cup,” she smirks, blatantly looking over at Nate who seems to agree.

You laugh nervously—last year that was all you wanted, the boys to win and Nate to want you in that way. Now? Now you can picture it still, you just picture it with someone else.

Finally, you’re able to sneak away and Brayden has the same idea, telling you to meet him in a closet by the locker room. No words are exchanged as he pulls you in by your hips and kisses you like he needs it to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him and you mean it.

A crinkle forms between his eyes. “No you’re not.”

You kiss him again once, “I’m not sorry the boys won tonight, but I am sorry it was against you.”

“There’s always next year.” It’s far more flippant than you had anticipated, really you thought you’d be dealing with an upset Brayden and that might have broken your heart.

“I thought you’d be more upset.”

“Can’t win ‘em all,” he says and you give him a look to be serious. “So what, we didn’t win the Cup this season. I got you, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off, dont be stupid.” Your cheeks are hot and your eyes are wild.

“I mean it. I’d take you over the Cup nine times out of ten.”

“What about the other one?”

“Need to win another one for us to put our future babies in.”

“Awfully presumptuous for a hook up.”

“This is so much more than a hook up.”

“Yeah,” you admit, sinking deeply into another kiss.

“Besides,” he pauses, “Already got two rings.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay I gotta go. Will you come get me later?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid to ask, like he’d go into the pits of hell itself for you without hesitation. “Of course. Now go. Celebrate. I’ll see you later.”

You slip out first, making sure the coast is clear and go find the others. A Stanley Cup Champion hat is placed upon your head and a bottle of champagne in your hand. There’s a celebration in the visitor locker room and then the party moves to a local bar.

Someone shells out the money for a few bottles of vintage Dom Perignon that you indulge in, but mostly you just relish in the happiness of everyone around you. If you’re honest, you spend a fair amount of time avoiding Nate who has a serious look every time you catch him staring.

Shortly before midnight, you slip out of the bar and into Brayden’s waiting car. The bubbly must have gone to your head, because you forgo any verbal greeting in favor of launching yourself over the center console to press your lips to his.

He pulls away and very somberly states, “I can’t take you seriously in that sweater.”

Looking down, you spot the Avalanche crop and laugh as you pull it off and toss it in the back. “Better?”

He hums, fingertip tracing the chain around your neck from your clavicle down between your breasts to reveal his number on the pendant. “Much.”

You sink back into another kiss before remembering where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing meanwhile the bar you just left is crawling with people you’re not quite ready to come clean to just yet.

“Take me home, Bray,” you say as you relax back into the passenger seat.

You don’t have the power to bring your lover the Stanley Cup your friends were just drinking out of. All you have to offer is yourself, but he accepts it with as much gratitude as your best friend accepted the Cup earlier.

Later, he looks like he wants to ask you to stay, and you think you look like you want him to.

In the end, it doesn’t matter as you fall asleep next to him and somehow make it back to your hotel room in the morning with no one the wiser.

Nate spends a few more weeks in Denver after the win, celebrating with the guys and riding the high of winning it all. You only spend a couple days and then move out of his house and back into your parents.

You don’t tell him about Brayden, content to let Nate enjoy his successes.

As a consequence, you don’t see much of him in July or August. Even when you’re both home, he’s busy with all his other friends and his family, and you’re busy with your niece and deciding on what to do in the fall. You’ve determined the best course of action is to finish your degree and then apply to a masters program in order to change your career path.

The choice, then, is where to do so. You can stay at home, commute an hour each way into the city—supported by your hometown friends and your family. Or you can make the shift to Denver for real, with your found family and with Nate. Or…

The University of Tampa Bay has an excellent program. You know from your time visiting Brayden through the season that the university is right around the corner from Amalie Arena and Brayden’s. It’s awfully presumptuous, but you find yourself daydreaming about the possibility much like you used to daydream about a future in Denver.

Of course, there’s an entire continent of possibilities, hell an entire world of possibilities, but these are the three most attractive options.

There are many discussions to be had, and choices to be made. You don’t want to do either until you’ve had a chance to speak to Brayden in person, but just as Nate’s had a busy summer, so too has he.

He messages you every morning before and after working out while you’re still asleep. Every conversation eventually devolves into some combination of ‘I miss you’ and ‘when can I see you?’

You do manage to spend a few days with him in the Rockies mid-July that fly by far too quickly. Every time you leave Brayden it gets harder and the implications of it all have your stomach in knots when the thought crosses your mind.

It all comes to a head spectacularly the day before Nate’s day with the Cup. You’re at Nate’s, helping to prepare for the post-parade celebration when you’re called away by his sister. She wants your help deciding on which photos to display—it’s a mixture of past and present alongside an elementary school assignment two decades old wherein Nate declared his future profession would be ‘Stanley Cup Champion.’

You’re smiling, lost in the memories when Nate comes crashing into the room you’re in. There’s an indiscernible look on his face, but it reads somewhere between anger, frustration and hurt. The look on your face betrays your confusion, and it only deepens when you see your phone in his hands.

“What are you doing with my phone?” you ask.

His jaw ticks. “Thought it was mine.”

It doesn’t really do anything for your confusion. If anything, it deepens it. “What’s your problem Nate?”

“This! This is my problem.” He finally cracks, shoving your phone in your face to reveal messages from Brayden—under the contact name of the letter B and a heart—wondering when you plan on making the trip to Calgary to see him. Your stomach drops and your heart feels like it’s at risk of falling right out your chest. It was always going to come out, but especially as you crossed the line between sharing body heat with Brayden and sharing your secrets, hopes and dreams.

That being said, it is a shit way for your relationship to come to light for sure, but you can’t help but feel your friend is overreacting. Sarah is looking between the two of you, panicked and frozen like she doesn’t know what to do.

“I think your mom could use some help in the backyard, Sar,” you say gently, and she gladly takes the opportunity to flee. Once she’s gone, you turn on Nate. “I’m sorry that you found out this way, but you had no right to come in here like that. Poor Sarah looked terrified!”

He looks at you incredulously. Now that his sister is out of ear shot, he appears to have allowed himself to lean into his emotions a little more. “I have no right? What about you? Hooking up with some random guy in Calgary? Is that where you’ve been running off to these past few months?”

You know that this is probably the least important part of his rant, but you feel the need to clarify. “He’s not just some guy, Nate. His name is Brayden. And for the record, no. I wasn’t in Calgary, I was in Tampa.

He looks confused in addition to enraged, and so you put the pieces together for him. “I’ve been seeing Brayden Point.”

“You’ve been sleeping with the enemy?”

“Are you joking?”

This is not your friend Nate. This is some angry being inhabiting the body of your friend Nate.

He doesn’t back down. “It was between us and them in the final, pretty sure that qualifies as the enemy!” He pauses for a second and then continues, “How long have you been sleeping with him? During the final? Were you rooting for him instead?”

“Nate—“

“No, don’t Nate me. I bet you were, I bet you wanted them to win, him to win. I bet you were sitting there in the family box, using tickets I paid for, against me the whole time.”

“That’s not fair!” you try to interject, despite the tiny grain of truth to his words. It would be untrue to say some small part of you wanted Brayden to succeed, but your loyalties have always been with Nate and his team.

“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t trust a thing you said right now. Not after this. Not when you know.”

“Know what?” you question.

“How I feel! About you. And me.” The blurred edges start to come into focus. He’s been acting like a man scorned, because in his eyes he is one.

Unable to form any coherent thought, you repeat yourself from earlier. “Are you joking?”

He’s less angry now, slipping further into the hurt brewing under the surface. “It’s always been us. Since we were kids. And now you’re messing around with some guy on another team. I can't believe you!”

The tears start to pool at your waterline, but you’re too stubborn to let them fall. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You string me along for years and years and years, expecting me to play the part of your girlfriend without being your girlfriend and to wait around for you to figure it out. I am sorry you found out like this, but I’m not sorry about him. I’m not sorry about Brayden.”

He flinches at the sound of Brayden’s name, the anger clouding his eyes even further. “You want him so bad, why don’t you go to him right now?”

“Nate—“ You’re not sure he knows what he’s saying, what the implications of all he’s said really are. What it would mean if you left for Calgary this afternoon. What it would be like if you weren’t there tomorrow to join in his celebrations.

“Go.” When you don’t move he speaks again. “Get out of here.”

He hasn’t raised his fists or even his voice, but you do as he suggests. Calmly, begging the tears not to fall, you walk right out of his house and get in your car and you drive.

Brayden picks up when you call while driving, and there’s a ticket in your inbox before you’ve even made it home.

A short layover in Toronto—and with nothing but the clothes on your back and a small carry- on—later, you’re sinking into Brayden’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head where it’s buried in his chest.

“Thank you,” you say, leaving hundreds of words unspoken in your gratitude.

The kiss he pressed to your lips and the way he says ‘Anything for you’ tells you that he understands.

He’s got his own place in an affluent suburb of the city, and you’re grateful for the fact that you won’t have to see anyone else with your puffy, bloodshot eyes.

The last time you’d cried this hard, it had been over the loss of your childhood dog. Nate had been there then, flying in after a late game to hold you while you cried. Maybe you had misunderstood his feelings for you, missed the signs he thought he had laid out so clearly. Maybe that would have mattered a year ago.

It doesn’t, now.

Not when Brayden’s arms feel like home. His warm gaze feels like the sun. His kiss and his touch feel like heaven on earth. His love feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Your world nearly stopped in Nate’s living room, but it resumed spinning here in Brayden’s bedroom.

You’re curled up on his chest while he soothingly runs a hand along your spine when you tell him. “I love you.”

His hand stills on the middle of your back, but you don’t panic. Your mind and heart are clear and in unison. He doesn’t make you wait long, cupping the back of your head and tilting your head back ever so slightly so that your eyes meet.

“Yeah?” he asks like maybe he needs the validation.

“Yeah,” you reply, giving it to him.

The grin on his face might be worth everything you’ve been through.

You squeal as he flips the both of you, ending in a position where his arms bracket either side of your head in order to keep from crushing you with his full weight.

“I love you,” he repeats, kissing every inch of your exposed skin.

Tangling your fingertips in the hair at the nape of his neck, you say it again and again and again. It’s a chant and a ritual, told between sighs and moans and whimpers. He strips you of your clothes, taking you apart piece by piece and then putting them all back together.

It is intimate and sweet as he takes you to the highest peak, hearts and limbs and minds all intertwined. There is no doubt, no insecurity, no hesitation. All of the love you have to give is reflected back at you. You and Brayden are two sides of the same coin, destiny and fate and all the good forces in the world have brought the two of you together.

That’s why when, in the dark of his room later, you say yes when he asks you to move in.

Despite the apparent suddenness, your family is more than supportive of you and Brayden. Though that may be because he charmed the pants off all of them the following week when returning to your childhood bedroom to pack your things.

Your niece is delighted when she learns that Brayden’s “job is hockey!” as she so sweetly declares, requesting he win her a Cup too.

It reminds you of Nate and how you haven’t heard from him. You don’t reach out either.

Your time in Calgary is short, punctuated by the bittersweet news that although many of your credits will transfer over, you’re not able to start college classes at the University of Tampa until the second semester.

“Now you can come with me on all my road games,” Brayden says when you tell him.

“Fat chance.”

Training camp sneaks up on you both and before you know it, you’re making the permanent move into Brayden’s bedroom and his life, publicly this time.

The Tampa WAGs are sweet and welcoming, but you find yourself missing the Colorado Better Halves. That’s probably why you agree to dinner with Heidy the first time in the season that the Avs are in town.

You make plans to meet at a cute spot downtown near the arena.

The minute you spot Nate waiting outside, you start to turn around. Not so much as an Instagram like since the day before his day with the Cup and now he’s at one of your favorite restaurants in Tampa like everything is okay?

“Wait,” he says and for some reason you do, pausing mid turn. “I’m sorry.”

That’s enough to have you turning back around to look him in the eye as you scold him. “Really? I haven’t heard a word from you in months and that’s what you have to say?”

“I know,” he says.

“You were really shitty Nate! You knew how I felt and apparently felt the same way, but you just took advantage of me and my feelings for you for years! And then, you made me feel like trash for falling for someone else.”

“I know,” he says again.

“Can you say literally anything other than I know?” you say exasperatedly.

“I—“ he starts and stops with the look you give him. “I don’t have a good explanation for the first bit. You’re right, I’ve been taking you for granted for a long time. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared to lose you if we ever crossed that line.”

“I get that,” you reply. “Why do you think I never said anything either? I’m less mad about that and more mad about you being a giant asshole about me meeting someone.”

He nods. “I know. I was jealous and hurt and I lashed out and hurt you too. I never meant for it to get like this, but the longer it took for me to reach out and apologize the harder it seemed. I am really sorry, and I’m happy you found someone who treats you the way you deserve.”

It’s a sincere apology and one you’re certain he means. Beyond that, you just miss your best friend and so you throw yourself at him in a big hug. He’s startled, but very quickly wraps his arms around you too.

“Things aren’t magically okay, you really hurt me, but you’re my best friend and I’ve missed you so much. There’s been a million times where something happened and I wanted to tell you about it, but couldn’t.”

“You’re my best friend,” he says.

Nate scores a goal during the second period of the game but it’s not enough for the Avalanche.

Brayden comes home the clear winner to find you curled up in his bed. First he undresses and then he slips into bed beside you.

“Glad you made up with Nate,” he says, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Glad you won,” you reply, feeling the way his lips curve in a smile against your neck and knowing he’s about to say something stupid and cringe.

“In more ways than one, baby,” he laughs, caging you in with his arm as you struggle to get away from him and his bad jokes. “In more ways than one.”

Despite the way you playfully try to escape his clutches, the truth is you feel like you’re the real winner.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #brayden point fic #shelb writes

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untilwedont · 2 years

Note

Bro I’m so in love with vinnie pls do any kind of smut for him

-🗿

Consequences

Pairings; BestFriend!Vinnie hacker x male!reader

Warnings; unprotected sex, vinnie being very jealous

Summary: M/N couldn't help but flirt with other guys to try and get a reaction out of vinnie. Looks like he'll have to show him what happens when M/N flirts with guys that aren't him.

The party was crazy. There were tons of people you hardly knew, loud music playing, and crazy flashing lights. "I'm gonna get another drink, i'll be back in a few minutes." One of your friends told you, dancing their way out of the crowd. A minute or so passed by when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see a very handsome man. Hair slicked back, nice facial features, everything about him was practically perfect.

"Oh, hi there." You said as you scanned the man in front of you. He was a few inches taller than you, and wore a tuxedo. "Hey there, handsome. Mind if I buy you a drink?" The taller man asked arrogantly, arms crossed. "This is a party... not a bar. Everything's free.." You laughed a little, the look of embarrassment on the man. "Well, mind if I get you a drink?" He asked, trying to hide the embarrassment in his voice. "That'd be delighting." You smiled.

"I never got your name." You spoke, taking a sip from your drink. "The name's Jayden. Jayden Costa. What about yours, cutie?" You a smiled a little from the name the man gave you. It was obvious he was interested in you. "I'm M/N. M/N Y/L/N." You saw vinnie looking in your direction, the look on his face screamed furious. You thought you'd mess with him a little, wanting to see his reaction. Problem was, you weren't one to really flirt.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" You asked with your hand on your cheek. "Yeah, I am actually. You." Jayden smiled a little, placing his hand in your thigh. "Te ves muy bien." You said to Jayden, who had a very confused look on his face. "It means you're very good-looking." Jaydens confused face turned into a smile, "I could say the same with you." After a few more minutes of attempting to flirt with the handsome man, you told him you needed to use the restroom.

After washing your hands, you opened the door and saw vinnie standing in front of the doorway, which caused you to jump a little. "Vinnie, what the fuck? You scared the shit out of me!" No words came out of vinnie. Instead, he pushed you back in the bathroom and closed the door, making sure it was locked. "vin, what're you doing." Just then, he pushed you against the wall, "You think it's real funny to flirt with another guy while i'm around, don't you?" He spoke into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe, his hand around your neck. A soft whimper came out of you, "I-I don't know what you're talking about.."

"Don't play fuckin' dumb with me M/N. You know I saw you with that other guy. What was his name, hm?" His hand pushing at your neck slightly, but not enough to choke you. "J-Jayden... His name was Jayden." You gulped slightly. His hand released from your neck was placed on your head, pushing it down. You were now on your knees. Vinnie unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants, along with his underwear, down. His cock sprung out, slightly slapping the edge of your chin.

"Suck it." vinnie said sternly, but you only teased him. licking the tip and the slit of his cock. Vinnie pushed his cock fully down your throat, "I said suck it, not tease it. You aren't very good at listening to instructions, M/N." Meanwhile, your eyes were watery from gagging so much on his cock. He took his cock out of your mouth, "Get up and strip for me." You quickly obeyed, getting up and removing your clothes.

"Wow, lube. how convenient." Vinnie said, taking the lube from under the bathroom cabinet. Vinnie squirted some of the lube onto his cock. He lined himself up with your hole before ramming into you. You covered your mouth with your hand as you moaned loudly. "Remove your hand, baby boy. I want everyone to know how good I can fuck you." Vinnie grabbed your hand to remove it from your mouth. "Hng, f-..fuck vinnie!" you said, resting your forehead on your arm.

"You think that Jayden dude can fuck you this good?" He was ramming into you, making it harder for you to get your words out. "M...Maybe he c-can.." You managed to moan out. You felt a sharp pain on your ass, "What was that, M/N?" He asked as he slapped your ass, thrusting harder. "FUck, nO.. O-onLY you can...fuck me this good." You were a moaning mess. You could hardly get a sentence out without moaning in between your words. "Yeah, that's right. I oughta take a picture of me fucking you right now and show him after so he knows who you belong to, what do you think?" You only nodded your head, you felt like you couldn't get a single word out. "Fuck, I'm close!"

"I..inside.. please.." He obeyed your command, throwing his head back and releasing inside of you and painting the inside of your walls. After a few minutes of getting cleaned up, you checked the time. An hour had passed. "Vin, can I ask you a question? How come you got jealous when I was flirting with another guy?" Looking directly into his eyes, but his eyes looking anywhere but yours. He scratched the back of his head, "Erm.. well.." He sighed, "It cause' I really like you. Like I'm practically in love with you. I didn't tell you because I was too scared you'd reject me. When I saw you talking to that other guy, It got me really worried so..-"

"So you decided to have sex with me?" You chuckled a bit. "Yeah.. guess.. If you don't like me back, I-" You cut him off by placing a kiss on his lips. "Let me stop you there. I only flirted with the guy to get a reaction out of you since I liked you a lot." You heard vinnie sigh with relief, "So you didn't like the Jayden guy?" He said, wrapping his arms around your waist. "He wasn't bad looking, but he definitely wasn't as attractive as you are." You smiled and placed a quick kiss on vinnie's lips. You were happy to finally have vinnie as your boyfriend.

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 4 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game.

TW: This chapter mentions violence and death. Please read on with caution.

Major spoilers ahead.

This is a rush translation, so yeah, expect a lot of grammatical mistakes.

I walked down the hallway lined with antiques, just like the one I passed through when I arrived in the 19th century.

The door in the mansion was shrouded in fog, but strangely, nothing happened in this hallway.

(Drake must be ahead.)

(But where on earth does this lead to?)

Comte told me that this hallway would respond to human emotions and lead you to your destination.

This was how Comte found everyone.

(If Drake's goal is me, I'm sure I'll find a way to get to where he is.)

(I have no proof of this, but I have no choice but to believe it.)

Repeating it to myself, I kept walking deeper and deeper into the hallway until I saw a light at the end.

(Is this a forest?)

After being enveloped by a bright light, the scenery changed completely.

At first glance, it looked like a forest, but looking closely, it was actually a mansion's garden.

(Is Drake here? Or did I wander somewhere?)

(In any case, I need to explore the area.)

Feeling anxious, I walked around the mansion, and suddenly一

???: "No!"

(I just heard a woman's scream from inside.)

The mansion's windows, where the voice came from, were completely covered with curtains.

However, I found a small gap and peeked inside secretly.

There, a scene that made me shudder spread before me.

Woman: "Stop. Please, stop."

Among several people, a crying woman was tied to a cross-shaped piece of wood, and the hall that seemed like it could be used for a party was filled with an eerie atmosphere.

(What the hell are they doing?)

Boy: "Damn it! Let go of me!!"

(----!)

I moved my gaze as I heard a child's scream and saw a boy who was not even ten years old being held down by adults.

Boy: "Let me go! What are you going to do to my mom?!"

Man: "Shut up, Dhampir!"

(Huh? Just now...)

Before I could process the words I heard, the older man in the scene raised his fist and slapped the boy's cheek.

Blood then overflowed from his mouth and dripped onto the red carpet.

(This is horrible.)

I stood there, shocked by their brutal treatment.

Woman: "Master, please stop! Don't harm Francis!!"

(Francis!?)

The woman certainly called the boy by that name.

(That man earlier called him a Dhampir.)

(Then that boy is Drake.)

(Does this mean this is his past?)

(So the tied-up woman is his mother, and the ones around her are...)

The man referred to as the head of the clan looked down on the young Drake with contempt as he wiped his hands.

Clan Chief: “This woman, your mother, is a disgrace to our prestigious Drake family.”

Clan Chief: “Despite being a noble pureblood, she associated with lowly humans and even gave birth to a disgusting half-breed.”

Young Drake: “.........”

Clan Chief: “You should be erased from this world.”

From the man’s demeanor, it was clear that he harbored disdain for humans, and the scene before me brought to mind the story Drake had told me before.

------------Flashback-----------

Drake: "You see, my mother comes from a somewhat special and prestigious lineage."

Drake: "In her final moments, my mother averted her gaze from me and said, I should never have given birth to you."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(If his past is happening right now, then is his mom really gonna betray him?)

To me, it seemed like she was desperately trying to protect Drake.

Clan Chief: “We vampires carry the gift of eternal life. We are superior beings compared to humans.”

Clan Chief: “Those who tarnish that pride have no right to live eternally.”

The clan chief nodded, and one of the surrounding people brought a sharp spear.

(No way...)

Young Drake: “Stop, please stop!”

Drake, upon seeing the spear, desperately struggled and finally broke free from the adults' restraints. He ran towards his mother and attempted to bite through the rope that was binding her waist.

Young Drake: "Mom, I'll definitely save you!"

Drake's Mother: "Francis..."

Seeing Drake's determined attempt to protect his mother made my heart tighten.

Pureblood: "You dhampir, behave yourself!"

Young Drake: "No! Let go!!"

Pureblood: "Your turn will come later. I will make you fully realize your mother's foolishness and the sinfulness of your existence."

Drake's Mother: "Francis!"

The adults immediately pulled Drake away, but he continued to resist and struggle.

His mother, still bound, twisted her body repeatedly, but the restraints didn't loosen.

Eventually, her tear-stained face broke into a painfully crooked smile.

Drake's Mother: "Ahahaha! To think I would end up like this just because I met your father and gave birth to you!"

Young Drake: "Mom?"

Confused, Drake looked up, and his mother turned her face away.

Drake's Mother: "Francis, I shouldn't have given birth to you."

Drake's Mother: "Get out of my face!"

Drake's mother's scream struck him.

(Oh no.)

(This is the first betrayal Drake spoke of.)

The words, sharper than any spear, must have cut deep into Drake's heart.

Shocked, sorrowful, and various emotions flooded over me, and I gazed at his mother in disbelief.

Drake's Mother: ".........."

(Huh? Did she just say something?)

I squinted and saw her lips, peeking through her hair, form a certain word.

Is she crying out of pity for herself or something else?

(Could it be that his mom...)

At that moment, the head of the clan grabbed Drake's hair and forcibly lifted his face.

Young Drake: "Ugh..."

Clan chief: "Haha, did you hear her words just now? This woman has fallen into hell by giving birth to you!"

Clan chief: "You'd better watch the end of your mother. This is the sin of your birth, Dhampir!"

In the next instant一

(Stop...)

Young Drake: "Stop!!"

Drake's mother was pierced through the chest with the spear.

Young Drake: "Ah..."

His mother's gruesome figure was reflected in his aquamarine eyes.

(Is this really happening?)

Unable to bear such a merciless scene, I covered my eyes.

Witnessing the brutal killing of his mother was something no child like him could bear.

Clan Chief: "Now, it's your turn. You filthy Dhampir."

(----!)

I looked up to see the spear dripping with blood pointed at Drake.

(Drake, run!)

I was about to shout that when一

Young Drake: "Ugh. Arghhh!!"

Clan Chief: "Gyaahh?!"

Drake sank his teeth into the shoulder of the clan chief, who had been holding him.

Despite being bound, he attacked the vampires, throwing off the hands of the startled adults.

His disheveled hair and eyes wet with tears glared with anger, giving off an intimidating presence.

Pureblood: "Eeek, demon!"

Clan Chief: "Guhh, what are you doing?! Kill him, stab him with the spear!!"

Just as the spear was about to be aimed again, Drake charged towards the window, breaking through the glass and rolling out to the outside.

I quickly hid myself behind the corner of the building.

Young Drake: "Why, why did this happen? Mom..."

Young Drake: "Am I an unwanted child? Then why did you give birth to me?"

Young Drake: "Damn it, damn it! I'll make those fucking vampires disappear!"

(Drake!)

Unable to resist, I chased after him as he ran deeper into the forest, shouting.

(---!?)

Suddenly, a gust of wind blocked my path and obscured my vision.

Feeling like a tornado had swallowed me, I cautiously opened my eyes and saw a forest.

(Is this the same forest as before?)

(Where’s Drake? And why does something feel off?)

???: “*pant* *pant*”

(Someone’s coming!)

I hid behind a nearby tree as the sound of someone hurriedly running approached.

Just as a male figure was about to run past me, a gunshot rang out.

???: “Gah!! My leg!!”

The person, shot in the leg, crawled to the ground.

(That person is the clan chief from earlier.)

Drake: “Don’t run, Mr. noble pureblood.”

(Drake?!)

Quietly stepping on the grass, the person I knew too well appeared.

(He’s an adult now. Does that mean time has passed since earlier?)

Coldly staring down at the clan chief, Drake held a gun in one hand and dragged a long spear stained with blood in the other.

Clan chief: “Are you seeking revenge for having your mother killed!? It’s all that woman’s fault!”

Clan chief: “You, filthy dhampir, are a disgrace to our clan.”

Drake: “Shut up.”

The moment his cold voice silenced his words, he raised the spear and plunged it deep into the clan chief’s chest.

Drake: “This is the end for you. I’ll eliminate every vampire in the Drake family with this spear.”

Drake: "Now you can finally say goodbye to the disgrace."

The man groaned in pain for a while before falling silent.

(He just killed him.)

I covered my mouth and collapsed to the ground, trembling after seeing him kill someone.

(He probably killed many more people during his lifetime, but…)

Even though I knew it in my head, seeing it happen right before me was...

(Scary. He's scary.)

My heart was overwhelmed with fear.

Drake: "I killed them all with this spear."

(Drake?)

Drake: "I've taken my revenge, hahaha!"

He laughed like a maniac. His behavior seemed less like joyful revenge and more like giving up on himself.

(I never expected you to smile so painfully.)

Still laughing, he pulled out the spear, licked the dripping blood from it, and suddenly stopped, holding his throat.

Drake: "Haha! Even this disgusting blood can quench my thirst."

Drake: "This damn body..."

He hunched over, trying to suppress his bloodlust.

(I'm afraid of him, but I can't help but want to hug his back.)

Overwhelmed by my own emotions, a sudden gust of wind blew and obscured my vision once again.

(Where am I this time?)

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a corner of a splendid and dazzling grand hall.

In the center, a dignified woman was sitting on a throne, and in front of her was a man kneeling.

(That's Drake...)

Queen: "It seems like you've succeeded. I heard that you also obtained the vampire-slaying spear."

Queen: "Francis Drake, the dhampir."

Drake: "Yes, Your Majesty."

(That's Queen Elizabeth I.)

(Wait, did the Queen know about the vampires and his true identity?)

The queen, hiding her mouth with a fan, chuckled as she looked at him.

Queen: "Fufu. Capturing your pirate ship turned out to be a lucky win for me."

Queen: "Revealing the existence of the spear and having you take care of the vampires has indeed been a very good deal."

Drake: "What about my crew?"

Queen: "I will set them free."

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

(He talked about his family and even got his hands dirty for the sake of his crew.)

Queen: "Drake, will you continue our deal? I have invested in you and will grant you special privileges for your pirate activities."

Drake: "Ha?"

Queen: "In exchange..."

The queen rose from her throne, approached him, and lifted his chin with her folded fan. She then smirked, revealing her lips adorned with red rouge.

Queen: "Hey, Drake. Although vampires are rare in number, they possess strong bodies and are immortal."

Queen: "Moreover, according to the royal investigation, it seems they have secretly infiltrated various countries around the world."

Queen: "And as a dhampir like yourself, you can sense their presence."

Drake: "........."

Queen: "Vampires who drink human blood pose a threat to England. As the queen, I want to protect my people."

Queen: "We must eradicate these beings that bare their fangs at humans."

Drake: "And what do you want me to do?"

Queen: "Rejoice, for I shall give you a mission. Travel the world and hunt those vampires with that spear."

Queen: "My pirate, become the royal's right hand and protect England."

(This is not a mere deal.)

(The queen is giving him an order, knowing he can't resist.)

Drake: “.........”

Drake: "Yes, Your Majesty. As you command."

Wiping away all emotion from his face, Drake answered meekly.

From then on, I continued to witness glimpses of his past as he wandered through different eras.

Vampire 1: "I don't indiscriminately attack humans! So, please let me go. Gyaah!"

While traveling the world on his ship, he repeatedly engaged in piracy while also finding vampires in various places.

Vampire 2: "To think a dhampir would lay hands on vampires. Ugh..."

Keeping it a secret from his crew, he carried out the queen's orders in solitude.

Vampire 3: "You also carry the blood of a vampire! How can you betray your own people, you bastard!?"

Brandishing a spear shaped like a knife, Drake hunted down countless immortal vampires.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #ikevamp translations #cybird #francis drake

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babybridgerton · 2 years

Text

little women part one: the bridgertons

Summary: The Bridgerton sisters are closer than most but the trials of womanhood might just tear these little women apart.

A/N: Please let me know if you enjoy. Also feel free to imagine the Bridgertons as whoever I don't describe them or Y/N only the love interests. Speaking of love interests, I have cast Laurie Laurence as Dev Patel, again you can picture whoever.

Please note: 1) the Bridgerton boys will not be in this fic and 2) a significant portion of the dialogue is lifted from the Little Women (2019) script.

little women masterlist | next part

Eloise Bridgerton is a beautiful young woman. She knows this. She is also a very smart young woman. Unfortunately only one of those traits is useful for a young woman in society. She hopes this will help her chances in her upcoming meeting.

Striding slowly to a large wooden door, she wipes her hand on her skirt before knocking sharply.

She steps in, hoping to appear confident in front of everyone. Despite the room being full of men working, no one even looks at her. Most don’t realise she’s even there.

Eloise scans the room, searching for Mr Dashwood. When she can’t see him, she walks over to the only man actually paying attention.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Mr Dashwood.”

The old man just stares. She smiles, a little unnerved, a little confused. He very pointedly looks at his name plate, ‘Mr Dashwood’.

Eloise whispers under her breath, “Of course you are.” She clears her throat then holds out some papers to him, “A friend of mine wanted me to hand in a story she wrote. And to ask if she can write more, if it suits.”

“Not a first attempt, I take it?” He snatches them from her, giving the words a quick scan.

“No, sir. She has sold to other papers and won prizes for her stories.”

“Prizes?”

“Yes. Sir.”

He looks her up and down with thinly veiled disdain. “Sit.”

She does so, pressing her hands firmly into her lap to cover the ink stains.

Dipping his pen in the ink pot, Mr Dashwood begins some ‘alterations’. In actuality, he’s crossing out entire paragraphs or pages. Then he slaps the paper on his desk, startling the young woman across from him.

Eloise watches with despair, all of her work being destroyed so easily by some man who apparently thinks his lavatory doesn’t smell.

Through the fog in her ears, his voice grumbles. “We’ll take it.”

“Hmm?”

“We’ll take it. With alterations.” Mr Dashwood doesn’t even wait for the ink to dry, just gathers the pages together. “It’s far too long.”

Eloise takes her work back, brows furrowed at the lines marring her loopy script, “You’ve cut so much.” She notices his ‘are-you-seriously-going-to-argue’ expression and clarifies, “I made sure some of the sinners repent.”

“People want to be amused, not preached at. Even after Lady Whistledown’s gossip column stopped, her influence means morals don’t sell nowadays.” Mr Dashwood looks down his nose at Eloise, “Perhaps mention that to your ‘friend’.”

“What compensation –”

“Twenty.”

She looks down at her work, she knows it’s worth more but she needs the money. “You can have it. Make the edits.”

He hands her the money, and she reluctantly returns the story.

Eloise stands, brushing her skirt. Mr Dashwood eyes her ink-stained fingers with mild amusement.

She meets his eye, “Should I tell my friend you’ll take another? If she had one.”

Mr Dashwood sighs, “We’ll look at it. Tell her to make it short and spicy. Oh and if the main character is a girl, make sure she’s either married or dead by the end.”

“I’m sorry?”

He ignores her, pen in hand again, “What name?”

“Oh, none at all please.”

“If that’s what ‘she’ prefers.”

“Good day, sir.”

She practically runs from the office, attracting the ire of some of the men around her. Then once she’s outside, she picks up her skirts and sprints.

A sweet little cat meets Eloise at the front door of the boarding house she lives in. The tuxedo kitten stretches and meows, so she picks him up. “You know, my Frannie would love you, Muffin.”

She makes her way to the drawing room, kissing Muffin on the head and dropping him on a seat near the crackling fire. Eloise turns her back to the fire, warming her body while she writes.

She hears loud conversation and pops her head up to see her favourite people in the world (bar her family). Philip Crane and his two young children, Oliver and Amanda are the best part of living in the city.

“Hello Miss Eloise!” The two duck in just to give her a hug before they run to their apartment.

As she watches them leave, she makes eye contact with Mr Crane, his eyes are bright with the infectious joy of his children. He steps into the room, the light of the fire highlighting his profile. Eloise has never been more jealous of her sister Y/N’s artistic ability, she wishes she could paint him just where he stands. She’ll have to settle for her writing.

“Good afternoon, Miss Bridgerton.”

“Good afternoon, Mister Crane.”

In an attempt to appear casual, she returns to her work.

He admires her for a moment then frowns, “You’re on fire.”

“Thank you.”

“No, you’re on fire.” He points to her skirt. The back of her dress has caught on fire. She puts it out quickly, face burning with humiliation.

“No, don’t worry! I have the same habit.” He shows her scorch marks on his jacket.

Eloise smiles and takes a step towards him when the matron of the house interrupts.

“Your children are waiting.” She smacks Philip’s arm softly but can’t help her delighted expression over the two connecting.

“Sorry Mr Crane, Oliver and Amanda need me.” Eloise takes the matron’s arm and heads to the door.

“Tell them I will be a little later tonight, still in time to tell them their bedtime story.”

Eloise looks over her shoulder, “Of course. Perhaps you can tell them about my sister’s adventures in Paris.”

~*~*~*~*~

Y/N Bridgerton is a beautiful young woman. She knows this. She is also a very talented artist. Although that second part has been a source of doubt in her life.

She was in an art lesson with some of the best young painters in Paris. The class had to paint a traditional scene of friends at a picnic and as Y/N looked around, she noticed something concerning. The artist next to her was exceptional. His work was bright and colourful, loose lines and flat colours. Original and unique to himself. Hers was detailed and realistic, special care taken with light and shade. An imitation rather than an innovative piece of work. The realisation that she wasn’t a future genius or some incredible prodigy terrified her.

Disheartened by the lesson, Y/N sits in the open air carriage with her aunt, basking in the cool breeze brushing her face. She holds a folded letter from home tight to her chest. If she closed her eyes she’s certain she’d feel their love seeping through her clothes. Her aunt is complaining about something or other, a hobby she enjoyed far too often.

“I tell you, the decadents have ruined Paris, if you ask me. These French women couldn’t lift a hairbrush.”

Y/N doesn’t respond.

“Y/N!” The girl in question jolts, turning to her aunt, “I said, ‘These French women couldn’t lift a hairbrush.’”

“Oh yes, ha ha. Very true Aunt Ledger.”

“Don’t humour me, girl.” Aunt Ledger keeps her tone even but when she looks at the letter in her niece’s lap, her almost unshakeable facade wavers. She hides her distress with a sneer, “What do they write, your troublemaking family?”

“Mama hasn’t written about Francesca yet, I really should go back.” Y/N opens the letter again, “They say I should stay.”

“There’s nothing for you to do if you go back. She’s sick, not lonely.” Aunt Ledger ignores Y/N’s foul glare, blabbering on, “And you shouldn’t go home until you’re engaged to Fred Vaughn.”

Y/N folds the letter again, tucking it away safely, “Yes and completed my painting lessons of course.”

Aunt Ledger waves her off, “Yes, yes of course.”

Y/N returns to people-watching, upset by the lack of proper communication from her family and her aunt’s nastiness. A tall man with curly dark hair and soft dark skin walks past, hands tucked deep into his pockets.

Y/N jumps up in her seat, tapping the driver impatiently, “STOP STOP STOP! IT’S LAURIE!” She hikes up her skirts and runs to the man crying “LAURIE!”

Laurie turns, notices a woman draped in purple running towards him, screaming his name. As she jumps into his arms, he realises it’s Y/N, that sweet girl from his childhood.

He spins her around, laughing brightly. When they separate, she grabs his hands and he squeezes hers gently, “Y/N, you’ve grown up so much! It’s wonderful to see you.”

“You wrote you’d come to the hotel!” Her brows furrow softly.

He can’t take his eyes from her, roaming her face to memorise every detail, “I looked for you, I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Clearly you didn’t look hard enough.”

“Maybe I just didn’t recognize you, you’ve become so beautiful.” He moves their hands to the side and steps back, nodding at her.

Y/N wrinkles her nose, “Please don’t.”

“I thought you liked that sort of thing!”

“Well I don’t.” She smiles again, “Where’s your grandfather?”

“Still in Germany.” He finally pulls his hands away to put them behind his back, “I’m on my own, traveling and having fun.”

Y/N teases him, “And drinking and gambling and flirting…”

Laurie looks so horrified that if Y/N didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was genuinely scandalised. “Please don’t tell your mother.”

“So you’re chasing some girl around Europe?” Y/N’s expression drops, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t believe when I heard Eloise turned you down.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not.” He’s lying for the moment but not that he’s seen Y/N again, it could be true.

Aunt Ledger interrupts the sweet moment, shrieking, “Y/N! Y/N BRIDGERTON! YOU GET BACK HERE NOW!”

Y/N pulls Laurie along by his hand and they run back to the carriage, “Coming Aunt Ledger!”

After he helps Y/N into her seat, Laurie kisses Aunt Ledger on the cheek, “You look marvellous as always.”

“GET OFF ME! GO, GO!” With surprising strength, the crabby old woman pushes Laurie away and smacks the driver.

The carriage pulls away but Y/N kneels on her seat to call out to her friend, “Come to the New Year’s Party! It’ll be so much fun - everyone will be there, including Fred!” She’s about to turn away when she remembers, “Pick me up at the hotel at eight! And dress for festivities! Top hats and silks!”

“I will, I’ll wear my best silk!” He smiles and waves her off.

She grins and sits back down, ignoring her aunt’s ranting.

Laurie stays there a little longer, admiring the woman he reunited with. He walks away with a load lifted from his chest.

Y/N can’t help but take one last look at him before he’s gone again. He was still just as handsome as ever and she knows. She will never stop loving him.

~*~*~*~*~

Daphne Basset (née Bridgerton) is a beautiful young woman. She knows this. She is also a very tired new mother. Despite her intense love for her children, she cannot help but envy those who have not faced the same struggles she has.

Daphne watches her ‘friend’ Cressida Berbrooke wander around the shop, luxurious silks draped over the blonde’s arms. A small part of her wishes she could do the same, unworried about the cost of her purchase.

Cressida is the type of young lady who has never wanted for anything, everything has been given to her. So when she looks over at her ‘dearest’ friend, who eyes a soft green silk, her heart bleeds. “Daphne, that colour would do wonders for your skin tone, and I know the perfect dressmaker to help you.”

Daphne drops the silk and whips around to Cressida, “No, no, no I couldn’t possibly. Simon needs a new coat and the twins need new clothes.”

Cressida’s tone is spiteful, having been spoiled her whole life, she enjoys embarrassing her ‘friends’. “And you need a new dress.”

Daphne tries to hide her expression, aware of what Cressida’s doing,

“I can’t.”

“But he’ll be so pleased with how you look that he’ll forget all about the expense.” The blonde giggles.

Silk wasn’t that expensive, was it? “I suppose it’s not too much of an extravagance.”

The sales clerk seizes his opportunity, “Will twenty yards do?”

Daphne nods, “Yes, thank you.”

Her heart is warm with delight as she leaves with Cressida. When she gets home, the full force of guilt hits her. “What was I thinking?”

Her daughters play in the garden as she enters, dropping the large amount of silk on the dining table. She sits down on the porch, her regret almost overwhelming.

The twins run towards her, “Mummy!” They hug her tightly and she tucks her face into their shoulders to hide her tears. When they run off again, she’s thankful for the weight they lift. Even if it’s just for the moment.

~*~*~*~*~

Francesca Bridgerton is a beautiful young woman. She knows this. She also knows that she’s living on borrowed time. Her body is slowly giving up on her, for all her and her mother’s best efforts.

Frannie has always loved playing the pianoforte. It was something her family bonded over, and every time she plays now, those memories come flooding back.

Her favourite song to play was an old lullaby her mother and sisters used to sing. Their voices blend with the piano melody in her head.

Her hand suddenly seizes, pain searing into her bones. She brings the hand to her chest, flexing it and breathing through the pain. When she lays her hands on top of the piano, the sunlight warms them from the inside, soothing the pain ever so slightly.

Her mother’s voice calls from another room, “Frannie? Francesca!”

She can’t bring herself to respond.

~*~*~*~*~

After her lessons with Oliver and Amanda finish, Eloise has plenty of free time before the matron’s curfew. She decides to go to the theatre, a venue that once seemed too extravagant for someone like her. But the theatre she frequented allowed people who couldn’t buy tickets to stand at the back and enjoy the play.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream is playing, a play she’d always wanted to see performed. She’s enraptured, giggling at the appropriate moments, commenting on things with the man next to her.

During Helena’s soliloquy, Philip Crane looks around the theatre, watching people’s reactions to her heartfelt speech. He’s seen the play enough times that he could probably quote it by heart.

He turns in his seat, having always found the reactions of the people in the back’s reactions to be the most interesting.

There he sees Eloise Bridgerton, bright and delightful as always. She seems entranced by Helena’s performance and he can’t help the smile on his face.

When the play ends, Eloise follows Philip and his friends to a beer hall, hoping to a) get to know him better and b) finally make some friends in the city.

She’s stopped on the stairs by a young man, speaking a foreign language. He holds a hand out and gestures to the makeshift dance floor.

“I only speak English sorry!” She cries, beaming at the sweet man.

“Come dance!” He clearly learned this phrase for this situation, so she rewards his pragmatism, joining him in a jig.

The dance is free, unstructured and unchoreographed. Couples spin wildly, whirl around each other and some swap partners as they go. Eloise slowly makes her way to Philip, who gives her his hands. She dances the night away with this kind man, the joy radiating from their bodies even as they return to the boarding house. The matron locks up behind them, chuckling quietly to herself. Clearly she seems to know something they don’t.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton!sister #sister!reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

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Trust

Pairing: Mirror!Christopher Pike x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only (Minors interacting with the work will be blocked)

Notes: It’s the end of the Pike Spike like a week later. This is just smut. Smut that has not been beta-read. There are no uses of Y/N or of Reader’s physical descriptions.

I didn’t tag my usual general list because I know not everyone is into Christopher Pike, so if you weren’t tagged and wanted to be, sorry!

Warnings: Explicit sexual content - blindfolds, blowjobs, gags, light slapping piv, unprotected sex

Summary: The trip through the halls and on the turbolift have been a touch nerve wracking—but the high, sharp modulation of the boatswain’s whistle on the bridge makes your stomach twist in shock. You had little hesitation in his quarters, and even in the halls, but now, you go still at what you're certain is the mouth of the turbolift. Christopher feels it. He gives your arm another squeeze, and then a light tug. Your feet follow, leaden and clumsily. Pike guides you with an assured calmness, towing you like a shuttle with its engines down.

It starts with a note and a strip of fabric.

You look at the piece of fabric, frowning, and pick the note up to get a better look at it. You recognize your Captain’s handwriting immediately. Your eyes skim the single line there, over and over. The words are straightforward enough, but the order seems deceptively simple.

Tie this around your eyes and wait.

You glance between the note and the fabric again. Tie it and wait? Wait for how long? And for what? You pout, setting the note down and picking up the strip of cloth. It’s incredibly soft between your fingertips. You raise it curiously, wrapping it around your head and covering your eyes. It’s got plenty of room to be tied behind your head, with just a little slack. You glance down, shifting over to the couch and nervously lowering yourself onto it. You tie the fabric a little more tightly around the back of your head. It’s still loose enough that you can see the fabric of your uniform’s skirt if you glance down.

You hold carefully still, unsure of how long he’ll be—how long you’ll have to wait. You force yourself to take slow, even breaths, trying to slow the thundering of your heart in your chest. As you finally manage to calm yourself, you hear the swish of the door opening. You swallow thickly. You want to curl your fingers into fists, to grip your skirt, but you force your palms flat against your thighs. You hear his slow, steady steps approaching. You know it’s for show—your Captain could sneak up on you if he pleased. The steps cross in front of you, then around, then behind. You let your eyes close as he takes hold of the fabric, and feel his fingers brush against the back of your head.

Your eyes open again as you feel the tie grow more tight around your eyes. It’s tight enough that your lashes brush the fabric as you blink into the dim. The light isn’t closed out from you entirely, but you can’t make anything out—no shapes, no colors, just the sheen of the glow. His hands drop away from you again, and then—silence. The room goes as steady and still as it was when you were alone, with nothing but the hum of the ship around you.

And then his breath brushes across your lips. You tip your head up, leaning in on instinct, a moth drawn to his flame. He looses a cruel chuckle, his fingers curling around your jaw and holding you steady.

“Should I punish you now, or later?” He asks. Your brow furrows, lips parting in confusion.

“Punish?”

“You could see out of the bottom of that blindfold. I know you could—don’t lie to me.”

“You told me to tie the fabric around my eyes and wait. You didn’t tell me to tie it tightly.”

Christopher is quiet for a moment before he hums softly in concession, his hand dropping away from your face. There’s a beat, then he pats your cheek lightly.

“Stand up,” He urges. You do as he says. He takes hold of your arm, leading you to the left—presumably around the coffee table, and toward the door. You don’t ask him where you’re going; you don’t have the courage.

Christopher gives your arm a light squeeze, tugging you two to a stop.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

Your tongue swipes across your dry lips. You know your answer the second he asks; you know you’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy.

The trip through the halls and on the turbolift have been a touch nerve wracking—but the high, sharp modulation of the boatswain’s whistle on the bridge makes your stomach twist in shock. You had little hesitation in his quarters, and even in the halls, but now, you go still at what you're certain is the mouth of the turbolift. Christopher feels it. He gives your arm another squeeze, and then a light tug. Your feet follow, leaden and clumsily. Pike guides you with an assured calmness, towing you like a shuttle with its engines down.

When Pike pulls you to a stop again, you go still. You hear the shift of his legs as he sits, and then silence, save for the pings and blips of sensors at various stations on the Bridge. It’s a moment before he reaches you, gripping your top and tugging you in. His hands lift, resting on your shoulders, and giving a gentle push.

You lower yourself to your knees. Your heart is beginning to pound more roughly in your chest. You raise your hands hesitantly, sliding them over Christopher’s knees, and down his thighs. Your breath catches in your throat as you hear the low zzzz of his pants being unzipped. You scooch a little closer on your knees, fingers flexing. You hear the rustling of fabric, then feel Christopher set his hand on the back of your head.

You lean in, swiping your tongue over your lips. You feel Christopher’s hand slide from your head, down to your jaw. He grips your jaw, giving it a gentle squeeze, and your mouth falls open. It’s only a second before Christopher presses in. He’s harder than you thought he’d be, but the warmth and weight of his cock on your tongue is familiar, and oddly comforting. Your eyelids flutter closed at the feeling, and the taste. You shift closer between his legs, your belly pressing against the edge of his chair. You slide your hand to grasp his shaft, curling your fingers and pumping his cock as you begin to move in earnest.

You hear Christopher draw in a deep breath, and fight the urge to smile as his fingers smooth over your cheek. You take careful, even breaths through your nose as you draw Christopher deeper between your lips with each passing bob of your head. A little part of you is desperate to tip your head up, to search for that approving, sweetly warm and deeply aroused look on Christopher’s face—to take in the growing darkness of his eyes, and the smug curl of his lips. But you’re glad that you can’t look up. You can’t imagine the looks that you must be getting from the crew, the sneers and glares, and the jealousy that they must feel.

The thought makes you squirm on your knees, and you squeeze your thighs together. You feel Christopher shift, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You flounder as you feel him curl over you, his cockhead tapping at the back of your throat. You gag just a touch, fighting not to reel away. Christopher doesn’t let you get more than a few inches, anyway. He keeps his hand on your cheek, stroking your jaw, and tsking when you lean back just a touch too far.

You finally manage to draw back, sucking in a thick, sloppy breath. You feel Christopher swipe at the spill of spit at the corner of your mouth before he gives your cheek a couple of light, slick slaps, leaving your heated skin cooling in the air. You peer at the dark band of fabric, lips parted and panting as you wait.

Christopher doesn’t leave you there long. You feel him curl his fingers around the fabric of your top again, drawing you up onto your shaking legs. You think for a moment that your knees may buckle, but Christopher yanks you onto his lap before they can. Your hands slam against the back of the Captain’s chair, breath caught in your throat. You feel Christopher’s hands slide covetously up your thighs and under your skirt.

You want to fuss, and quibble. You can’t imagine how the crew must be watching now—eyeing your ass under your rising skirt, jeering or pointing, whispering to one another. But you don’t have time to dwell on it for long. Christopher eases his cock into you, drawing you more harshly onto his lap. Your jaw drops wide at the press of his thick cock. Your hands curl around the back of the chair as you adjust to the slight burn of the stretch. Your cunt throbs hotly around him.

Christopher smooths his hands around the globes of your ass, giving an encouraging squeeze. You begin to ride him slowly and carefully, wary of making too much sound, or exerting yourself before you’re adjusted fully. Christopher’s grip grows a touch tighter, and you roll your hips a touch harder, fingers flexing along the back of the chair. You hear Christopher sigh impatiently, and your stomach twists at the sound. You’re too scared to apologize—you don’t dare speak. Panic rises in you as you feel one of Christopher’s hands lift away from your body.

You wince against the flood of light. It takes your body a moment to adjust, and you squint. As the bridge properly comes into view, you find Christopher peering up at you with a wily grin. You can’t help looking around hurriedly, wary of your crew and their scorn.

To your utter shock, you find that everyone else on the bridge is blindfolded. Now and again, someone will tip their head back toward you, but they can’t see a blessed thing. You turn to Christopher to ask what he was thinking, but he grips your blindfold where it's fallen around your neck and yanks it up, tucking it between your lips. He reaches up, gripping the back of the gag and yanking it, forcing your mouth wider and shushing you softly. Without another warning, he grips your hip tightly and draws you down onto his cock.

Your eyelids flutter at the force of the feeling. You bow your head, forehead resting against Christopher’s. The odd whimper and whine hardly makes its way past your gagged lips. You can feel Christopher’s grip tightening on you as he drives his hips up against yours. You can feel your body going hot against him. Sweat beads along your forehead and gathers in the hollow of your throat. You shiver as Christopher turns his head into your neck. He draws in a deep breath and groans softly, sucking a plush kiss to your neck.

“Nearly,” He warns. You nod hurriedly, rolling your hips more harshly against his. Christopher raises a hand, pressing two fingers between your lips. You close your eyes, sucking them with the same vigor as you had his cock. After only a moment or two, Christopher draws his fingers from between your lips, lowering it to your throbbing cunt. It takes only a handful of well-placed swipes; it’s sensitive from its neglect, and the sudden slick onslaught. The whimper you let out is louder than the last. You expect a reprimand, but Christopher chuckles dryly, and murmurs, “That’s it.”

You’ve never been so acutely aware of the coiling feeling in your belly. You plant your knees more firmly on the hard chair, rolling your hips in almost laboriously slow circles. As your orgasm crests, you bite down roughly on your gag, groaning through the feeling. Christopher’s pace doesn’t slow for a second. His thrusts only grow more punishing as he uses your worn, spent body for his pleasure. You close your eyes as Christopher’s cock twitches and spills into you. His hips don’t still right away. He grinds up again—and again, and ag—ain—until he finally sags back in his chair.

Christopher raises his hand, gently prying the cloth from between your lips. He draws you in by the fabric, brushing his lips against yours. You let your eyes slide closed as Christopher’s other arm curls around you, pulling you against his firm chest. He tips his head back as the kiss breaks, eyes wandering your dazed expression.

“Go back to my quarters and wait for me,” He orders softly.

“Aye, Captain,” You whisper. You nod a touch, leaning back and bracing yourself on the arms of the chair, carefully avoiding the screens and buttons as you draw back from his cock. You glance around at the blindfolded crew once more before you dare to dart in, kissing him once more. Christopher indulges it, smiling a little. His gaze wanders you covetously as you stand, straightening your skirt. He nods over his shoulder with a wink, and you walk on shaky legs over to the turbo lift, trying to take the quietest steps that you possibly can. You step onto the turbolift, smiling as Christopher turns to ensure that you’re on fully before he turns back to the crew.

“Alright,” You hear him call out as the doors close, “Remove them.”

“I know you didn’t fall asleep.”

“No, Captain,” You mumble. Still, you don't lift your head from where you’ve rested it on your arms. You feel the bed dip beside you, and smile as you feel Christopher settle over you.

“Why are you still dressed?” He murmurs, dropping a kiss to your neck. “You didn’t tell me to get undressed.”

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Yes.” You glance back, opening a sleepy eye to find Christopher watching you curiously. “Thank you,” You tack on softly. He hums, sliding his hand down, gently patting between your legs. You groan softly, squirming against the heat of his hand.

“Lift your skirt,” He murmurs.

“Now?” You huff softly, stunned. “Again?”

“Do you trust me?”

Your answer to that question has yet to steer you wrong. You nod a little bit, and Christopher’s smile grows wide and sharp.

“Lift your skirt.”

Tag list: @wretchedwisteria ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @moonlightburned ; @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel

#Christopher Pike x Reader #Christopher Pike x You #Mirror!Christopher Pike x Reader #Mirror!Christopher Pike x You #Trust

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jansae · 2 months

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Gnreader x scaramouche school au

A little bit of A hate-filled relationship

Scaramouche was your bully since your elementry school, he's been bullying you nonstop since then, of course you were fed up with him bullying and embarrassing you infront of everyone, now you're in the last year of collage unfortunately scaramouche was also there like a magnet stuck in your ass. He was literally a pain in the ass, but one day it all changed he FINALLY CROSSED THE. LINE. He embarrassed you infront of your colleagues pushing you as you were walking down the hallway making the popular girl's cup of coffee fall down on your head covering all your clothes and books with the brown stain of coffee, everyone staring at you, as that blonde bitch started bragging about her so called expensive stained-t shirtshe was wearing. you stared back at scaramouche as he was snickering with his friends like he did something so good that he would be voted to be the president.. you got up like nothing happened as you pushed all the students away from your path to go to the washroom to clean up. You were so gonna take revenge on that motherfucker.

After walking down the hallway when scaramouche appeared behind you with his usual smug expression it was not a big deal since you were used to his stupid but handsome face (eheeh). "Well...well...well...look who is there all alone in the hallway huh?" Scaramouche said with his usual smug expression. You weren't scared of him, just....tired of his stupid shit. always tripping you or pushing you down the hallway. But your plan to take revenge on him made you smirk as you stared at him confidently. "So what...like you have real friends?~what do you want?" You asked as you mocked his frends hinting that they were all fake. Something inside you told you to move foreward so you did just that. Making him a little flustered from your sudden confindence boost. He slowly backed away, hitting his back on a random locker, since there was no one on the hallway this was the perfect opportunity to take revenge on him for what he did to you, you thought. you moved even further and locked your eyes with his gorgeous violet eyes. "Oh..I just love to take a big revenge on you" you smirked. "Oh shut up you think I'll be afraid of a bitch like you?" He scoffs. "Never" he spoke again while looking away from your eyes.

You then grabbed his chin making him look at you.

"What do you think you're doing bitch?" He spoke with a blush covering his face, clearly curious of what you were going to do. You then smirked while walking closer to him pinning him to the wall. the Height was clearly seen that he was taller than you obviously you were a girl, but he was so...so...urgh!. Arrogant? No. Attitude. Yes. That's the word. You just wanted to slap him and make him apologize for what he did to you. You groaned looking at him while placing your right hand on the locker trapping him, leaning closer, your hot breath almost hitting his already reddened cheeks, he gulped. then exhaling as if you were tired of him being all so bratty about everything which of course the truth, Placing a finger under his chin and lifting until his gaze was cleary on you. "Why do you bully me so much?"

How is he gonna tell you why just, he liked the attention and the glares that he gets from you when he does something bratty towards you. He just sighed and slapped your hand away that was trapping him. "J-just fuck off" he said pushing you off of him. Looking at him with a questionable and an irritated look, you groaned rolling your eyes, now he looked like an innocent person as if you just bulied him what the fuck is wrong with him.

"We'll see" you shouted as he sprinted down the hallway.

How ever two days went by

without him bothering you for some reason him not follwing you to dump a milkshake on your head kinda felt lonely well, he was the only one who had interest in you practically the whole school didnt like you, tch.. whatever you continued walkin down the hallway when you noticed a pair of voilet eyes looking at you of course you know who it was, scaramouche. Raising a brow when he avoided your gaze and walked faster to his class. "Did I make him uncomfortable?..

Nahh this is kinda cringe. I didnt have anything to do so this is my first post of this blog if you have requests ill be okay to write anything that lol...

#genshin imagines #scaramouche #bullying #genshin x you #standing up for yourself #confident #fem reader #submisive and breedable

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flickerfly · 3 years

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hi if u feel the need to tag any post that mentions the word "queer" being used in any context other than derogatory as "q slur" kindly unfollow me.

#weve been around this block before. stop speaking over queer voices due to a personal discomfort u may have #if you need it tagged then just tag it as queer its literally not that hard #i hate to be rude but yall constantly walk over people who use it in a positive light ALL the time and im tired of it #if its being used as a slur? yeah sure tag it as q slur #if its someones username or identity? yeah maybe dont #thats mega disrespectful #if youre not comfortable seeing the word then take a second and go into ur filters and put it there. i have to do that with my triggers too.#but youre crossing the line when you cover up everyone using the word by slapping q slur over it. its too common #it sucks to see as a queer person myself. like please #let me have my ID in peace you guys dont do this to gay people and say g slur

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bnhabadass · 3 years

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Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?” Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mob boss bakugou!!!#mafia au #mha mafia au #bnha bakugo #bnharem #bnharem collab #tw: dubcon #tw: alcohol #tw: overdose

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bakudekushimasimp · 3 years

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Pairings: katsuki bagukouxy/nxkirishima

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, threesome, vaginal sex, anal, DP, mild degradation, unprotected sex (wrap it, before you tap it), oral

Summary: you walk into their dorm while they’re comparing sizes 👀

*A/N: yes they are in a dorm but they are also aged up, however old reader thinks is appropriate for people to have sex at, I don’t see grown men comparing sizes so of course they’re still younger. (I’m thinking around 18) can be older! It’s all up to the reader!

Mina and you are walking down the hallway about to turn in for the night, discussing improving your quirks and how your internships have been going. Everyone was either already in their dorms, washing up, or chatting it up in the lounge area. You both pass by the boys restroom as Todoroki steps out in only a towel hanging on his hips. Mina, being the overly confident one, praises him for his fit figure and tells him she might need his ice quirk with how hot he’s made it in the hallway and it wasn’t because his fire quirk. Shouto’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as he slips past you two and crosses the hall to his dorm. You both continue walking as you both giggle at his cute reaction. Mina then decides to bring up the topic of who the cutest boy was in your class. You roll your eyes and look at Mina,

“Mina, we are not 13 anymore.” She only nudges you and laughs. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t thought of any of the guys being insanely attractive, or their quirk just interest you more than others..” You think about it as you watch your feet, and slow down your pace. Now that you thought about it you have been paying more attention to someone than usually. Not being able to take your eyes off them while training. Or in class. A blush creeps across your face and Mina shouts, “See! I knew you had a little crush on SOMEONE!” You jump and quickly tell her to quiet down. You did not want to draw attention to yourself. Before you can say anything Mina turns to you abruptly, “Y/n I totally forgot. Kirishima has my *insert subject* book from class he needed to borrow it to finish up some of his homework do you think you could grab it for me! I need it before tomorrow!” An image of Red Riot smiling flashes across your mind and you start to stutter, “I s-suppose.” She jumps a little and claps her hands. “Thank you y/n” she quickly gives you a hug, your now standing in front of her dorm room door. “I’m going to bed, but you can leave it outside my door I’ll grab it in the morning when I wake up!” You hesitantly smile, hoping that the boys weren’t busy or asleep so you didn’t disturb them over a silly book. Mina retreats into her room, as you turn around to head back towards the boys dorm.

You stand in front of there door hearing muffled voices on the other side. You figure it’s better to get it over with, and since they both seem more than awake you’d just grab the book and go. You take a breath and twist the door knob open.

Your breath catches in your throat and your mouth hangs slightly ajar. Your face turns a fiery red. Both Katsuki and Kirishima stand their with their manhood in their hands. It looked as if they were trying to compare sizes, you only heard a brief “mine is definitely bigger,” before they turnt to the side snapping their heads towards you. You never knew someone could be that big. Kirishima’s cheeks flush and he quickly pulls his shorts up and over his cock only leaving his perfect v line and a red trail to view. Katsuki still holds his and isn’t so quick to move but eventually tucks himself back into his sweatpants. “What are you staring at idiot!” He practically barks at you. “Never seen a dick before?” Your throat is so dry your eyes quickly shift to the floor and you simply croak out, “M-m-Mina sent me to get her book from Kiri.” You see Kirishima tense at your cute nickname you’ve always called him. Katsuki rolls his eyes and grunts plopping onto his bed. “Well.” You look up from your feet and make eye contact with Kiri. He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, “I guess I did forget to give that back to her,” he then turns walking to his desk and grabs the book. But before he could make it to you, to hand it to you, Bakugou stops him. “Wait,” you both turn and shift your attention to him. “so you obviously just saw us both just now when you walked in so..” you look down quickly twirling your thumbs around each other. Kirishima shifts back and forth on his feet feeling embarrassed by the whole situation. “Who looks bigger to you.” You stop twirling your thumbs at the same time Kiri stops shifting on his feet. You look up at Katsuki who is now leaned back smirking with both hands behind his head. You can’t help but look at his muscular arms twitch, and your eyes trail to his shirt that is lifted revealing a peek of his toned abs and blonde patch of hair that leads to the monster he was hiding in his sweatpants. You hurry and snap your eyes back up to his face where his smirk has now widened he knows what he’s doing, he licks his bottom lip and brings it under his teeth. His look sends a rush of heat straight to your core, dampening your panties. You then look to Kirishima who’s print is revealing itself in his shorts. He licks his lips, “You don’t have to answer that we all know the answer.” Katsuki sits up breaking his seducing pose and shouts “Oi!” You giggle and they both can’t help but let out a groan at the cute sound leaving your mouth, thinking of how nice your moan must sound. Katsuki’s cock twitches underneath his sweatpants and he stands and walked towards you like a lion prowling on its meal.

“We’ll see about that, Y/n can decide who genuinely has the bigger cock here.”

Kirishima tosses his book to the side and slowly approaches you never breaking eye contact as Katsuki makes sure the door is secured shut. Kiri comes up and gently cups your face and your legs start to tremble. Katsuki comes up behind you pulling his shirt off on the way, and soon enough you are pressed between both guys. Bakugou runs his hands down your arms and over your hips as Kirshima leans in only an inch or so away from your parted lips. Bakugou leans into your ear after places a few sloppy kisses up your neck, “tell us you want this..” your eyes are fixed on Kirishima’s and you can’t believe this is happening. “Y-y-yes.” Bakugou nibbles and your ear and then bites your shoulder leaving a love bite. “Yes what?” Kirishima is searching your eyes waiting for the words his erection raging underneath his shorts, he gently pressed it into your stomach as he is taller than you. “I want this, I want you, both.” You finally manage to get out. Katsuki hums into your skin as he grabs your ass and slides his hands around your thighs feeling all your curves. Kirishima takes the opportunity of your little moan to kiss you letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You both start kissing wildly and passionately as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment. Bakugou’s hand slips into your pants as he continues to leave his marks over your neck and shoulders, he feels just how wet him and his roommate have made you. “Already s’wet for us, you came here wanting to get fucked didn’t you, you little slut.” He pulls his fingers out of your pants covered in your slick and brings it up to where you and Kiri are lustfully exploring one another’s mouths. He pushes his finger in the mix of both of your tongues letting you both have a taste. You let out a whimper as Kirishima groans into your mouth. Katsuki pulls his finger back and takes it into his own mouth sucking in the mix of saliva and juices. “S’good” he groans as he pushes his erection into your ass.

Kirishima pulls away from you a string of saliva drawn between both of your lips. You look at him dazed with hooded eyes. He pulls your shirt over your head as Katsuki unhooks your bra from behind you and they let both pieces of clothing fall to the floor. Katsuki grabs your breast and squeezes tightly, “who knew you were hiding such a sexy body underneath that hero suit of yours, you’re always so shy and bashful but look at you turning into our little whore.” Katsuki slaps one of your breasts causing you to let out a whimper. Kirishima slips his shorts off along with his boxers and pumps himself with his fist watching as Katsuki plays with your hardened peaks. You rub your thighs together trying to give some type of relief to your aching sex. Bakugou makes eye contact with kirishima and it’s like they exchanged words because next thing you know Kiri was sweeping you up and bringing you to the bed. Kirishima lays you on the bed and helps you out of your remaining clothes, while Katsuki is removing his sweatpants and boxers from his godlike body. Kiri crawls between your legs letting your thighs rest on his as he spreads you out in front of him. You bring your hands over your eyes to hide your face and Kiri leans down next to your ear. “I’ve only dreamt of this happening, I can’t believe I can really enjoy you like this y/n. Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” You remember the length and girth of his member from early and all you can think is of how no matter how gentle he was he’d still tear you open. Your pussy clenches around air, your stomach in a knot.

Katsuki makes his way over to you and stands next to where your head lays on the bed. He strokes himself and reaches out removing one of your hands from your face. “Don’t be shy now.” Kiri takes your other hand and lets it run from his chest to his rock hard abs. You shutter at the feeling sending goosebumps up your body. You look at Bakugou’s stuff erection and watch the precum drips from his tip down his shaft. He lets go of your arm and grabs a fist full of your hair pulling you to the perfect angle. He slaps his member on your cheek, “open.” You look at him through your lashes and open letting your tongue roll out. He wastes no time shoving his cock into your mouth letting his head fall back at the sudden warmth. Kirishima kisses his way down your body to your core, but before ravishing you he doesn’t hesitate to leave some love marks/bites all over the insides of your thighs. You try to refrain from squeezing his head between your legs as he then licks straight up your slit and starts to suck on your swollen clit. You moan letting your eyes roll back, the vibrations around Katsuki’s cock driving him wild. He thrust in and out of your mouth matching your head bobs. Kirishima uses one of his hands to slip a finger into you to prep you for what was to come as his other hand went to work twisting your nipple and palming your soft tit. You were drenching his face as you reached your high, it seemed Bakugou was coming close to his as well. Kirishima added another digit to your cunt and curled his fingers pressing against your sweet spot. Your back arched off the bed and not much longer you were coming unraveled. As your throat opened and you hummed against Katsuki’s cock he took the opportunity to shove his entire length down your throat, thrusting into your face until he exploded forcing you to swallow every drop he gave you. He pulled out of your mouth and tapped you on the face wiping saliva and cum across your cheek. “You liked me fucking your pretty little face didn’t you slut.” You nodded your head yes licking your lips, kirishima came up from devouring you to bring you into another hot steamy kiss both of you tasting you and Katsuki on each others tongues.

Kirishima then rolled you both over pulling you on top of him. Your breast hovering over his face and his cock at your entrance. “Are you ready, y/n?” He then took a nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. You brought a hand up to tangle in his hair, and you stammered out “y-y-yes Kiri, I’m ready” he nipped at your nipple at released it from his mouth. He looked at you to check if there was any doubt in your eyes but all there was was the reflection of lust and desire. He slowly started to push himself into you and you could already feel the stretch. He placed his hands on your hips easing you down gently. There was pain mixed with pleasure. All your wetness from the orgasm made it a little easier. Katsuki was on the bed and had positioned himself behind you. He reached around and cupped one of your breast while the other hand rubbed circles over your clit creating more slick for kirishima to push himself into you. You eased yourself all the way down, letting Kiri bottom out in you. You moaned his name digging your nails into his chest. His quirk activating at the sensation making you moshing even louder as you felt him harden and pulse inside you. He pulled you down into a sloppy kiss. Katsuki took the opportunity to massage your bottom as Kiri started his movements thrusting into you. Suki spit letting it drip down onto your lower back he rubbed his thumb in it dragging it down to your puckered hole. He eased his thumb inside you stretching you. You gasped at the feeling of something penetrating you there. “You like that dirty slut?” He slapped your ass cheek with his other hand. You grinded yourself against Kiri moaning into his mouth. “I’ll show you who’s dick you like more, princess.” With that Kirishima broke the kiss and moved to your neck finding your sweet spot and not moving. Katsuki removed his thumb and ran his length up and down your ass. He eased himself into you giving you time to adjust. He groaned as you sucked him in to your tightness. Kirishima was panting as you had your mouth agape tongue hanging out. Kiri took two fingers and hooked them into your mouth as Bakugou reacted up and grabbed your throat bout of them penetrating you at the same time. The tension in your stomach built as you felt another release coming. Kiri’s thrusts we’re turning sloppy as he starting mumbling to himself. “Fuck…s’tight..you like taking both of us…our little slut..all ours.” Katsuki smirks and slams himself into you causing your back to arch higher. “Look at you bringing Red Riot to his knees.” You tighten around both of their cocks as you reach your release. Kiri squeezes your thighs hard as you clench down on him. You see spots of white as you squirt all over his cock and Katsuki’s balls.

Katsuki pulls out of your ass looking at the gaping mess he’s left you, grabbing your hair and pulling you up to his chest. He grabs your thighs and pulls your body off Kiri holding you as Kirishima gets up on his knees. Bakugou puts you back down on the bed, your knees and arms wobbling as you are on all four. “We’re not done with you yet, princess.” He grabs your hair and slips himself inside your drenched sex. “Fuck.” He moans bottoming himself out. You can feel your stomach bulge as he fills you up. Kiri swipes your hair out of your face and caresses your chin pulling your face up he gives you a lazy smile before licking his bottom lip and pushing himself to your mouth. As Katsuki starts to relentlessly pound into your walls he uses the grip on your hair to help you suck all your wet juices off his friends dick. You gag slightly as he forces your head completely down his length. Tears brim your eyes at the complete euphoria your body is going through. Katsuki shoves your head down several more times before kirishima throws his head back loudly moaning your name. He pulls out and paints his seed across your beautiful face. The sight pushes Bakugou over the edge and he releases his vice grip on your hair to dig his fingertips into your hips, he was sure to leave bruises. He sloppily pumped into you until he pulled out and fisted himself until he released all over your back.

You collapsed onto their bed making sure not to lay your face directly onto anything. Katsuki chest is heaving as he climbs off the bed, kirishima holding you somewhat in his lap. Bakugo grabs a towel and hands it to Kiri for you both to clean up while he cleans himself up. After you all are wiped clean you all lay on the bed. Your whole body is tingling and your mind is spinning. You lay between Dynamight and Red Riot amazed that you of all people just got to experience them both at the same time. You lay on Kiri’s chest as Bakugou rubs circles where he had just spread his seed on you only moments ago. Didn’t take him long to break the after care silence when he clears his throat, “So who do you think was bigger?”I

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scuttling · 3 years

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(Not So) Casual Friday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 4,456 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch (it's not a main component but he very much has the tummy here), Pining, Accidentally admitting attraction, Embarrassment, A little angst, Oral sex, Protected sex Summary: Your best friend Derek finds out about your feelings for Hotch and teases you mercilessly. You can manage it, though, until the first ever Casual Friday, when Hotch shows up to work in a black polo and jeans and you kind of ruin everything. Or maybe you don't? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Okay, girlie, today’s the day,” Derek says when you set your bag and coffee cup on your desk on Monday morning. You shoot your best friend a tired smile and wonder for the—you’ve worked at the BAU for almost two years, so it’s probably the 500th time—for the 500th time why he has to be such a morning person when you would prefer not to have a conversation until at least 10 AM.

“Today’s the day for what?” you sigh, asking out of obligation, because it’s obvious that’s what he’s waiting for; he smiles, picks up your coffee and hands it to you, which must mean you sound bitchy. You take a grateful sip, close your eyes and exhale through your nose.

“For you to admit to me that you’re in love with Hotch.”

You spit out your coffee—only all over yourself, which is great, wouldn’t want to inconvenience Derek at all—and then cough so hard he has to thump on your back to help clear your airway.

It draws some attention; Hotch comes out of his office, takes a look at the two of you and probably regrets hiring the both of you, then walks down the stairs to make sure you’re okay.

“What happened? You’re wet,” he says a bit gruffly, looking at the coffee all over your chest and sleeves. You glare over at Derek, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“Derek made me spill my coffee.” You grab a handful of tissues off your desk and pat at the wet spot, trying to soak up the worst of it, but it’s not salvageable. You’ll have to change your shirt.

“And then you… choked on it?” Hotch asks, to clarify. Derek does laugh at that; the things Hotch is saying happen to have dual meanings, slightly sexual, and now that Derek knows—thinks he knows—about your thing for Hotch, it’s clear he finds it all so hilarious. He’s a twelve year old boy in a grown man’s body.

“Okay, I didn’t spill, I spit,” you correct, looking up at them, and Derek makes an exaggerated face of disapproval.

“Should have swallowed,” he says, trying to sound serious, and you shoot him an irritated look and reach out to slap him in the chest. Asshole.

“Do you need help getting cleaned up?” Hotch’s expression is kind, sweet, but you’d sooner die than have him blot coffee off of your boobs. It would be mortifying, especially in front of Derek.

“No, no, I think I’m okay. Thanks,” you add with a soft smile, and then you reach up and pull your sweater over your head, unzip your go bag, and search for another top.

For some reason, Hotch has a coughing fit scarily similar to the one you just had, and you turn to pat his back like Derek did for you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, looking up into his face, and he nods despite his watering eyes.

“Fine,” he croaks, and he leaves as quickly as he came. You sigh, because it’s not even nine and your day has already been so weird.

You’re wearing a tank top, and thankfully the coffee didn’t get through to that layer, so it’s quick and easy to throw another lightweight sweater over top of it; you ball up the wet one, shove it in the dirty clothes portion of your bag, zip it up and stash it under your desk. Derek looks like he’s having the best day of his life.

“You realize you just undressed in front of Hotch,” he says with a tone you don’t appreciate. You roll your eyes.

“I did not. I had a tank top on underneath.” You almost always wear an undershirt, because you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes your clothes get torn or messed up in the line of duty, and you’re not trying to offer a free show while taking down an unsub. Derek wiggles his eyebrows, points at your chest.

“Yeah, one that put those little boobies on display. His eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character.” This time, you punch him in the arm, hard. It’s too goddamn early for this.

“Can you please shut up already? I don’t have a thing for Hotch.”

“Ah, I didn’t say you had a thing, I said you’re in love with him. And I have evidence; lots of it.” You tip your head back, groan, wondering what you did to deserve a best friend who is also such a pain in the ass, and it’s that moment that Hotch chooses to rejoin you; he looks a little flushed, probably from the coughing earlier.

“Uh. We have a case; I know not everyone is here yet, but you can head up to the briefing room, I’ll grab the others when they arrive.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you say easily, grabbing your tablet and what’s left of your coffee; you gesture for Derek and he follows, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, what is it now? I’m so glad you find me entertaining today.”

“‘Sure thing, sir,’” he says with a high, breathy voice you assume is supposed to mimic yours. “You want his dick so bad.” You narrow your eyes at him as you head upstairs.

“Uh, because I was being respectful? I know that’s a foreign concept for you, the world’s biggest asshole, but you don’t have to read anything into it.” You take your usual seats at the table, pull up the note-taking app on your tablet, and Derek sits back, crosses his arms behind his head.

“Well you’re not calling me ‘sir’, and I’m the sexiest piece in the office, so it’s hard not to read into it.” You look over at him, elbow on the table, chin in the palm of your hand.

“Sexy is subjective, and you don’t do it for me, sorry to break it to you.” He scoffs, laughs, and you laugh too because you both know you see each other as brother and sister, buddies, and fellow former cops, and absolutely nothing else.

“Yeah, I get it, only Hotch does it for you; he’s not my type, but I can see how a young lady like yourself could be drawn to his brooding exterior.”

“I’m not drawn to his exterior!” you practically growl, and then you’re joined by Spencer and JJ.

“Good morning. What’s going on with you two?” JJ asks, loading up the monitors for the debriefing, her eyebrows raised.

“She’s in love with Hotch,” Derek says completely nonchalantly, and you rest your head on the table, on top of your forearms, and sigh.

“She’s what?” JJ’s whole face lights up, and you seriously regret everything.

“I’m not in love with anybody!” you mumble against your arms, and then you sit up, because you’re clearly going to have to defend yourself. “And I’d appreciate it if you quit saying that I am.”

“I told you I have evidence,” Derek reminds you, leaning back in his chair a little. One swift kick would have him toppling ass over tea kettle, but you’re too nice, even when he’s actively trying to ruin your life. “Shall I go over it while we wait?”

“I’ll be an objective third party,” Spencer says with a brief smile, and you sigh, wave your hand toward Derek.

“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m sure I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever evidence you might think you have.” He grins like this is the moment he’s been waiting for, and you feel a little stupid for encouraging this.

“For one, you always look at him. When I’m delivering a profile, I notice you watching the locals, making sure they understand what we’re going over, since you're the queen of analyzing the micro expressions. But when Hotch is delivering a profile, your eyes are on him the whole time. Same goes for discussing theories on the jet; anyone else, and you’ve got your face in your tablet, scribbling notes, but you always look at him when he speaks.”

Your cheeks get hot. He’s a captivating speaker, is all, with that deep, velvety voice, and you can learn a lot from him, so you pay attention. That’s just being smart.

“Second, you tense when he gets close to you: not like you don’t want him to touch you, but like you’re halfway to jumping him already and trying to control it. I could probably put my hand in your pocket and you wouldn't even flinch, but if he leans over you to point at something you look like you’re about to cream your pants.”

“I have seen that, actually,” JJ offers, and you look over at her, betrayed. Sure, you get a whiff of his clean, crisp cologne, or feel the heat of him at your back, and your body reacts, reminds you that this is your boss and you’re at work and you can’t get turned on by the way he smells, but that’s actually a good thing, not an indicator of feelings or anything.

“Third, there’s something up with you and the gray suits. I can literally tell that he’s wearing one before I even see him, all because of the look on your face. It’s like you’re drunk on the gray suit.”

“Okay, that’s not true,” you say with a roll of your eyes—the gray suits are god tier, but there’s no way you’re that obvious—but it’s Spencer who speaks up, this time.

“You know, I have noticed that. Your pupils tend to be more dilated when his suit is gray or blue than when it’s black.” Fuck. You sigh.

“He barely ever wears the blue. It looks so good on him,” you murmur, and then you snap your eyes shut, cover your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“To be fair, we are profilers,” Derek says, leaning in to pat your back. “But also to be fair, he’s been a profiler longer than any of us, so if we know, he definitely knows.”

“Not helping, Derek,” you grind out, and then you’re joined by the rest of the team. Penelope takes the seat next to you, leans in with a worried tone of voice.

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s having a small crisis, but she’ll be fine,” JJ says with a smile, and you don’t miss the way Hotch looks you over when she says it, concern in his eyes. “Alright, so we’re headed to Arkansas…”

Later that morning, when you’ve been given your instructions—yours are heading to the crime scene with Emily and Derek—Hotch pulls you out into the hall, rests a gentle hand on your arm.

“Are you alright? JJ mentioned you were having a crisis earlier. This is the first time I’ve been able to get you alone, and I wanted to check on you.” You take a deep breath, look up at him, so handsome in a black suit, white shirt, green tie—he almost never wears a green tie, and you absently think it brings out the more golden tones of his eyes—and smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really nothing. Personal stuff, and I’m dealing with it.” If by ‘dealing with it’ you mean you’ve been repressing it, shoving it down day in and day out until your feelings are choking you, then yeah, you’re dealing with it. “Thanks for checking, though, that’s kind of you.”

“Of course. I’m here to help in any way I can, if you need me.” Good god, do you need him, emotionally, physically, but that’s fantasy, and this, what he’s offering, is rooted in reality. Good things do happen, but not to you.

“Thanks.” Your voice is weak to your own ears, and he swallows, nods; you see Derek hovering by the door, waiting for you, and you pull away to join him, plastering a smile on your face. You don’t talk about it again until Friday, and at that point it’s extremely unavoidable.

It’s Casual Friday, newly implemented by the bureau as a way to boost morale, and while it doesn’t really excite you, because you’re fairly casual anyway, others take full advantage of it. Others, including Hotch.

He shows up to work wearing a black polo and dark jeans, his usual watch. It’s easily the most simplistic, basic outfit a man could decide to wear on Casual Friday, but this isn’t just a man, it’s Aaron fucking Hotchner, and so naturally, you lose your damn mind.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the damn polo didn’t fit him perfectly, tight across his shoulders and chest and the little tummy he has that makes you want to be under him so badly, your stomachs pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly, his strong thighs working against yours…

“Hello, are you alive in there?” Emily asks, waving her hand in front of your face; the two of you, along with Derek, are in Penelope’s office for lunch while Rossi, Reid, and JJ are out of the office for a seminar. You blink, shake away your thoughts and hope and pray they don’t come back—but they’ll come back, they always do.

“She’s just short circuiting because of Hotch’s Casual Friday look,” Morgan says with a wink, sitting backward in his seat. “She’s been drooling so much I’ve had to follow her around with a mop to clean up after her.” You push your wheeled chair away from them with a groan, needing space and air and, potentially, a brain transplant. You’ve gotten nothing done all day long.

“Can you blame me? The man comes in here everyday, buttoned up tight, looking incredible in a suit and tie, and then he shows up in that black polo, all snug and hot and delicious, and you expect me not to freak out? You guys are lucky I didn’t pass out.” You’re met with silence, and you blink, confused, at your friends, but they’re all just kind of staring with looks of barely concealed humor. “What? It’s not like it’s a secret that I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Pretty sure it was a secret to him,” Penelope says, looking shocked, and you whip around in your chair to see Hotch standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I, uh—” He raises a hand, waves you off.

“It’s okay. No harm done; thank you, for the, uh. Compliment.” He steps forward, hands a manila folder to Penelope. “Thanks for taking care of these,” he says softly, and then, unsurprisingly, he gets the hell out of there. You wish you could disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter when he’s gone, leaning forward with your head in your hands. “That’s it, I’m quitting. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“Okay, don’t be dramatic,” Derek says, and you look up to glare at him; he’s the one that started all this in the first place. You were fine, feelings tamped down and suppressed, until he brought it up and then told everyone you know.

“Don’t tell me not to be dramatic, Derek! This is all your fault. You never respect my boundaries, you never know when to just let me be, you always have to pick and pick until you wear me down. Maybe I had a reason for wanting to keep my feelings private, did you ever think of that?”

“I know you're upset,” Emily begins softly, because there’s some pretty thick tension between you and Derek now, but you stand up, push your chair across the room, and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m fucking humiliated. I’m going home; let him know I’m sick, will you?” You exhale deeply, storm upstairs and grab your stuff and drive home with tears in your eyes. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life, and add that to the absolute heartbreak you’re feeling? You’re just happy you make it to your apartment, so you can break down with cheesecake and a sappy, romantic comedy with a happy ending: those perfect, fictional worlds are pretty much the only place one is guaranteed. You are, as planned, hunkered down on the sofa in your softest pajamas, watching You’ve Got Mail and eating the center out of an entire cheesecake with a spoon when there’s a knock at your door. You groan, pick up your cheesecake tin, and walk over to it, fully expecting it to be Derek come to beg for forgiveness for ruining your life, so it’s no surprise you drop your dessert on the floor when it’s actually Hotch on the other side.

He looks down at the tin, then up at your face, cracks the barest hint of a smile.

“I thought you were sick; I brought soup,” he says, holding up a paper bag, and your heart thumps in your chest. You wipe a hand over your face, because you haven’t been exactly neat in your heartache cheesecake consumption, and then you kick the tin across the floor and invite him in, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it was obvious that I wasn’t actually sick, just… really embarrassed,” you say when he turns back to look at you. “I can’t believe you heard all that stuff I said… I’m really sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You take the bag from his hand and invite him to follow you into the kitchen, where you set it on the counter, lean against it. He comes close, but not so close you can’t function, which is good; your comfy pajamas are shorts and a loose tank top, so you feel a little exposed already.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says softly, and you frown, must have heard him wrong. He presses his fingertips against the counter, as if for support. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was… unexpected,” he explains, “very unexpected, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

You flush hot, and you can feel the bad decision part of your brain switching on, warning bells ringing in your head.

Whatever you do next has the potential to be extremely stupid, and you would like to avoid that at all costs; you love your job, after all, despite how physically and emotionally exhausting it can be, and you love your team. Time to think with your upstairs brain only.

“That makes me feel a little better,” you say truthfully, and despite the pep talk you just gave yourself, you move closer to him like there’s an invisible magnetic force between you; you would imagine a guy like Hotch would step back, keep his distance, but he only cranes his neck a little so he can look down at you more easily.

God, he’s tall. And he smells good, and his face is perfect, and that goddamn polo...

“Good, I’m glad. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I’m not uncomfortable, it’s not… it’s not unwanted.” You swallow audibly, looking up at him, wondering if he knows what he’s saying, what it sounds like.

“It’s not?” you ask, and it comes out breathy; he takes a small step closer to you, brushes his fingers over your arm, peers into your eyes.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking of you, too; I know you know you’re beautiful, but you’re also so smart, and strong-willed, and a force to be reckoned with. I’m proud to have you on my team, and I’d be proud… to have you climb me like a tree.” He smiles again, just the barest hint of one, and you put your arms around him and pull him closer for a kiss.

One long, slow, perfect kiss turns into another, then another, and he presses your back against the counter, his hands on your face and your hands on his thick waist; you hum into the kiss, revel in the feel of his lips on yours, his tongue sweeping past them, and when you pull back for air it feels like there’s only one question that needs to be asked.

“Bedroom?” you breathe, and he nods, and you take his hand and pull him in that direction, pausing to kiss him several times before you get there. “You don’t happen to have a condom, do you?” you ask, breathless, guiding him to the bed, and he frowns, shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” You grin at that, lean forward and kiss him, your fingers in his hair.

“I find it so hot that you even say presumptuous. I might have one here somewhere.” You open your nightstand, move around books and toys until you find a couple; you flip them over, checking to see if they’re expired, and offer him a couple options. “They’re still good, surprisingly. You can, uh. Choose the one that would work best.”

He looks them over, picks one and hands back the rest, and you throw them back in the drawer and slide into his lap, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, holding your waist as you look down at him, completely in awe that this is happening. “But I want to clarify: if you’re looking for something casual, I don’t think we should go any further.” You inhale softly, surprised by his straightforwardness, and you lean in, kiss him slowly.

“I don’t want casual. I want to be with you.” His eyes are so brilliant, dark in the dim light of your bedroom, and he nods, presses his lips to yours and slides his hands beneath your top, guides it over your head. Then they move to your shorts, slipping them gently off your hips, and you stand so he can push them to the ground.

You’re both breathing heavily, a little rough, and you step between his legs, kiss him again, run your hands down his chest, closing your eyes with a sigh because you finally get to feel him after a year of just imagining what it would be like. After a beat, you open your eyes, look into his, smile.

“Really grateful for Casual Friday,” you whisper. “Otherwise you might never have found out I’m kind of in love with you.” You ease the polo over his head, drop it on the ground and encourage him to stand so you can take off his pants; he does, but before you can drop to your knees as planned, he takes your face in his hands, presses one soft kiss against your mouth.

“I’m more than kind of in love with you.” Oh, if that isn’t the greatest sentence your ears have ever heard… You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss a little more, forgetting that you planned to finish undressing him; when you remember, you make quick work of it, then have him lay back against the bed and settle between his legs.

You put your mouth on him because you want to, more than anything, and his hand drops to your hair, caressing you while you suck slowly, deeply, holding him with one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other. His moans are soft and gorgeous, his body tense beneath your hand, and you’d do this all night, but he murmurs your name, coaxes you up, puts his hands on your back as you settle against him.

“You’re so incredible. I never would have imagined I’d get this, get you,” he breathes, skimming his hands over your sides and hips, and you kiss softly, steamy and sweet.

“Me neither.” You lean up, make space for him to roll on the condom, and then press him inside; your breath hitches, and so does his, and you lay on top of him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, arms around each other tightly while you move. “Hmm. Aaron,” you sigh, hair falling around him, and he groans, digs his fingertips into your hips.

“Sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.” You smile, but it slips away when he surges up to kiss you, leans up so he’s sitting with you in his lap. He slides a broad hand up your back, wraps it around the nape of your neck, and pumps his hips up as you sink down, eliciting a series of soft, eager moans from the both of you.

“Feels like I’ve waited so long; I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I wanted you,” you tell him, chest heaving, and he brings you to him for a kiss, something a little rougher, less refined. He’s getting close.

“Never. You make me feel so much.” You reach back against his leg for support, work harder to bring him off, and when he comes he crushes his mouth against yours, delicious and more uncontrolled than you’ve ever seen him. He chants your name, so soft and sweet rolling off of his tongue, and then gets you on your back so he can press deeply inside.

You feel so incredibly full, panting beneath him, your hands on his waist and your feet on the backs of his thighs; his perfect face is inches from yours, all shallow breaths and decadent, passionate kisses, and when you climax you pull him closer, sigh, unravel completely in his embrace.

Maybe good things do happen after all. You hold each other and talk for a while, after a quick pitstop to the restroom, and then your stomach growls—understandably, since the only thing to fill it since lunch was that stupid cheesecake—and Hotch orders takeout on his phone from bed; god bless technology.

There’s a knock at the door twenty minutes later, and you know that’s quick for your favorite Thai place, but you’re not complaining because you’re officially starving. He offers to grab it, throws on his boxers and heads for the living room; after a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking so long, pull on your robe and go to check on him.

Hotch is talking to Derek, who is standing in your living room with a piece of cheesecake and a shit eating grin.

“I came with a peace offering, but now I think I’ll wait for a, ‘Thank you, Derek,’” he says, and you roll your eyes, stalk over and take the cheesecake out of his hands. You give it to Hotch, lean up to kiss Derek on the cheek, and push him toward the door.

“Thank you, Derek. Go away, Derek,” you say with a smile of your own, and he raises his palms and retreats down the hall, laughing as he goes.

This is just one more thing he’ll tease you mercilessly about, but this time the benefits outweigh the costs. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #dad bod hotch

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captains-simp · 3 years

Text

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

Includes: dom!Carol, captain kink, brat taming, choking, degrading, fingering, edging, nipple clamps, clit clamp, thigh riding, spanking enhanced with powers, vibrator enhanced with powers, strap-on gagging and choking, strap-on sex and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn't meant to fuck up Carol's mission. You weren't that petty. But the look on her face when you disobeyed her direct order and took the shot was priceless.

You and Carol had never gotten on. The first time you laid eyes on her you were infuriated by her actions. The second time you met only amplified that.

You had been under cover for a year when she came along and screwed up your mission. It had taken a long time to be trusted by those you 'worked with'.

You had set up a buy with a huge advanced (and crazy irresponsible) weapons smuggling ring that would lead to you obtaining more of their weapons for SHIELD until eventually, hopefully, you would figure out the secrets to their operation and be able to take down the business.

Just as the dealers arrived at the abandoned warehouse Carol came flying in to take on the armed men, oblivious to the mission that was happening, in all her heroic glory.

"We got the weapons, it was a success."

After writing out the report and having a long convosation with Fury (most of which involved you describing Carol in ways Steve would have been outraged by) you had at least expected an apology from the blonde. You could still remember how that went down.

"It was not a success!" You almost screamed at Carol. It infuriated you to no end that after half an hour of talking she still didn't see the bigger picture. She really thought she had done the right thing.

"Yes we got the weapons - something I could have done on my own - but that's such a small part of the rest of what they're making."

"You don't know how much there is." Carol said, her voice as calm as ever as she leant against Fury's desk with her arms crossed.

"That's the point." You said through gritted teeth, determined not to loose your cool infront of her and Fury. "My mission was to find out and put a stop to it."

"There are guys in holding. They'll talk."

You almost laughed at that. "If I could ask them my way they definitely would." You silently cursed SHIELD's moral codes that stopped you from torturing the answer out of them. They wouldn't talk any other way.

"They'll talk." Carol said stubbornly. "And anyway, you should be thanking me for cutting your mission short."

And that was it. From that moment on you couldn't look at the woman without wanting to slap her. That had been months ago.

Despite you never hiding your dislike for Carol she never seemed to mind you. In fact, she tried to be around any chance she could. Always looking for ways to get on your final nerve, everything she did she did for your reactions that you had grown worse at suppressing.

You took some of it out on her during training. It bothered her but thrilled you that you too were on the same level in combat. Apart from the times she was a sore looser and used her powers.

But you had made a strong effort to avoid training with her too. She taunted you during fighting. Although you were used to it it struck different when her body was pressed against yours to pin you to the floor.

Your most shameful day was when her actions had sent a jolt to your core that you couldn't deny.

Carol looked down at you with an insanely arrogant smirk as she straddled your waist. She was always like this in her moments of victory, always wanting to rub it in.

"Wow, you gave in quickly today." She quipped, not even trying to hide the obvious undertones. That didn't even make sense!

You weren't about to give in when she looked so god damn smug. You gripped her shirt with two hands and lifted your hips to flip her off but she caught on both too quickly and too late. She lurched forward into your grip but instantly pinned your hands above your head as her legs fell down next to yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realised her face was inches from your own, it was only then that you become aware of the darker specs of brown in her eyes that highlighted the lighter shades. They were beau- okay. They were okay eyes. Yours were better.

The corner of her mouth raised in her familiar smirk that you always despised. But being that close brought light to how soft her lips looked. They were slightly parted and you wondered what kind of things she could do with that mouth. Professional things of course. Strictly professional and tactical thing. Not sinful things at all...

You wanted those thoughts banished from your head immediately. You wanted to leave.

All too hastily, you tried to raise your hips again, only then noticing how Carol's new position had her core right over yours. The contact and friction was undeniable, as was the slow throbbing that started.

A quiet moan slipped from your mouth that you desperetly coughed to cover up. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see if Carol had noticed.

"Get off me, Carol." You huffed, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"What? You don't like me ontop of you?" She smirked.

God you definetly did.

As much as you tried to ignore that memory and replace it with the time you were first introduced you rarely succeeded. And even then it was like your hatred for her only encouraged how much you wanted to feel her deep insi-

"Are you even listening to me?!" Carol yelled at you with a glare. You never zoned out during meetings. Carol knew that. Fury knew that. Yet it was still very clear you just had.

"Are you done rambling?" You quipped, not having a moment to place the filter over your mouth as the thought spilled out.

Fury arched a brow at the question and Carol's jaw clenched in an annoyingly attractive way. You did not regret that one bit.

"If I hadn't taken the shot the hostages would have died."

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

There had been some sort of detonator with the man holding the hostages. Once dead, the storage he had loaded into his truck had been destroyed and nothing was salvageable. That was important cargo, but you always put a priority on lives. Taking the bad ones more than saving the good ones admittedly.

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

"I don't think you understand how valuable that cargo was."

The meeting continued like that for a while. You would never admit it to anyone, especially as fucking up the mission wasn't intentional, but seeing how the tables had turned from the last time the three of you were in that office? It made you happier than it should have.

You guessed the two of you were even now. Maybe she would finally leave you alone. Your happiness faulted at that thought.

Finally, Fury told you and Carol to go and that it would be discussed again tomorrow. He was clearly tired. It had been a long day and it was late, everyone else was already asleep.

Even as you trudged down the hallway Carol continued to rant about your inability to follow orders. You would be the first to admit you weren't a team player. You still weren't used to it. But you always follow orders.

"I can follow orders, Captain. I just choose not to follow yours." You said calmly as approached the hallway towards your room.

You hated that Carol's room was next to yours. You had been there when Carol had talked to Tony about staying at the Avengers compound. You had seen her sly smirk as she pointed out on the compound map which room she wanted. Knowing full damn well it was next to yours.

How long did she plan to keep this up? You definetly didn't bug her about her screw up as long as she was you. Why couldn't she just hold the grudge in silence like you?

"You put aside personal matters when you go on a mission, y/n." She continue to scorn.

"Not personal, Captain. I just know when a decision and order is bullshit." Your room finally came into your line of sight. Just a few more meters.

"It wasn't bullshit. It was the right call. You just refuse to do what I tell you to." You rolled your eyes at her insistence, something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"The whole thing would have been fucked if I followed your orders. You should be thanking me." You taunted with a smile. But before you could fully bathe in your victory of getting under her skin, Carol gripped your neck tightly and slammed you into the wall.

You eyes widened as your back hit the wall painfully and you struggled to comprehend that Carol's hand was really around your neck...and you liked it.

"What? Got nothing to say to your Captain now?" She smirked. A familiar jolt travelled throughout your body and rested between your legs at her words.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Her hand, her words and the tone that accompanied them. You could always tell Carol was a top, but a dom?!

"If I could go back..." You started, your voice quiet with an edge of fear that made Carol preen. "And do the mission again...." Carol watched your face intently, awaiting your words of apology. "I still wouldn't follow your orders. Because I don't take orders from yo-" Carol stepped forward and forced one of her legs between yours.

You bit you lip to stop yourself moaning at the friction she was causing, the urge to grind against her leg was strong.

"Brat." She whispered with poison dripping from her voice. Her warm breath hit the small area of skin her hand wasn't covering and her hair tickled you chin.

"I have just the thing to deal with that. You wont be keeping up that facade for long."

You were about to object and assure her you would. That your stubbornness was just as strong as hers and you had been down this road before with others.

As she moved away from you she gripped your shirt in her closed fist and pulled you away from the wall with her. You hated that you instantly missed the contact of her thigh between yours. But her rough nature was doing it for you too. It had been so long since someone had been rough with you and you yearned to feel that again.

Carol had barely opened her door when she pushed you through the gap into her room. You were about to take in your surroundings and even pause to assess what was happening, but Carol's hands were on you again and all doubt slipped from your mind.

The next thing you knew your face was engulfed by soft pillows before you felt Carol's strong presence above you.

You could feel her knees on either side of your waist, pressed against you as though caging you beneath her. Her hands entwined with the back of your own and held them above your head under the pillows.

You went to move your hips up out of instinct from your training but Carol was too strong. She didn't even flinch from you efforts, clearly overpowering you in strength.

You reminded yourself you would not, under any circumstances, let Carol win.

You wouldn't apologise for the mission, wouldn't do what she said and you would not fully submit to her. It was something you truly believed, Carol knew this and it made everything you eventually did all the more worthit.

You could never imagine or anticipate the things you would let her do to you that night or the desperate way you would beg her to do them.

Her hair tickled your exposed neck as she leant down to whisper into your ear. "Anything you want to say to me before I begin? Perhaps an apology?" Carol questioned, knowing you would say no such thing but wanting to have more ammunition for later on.

You chuckled into the pillows before replying. "Go fuck yourself." It was muffled. But Carol understood.

She didn't reply verbally, instead she leant further against your body as her hands left yours and wandered down your arms.

Carol inhaled the scent around your neck as her hands reached your shoulders and decended to trace your collarbones that were visible from your shirt being lowered.

The blonde took her time memorizing every inch of your body, especially cupping your clothed breasts in her hands and ever so slightly grinding herself against you as she did so.

You reminded yourself to control your breathing as you felt those motions, not allowing yourself to be caught up in the firm grip of her hands against your breasts or the way she used your body to gain some friction to her core.

Her hands continued to massage your lower stomach, admiring the feel of your finally formed abs in a way she never could when you trained.

You kept your head amongst the pillows when her fingers danced around the waistband of your trousers. You didn't want Carol to see the anticipating look on your face at the touch of her fingers. They barely dipped half an inch beneath your trousers and panties but the contract gave you chills. You wanted to feel her against your bare skin more.

Carol retracted her fingers and instead wordlessly moved them to the centre of your trousers and unbuttoned them. You could hear her pull your zip down in the deafening silence of the room and you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation again.

She didn't hesitate once in her movements. With undeniable certainty, Carol slipped her hand under your trousers and panties to meet the space between your legs that welcomed her.

Carol sighed into the crook your neck as her fingers met your wetness between your slick lips. You bit your lip to stop any sounds escaping your mouth as the arrogant hero swiped a single finger slowly through your eager folds. She collected the arousal on her fingers before pressing it firmly to your clit.

Your hips rolled into her hand before you could stop them and the action caused a smug grin from Carol that although you couldn't see, you could feel against your skin. It was considerably worse and amplified your arousal as Carol could tell.

You hated feuling her ego. You hated that she had made you so wet your throbbing clit would slip around her fingers when she had barely touched you.

"Such a wet little brat. You're so ready for me and I've barely touched you." Carol husked as her finger continued to alter between running through your folds and rubbing your clit lightly.

It took every ounce of self control in your body not to squirm against her or make any noise. Your pride helped you keep those actions at bay.

Carol gripped your chin with her free hand and turned your head away from the pillow. You tried to avoid making eye contact with the blonde, knowing it would make your self control waver, but her hand continued to guide your line of sight to her enchanting gaze.

Her face was so close to yours you were completely caught off guard when Carol's finger pushed inside you and was engulfed by your lower lips with ease.

You bit your lip hard at the action, still staring into Carol's eyes and refusing to be the one to look away first. The intense eye contact did you no favours in holding off your verbal signs of arousal, especially when her single digit curled to brush your most pleasurable spot.

You gave a breathy moan when Carol held her finger against your g-spot for a long moment before withdrawing it, your eyes marginally widening as you adjusted to the pleasure, something Carol wouldn't have noticed if your faces weren't so close.

Her finger pushed back in at a slow pace but always stroked the back of your pussy in an angelic way.

You moaned louder when Carol returned with two fingers, the additional surface area made the experience all the more pleasurable and you feared how quickly you would cum.

Carol studied your facial expressions as she fingered you slowly, figuring out the spots that made you preen in pleasure the most and even the best angles to approach it.

It didn't take her long to understand the eb and flow of your pussy better than anyone ever had. With this powerful knowledge, Carol's pace suddenly increased in an overwhelming way you could barely adjust to.

She fucked you hard and fast with her fingers. Her wrist twisted in the most agile ways that caused her fingers to burry deep within you.

You moaned continuously as you stared into Carol's brown eyes you were beginning to remember better than your own.

The pleasure was immense and you knew your orgasm would hit you hard. Your breathing became rapid and your walls clenched down on Carol's fingers desperetly as your body prepared for your release.

Carol's fingers increased in pace as she gripped your chin harder, ensuring you look at her as her smirk finally returned.

Just as you were about to explode around Carol's fingers she retracted them from your throbbing pussy and brought them up to her lips as she grinned at you.

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

"What? You didn't really think I would let you cum so soon did you? You haven't earned the right. Unless, of course, you'd like to make an apology." Carol said as her eyes bore deep into yours.

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

Carol clicked her tongue in disapproval before finally looking away from you. Her fingers returned to your waistband, only this time she pulled your trousers down swiftly, deliberately leaving your soaking panties clinging to you.

She then got off the bed and strolled confidently towards her walk in closet for a few seconds, returning with a few pieces of metal you weren't surprised to be seeing yet still gave you goosebumps. Carol's keen eyes seemed to notice this and she grinned knowingly to herself.

You shifted onto your side to get a clearer view of the devices attached to the long silver chain, once Carol reached your side she roughly forced your shoulder down so you were laying on your back.

"You're very pushy you know?" You quipped as Carol moved to straddle you hips and placed the metal beside you.

Her jaw clenched tightly in annoyance of your words but she didn't look at you, instead running her hands along your lower abdomen beneath your shirt. Seeing her frustration at you, especially the slight heavy exhale through her nose very few would notice, helped you control the urge to shiver under Carol's touch.

"I hope you can do other things with that mouth of yours besides bitching, for your own sake." Carol said lowly before gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

"It can work wonders," you winked at her with a grin, "and it's nice to know you care, Captain, not just a big, mean, dom I see."

Carol's hand wrapped tightly around your throat just as you finished your sentence. She glared at you with clear rage in her eyes, a look that made putting up your hard front difficult. You had a strong urge to apologise, but you instead pushed it aside.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to go ease on you at any point you are sadly mistaken, brat. I'm not done with you until you're a begging, quivering, pathetic mess that's forgotten her own name and only knows her Captain. Even then I won't take any pity because of the shit you keep pulling. Whores dont deserve sympathy." Your breathing was shaky as the words dripped from her mouth laced with poison, threatening to be the end of you.

You were made acutely aware of her grip of your neck tightening and her ability to cut it off and never let you breathe again. You weren't sure at what point you had given over all control, but you didn't want it to stop.

Carol leaned in next to your ear and her scent enveloped your sences again. Her voice had dropped considerably when she next spoke her whispered words. "I can't wait to break you." She bit down on your ear harshly making you yelp. You couldn't deny the effect she was having on your body, she could see it too. Of course she could, she was playing you like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a thrilling realisation.

Carol pulled away from you slowly while you tried to return your breathing to it's normal pace. It wasn't until you heard Carol's deep chuckled that you realised that your eyes were clenched shut. You opened them to see the blonde looking very proud of herself and the result she had gotten.

You couldn't make another witty remark. Your brain couldn't form any kind of coherent thought and you wouldn't have trusted your mouth to deliver it. Besides, after what Carol had just said, you were afraid to speak out of term again.

The self-certain hero reached around your back to unclasp your bra as her other hand came to rest on your stomach, pressing down as she used it for support while she leant forward.

Carol's eyes eagerly took in every inch of your skin the moment it was exposed. She slowly pulled your bra away before flinging it across the room without taking her eyes off of your breasts.

The cold air hitting your skin made your nipples strain in a want for attention, although you and Carol both knew that wasn't the only reason. Carol hummed at the sight and leaned forward again to rub your buds between her thumb and fingers. Your head leant back into the pillows at the attention, sighing in bliss before you hissed sharply at the the spark of pain.

The blonde smiled in amusement as she continued to pinch your nipples harshly, you didn't protests out of stubbornness.

Carol then picked up the forgotten clamps next to you, trailing the chain slowly and deliberately over your sensitive skin. She attached the left clamp with a silent concentration that filled the room with tension. You hissed again as Carol adjusted the screw to the level she saw fit, which was scarily tight, before moving to the next with the same accuracy.

You closed your eyes and tried not to enjoy the throbbing pain on you nipples, but the growing slick between your legs was telling enough.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard to suppress a whimper, failing when Carol gave the chain a quick tug that made you give a strained whimper that sounded more pathetic than it would have if you hadn't tried to stop it.

Carol moved further down your body and spread your legs apart so she could sit between them. You could feel the chain extending down your stomach so you opened your eyes in confusion and instantly squirmed.

The two clamps had separate chains that looped around a small ring that lay on your stomach, twinkling mischeviously in the light. There was a third chain on the bottom of the ring that had a clamp at the end of it. A clamp that Carol was guiding dangerously close to your still covered core.

You had had experience with clamps before, but the thought of one pinching painfully at your throbbing clit was one you were unfamiliar and uncertain with.

Carol adjusted herself according to your newfound protests to kneeling on your legs, each knee digging into each of your thighs as a show of control. Your hands were still free and just as you were about to sit up Carol spoke with a fake pout.

"Aww, do you not think you can handle this? Are you too sensitive?" She mocked making you freeze. "I can always stop if you want me to. All you have to do is say the magic word." The blonde continued to taunt.

Your pride screamed at you to make some snarky remark as to protect your ego, knowing saying 'please' would lead to you spiralling down the rabbit hole you refused to step foot in, while your fear begged you to stay quiet. But there was also a small part of you that was eager to experience the pleasurable pain the clamp would surely deliver to your clit.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep an eye on Carol in your peripheral while appearing to ignore her.

She smirked, unbeknownst to you, at your pettiness and trailed a single finger against the wet patch on your panties. You struggled to continue looking at the ceiling and bucked your hips to try and meet Carol's hand.

Surprisingly, Carol let you and even pressed further against your panties, rubbing your clothed lips and relishing in the effect she had on you.

Carol teased you like that for a while, rubbing her finger against your soaking folds before circling your throbbing clit. Every so often she received a quiet whine from you that flooded you with embarrassment, hating how your body betrayed you and pleased Carol.

Finally, Carol pulled your ruined panties down and gleamed at the sight of your glistening folds, the view making her pussy clench around nothing and ache more than it had all night. An idea sprung to mind and she smirked at the thought.

She took the third clamp between her long fingers and pinched at your clit. You yelped and bucked your hips up again as Carol entrapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So responsive." She muttered, more to herself than you, as she slowly twisted the screw. Her eyes returned to your pained face as she adjusted the tightness, studying you to see when you would reach the peak of your pain and your limit.

Your face scrunched up at the sharp pain that jolted throughout your body and made you whine lowly as you turned your head to the side and tried to squirm away.

Carol took another glance at your strained bud, biting her lip at the sight, before gripping your under arms and flipped you onto your back.

You were surprised and caught off guard but all questions flew from your mind when you were pushed against the mattress, the clamps pressing down and amplifying your pain.

A tear formed in your eye as your nipples burned hot in pain and your clit ached against its restraint. You whined and tried to squirm away, the inch you did move only made things worse as your dragged the clamps and the skin they pinched across the mattress. You gave a small cry at the pain but pushed your face into the pillows to muffle it, still trying with everything you had to not let Carol win.

You were so caught up in the unnatural pain you didn't even notice Carol stripping herself of her jeans and pants. But you did notice when you felt her wet pussy lips come into contact with the back of your thigh.

You brain short circuited when you felt how wet she was and that she was slowly rocking herself on your leg, using your body to get herself off.

"What are you-"

"Quiet." Carol cut you off by demanding as her hands locked yours to the top of the mattress again.

Her arousal was spreading across your thigh as she grinded against you.

You could feel your own breathing increase rapidly as you heard Carol gasp out occasionally. You wanted to see her. You wanted to see the look of pleasure on her face as she approached her high. What did she look like cuming? Did you feel good against her? Would she ever let you make her cum with your fingers or tongue. You prayed desperetly that you would someday get the chance.

"Fuck." Carol moaned breathlessly. Your own pussy clenched around nothing at the sound and you knew that while Carol was getting her wetness over your thigh, you were getting your own on her bed.

Carol's grip on your hands tightened as her movements became more erratic, chasing her release.

"Your Captain's gonna cum on your thigh, brat. Such a good fuck toy for me to use." A moan slipped past your lips at her words. You cursed yourself for giving the reaction Carol wanted, helping her frantic movements.

"Oh you like this, slut? You like being my little fuck toy for me to use whenever I want?"

You desperetly searched for friction on the bed covers as you whined, only to accidently apply more overwhelming pressure to all 3 clamps.

Carol's cunt dug harder into the back of your thigh as she came with a low moan, coating your skin with the evident of her orgasm.

Surprisingly, Carol didn't move from your thigh as she brought a soft hand around to the soaking space between your legs. She tugged momentarily on the clamp there and you whimpered in protest making her snicker.

She fingers teased your lower lips as she spoke. "You seemed to enjoy that just as much as I did." Carol smirked arrogantly as her fingers swiped at your arousal. "Answer me." She demanded, delivering a smack to your ass to punctuate her words.

You didn't. Instead your breathed into the pillows and tried not to think about how they smelled like Carol in an annoyingly soft way.

Carol spanked you again harshly, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the last.

"No." You lied shakily.

"Don't lie to me. You're only adding to your punishment, not that I mind. It's just drawing out the fun I'm having. Being a lying little slut gives me something else to fuck out of you too." Carol spanked you again as those words left her lips. She gripped your hips tightly and pulled you up so your ass was on full display to her.

When Carol's hand returned to your ass her hand was considerably warmer. You thought it was strange at first until she did it again, this time burning hot.

You moaned into the pillow as your realised Carol was using her powers. And you loved it. The hellish heat, Carol's brute strength and the merciless ways she delivered the blows with no recovery time hit your core everytime.

Your legs shook in pleasure and pain and your moans got notably louder. Sometimes when you tried to lean back into Carol's hand she tugged sharply at the ring connecting the chains on your clamps and you immediately returned to your position.

"Something to say?" Carol inquired after a particularly loud moan from you.

It dawned on you how close you were to submitting yourself to Carol. How close you were to telling her you loved every second of what she was doing and wanted her to fuck you.

So, to convince yourself more than the dominant blonde above you, you spoke up. "Need your powers to help you, Carol? Can't do it on your own?"

The pissed off blonde spanked you unbelievably hard after that. Your whole body lurched forward so suddenly you almost hit your head on the wall. You ass was stinging terribly and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek just after you cried out.

Carol got off the bed to once again disappear into the closet, giving you a moment to wipe the stray tear away so she could never know it was there.

When the powerful hero returned your eyes immediately fell to the obnoxious toy between her legs.

You bit your lip at the thought of her fucking you with it. Despite that, you were in denial that something that long and girthy would even fit. Although you knew Carol would make it fit. And with the blonde as pissed as she was...

"God you're practically drooling on my sheets." Your cheeks redened slightly at her words. "You want my cock, brat? You wanna be your Captain's cockslut?" God you did. But you refused to admit it, even if there was a moan caught in your throat.

"It isn't for your needy little pussy yet. It's to shut you up." Carol said as she straddled your chest, the strap inches away from your face.

"I'm not sucking your fucking strap, Carol." You tried to defy passively with an amused grin. You wanted to, so much. The thought of doing something like that was making your cunt pulse. But you might as well get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You refused to please Carol with such a submissive act, even if you could feel the cracks in your bratty walls grow with each exchange of words and acts.

To your surprise, Carol didn't push the idea any more, simply nodding with a sly smirk, as though she knew something you didn't.

Instead, the taller woman grabbed a small device from the side of the bed you had failed to notice prior. She twirled it in her hand, as though familiarizing herself with it as she positioned herself between your legs again, a place she seemed to be becoming familiar with.

As you gazed at the toy Carol held you couldn't help but feel there was something different about it. Something you couldn't quite placed. It wasn't as slim as any vibrator you had ever seen, not as pointed either, but there was something else to it too.

You didn't voice these inquires and the blonde didn't make any suggestive comments. So you let the thoughts go.

With her free hand, Carol unscrewed the clamp that had continued to grip onto you with everything it had. The release of pressure was unimaginably relieving but you didn't get long to appreciate it.

Carol wordlessly turned the vibrator on to a high setting and teased it against your skin just above your clit. Your hips jerked instantly in an attempt to lower the vibrator to where you needed it, but Carol placed a firm hand between your hip bones and kept you in place.

You almost whined at that, trying hard to keep it at bay, but Carol soon placed it directly onto your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked again as the vibrations hit you hard. The lack of a tip stopped them being focused to one point and instead pulsed down to every milimeter of your clit.

Despite this newfound pleasure, you couldn't shake the unnerving silence from Carol that hung in the room. Just as her lack of teasing with the vibrator hung over you. It seemed as though she was purely focused on drawing out your own pleasure, abandoning any precious plans. You knew that wasn't really the case. But you didn't know what was. It was anxiety inducing not knowing what Carol was planning in that stubborn head of hers.

The silent blonde watched you as she rotated the vibrator, grinding it into you like a drill that buzzed furiously. The vibrations were sending strong shock waves to your core that were carried throughout the entirety of your body in bliss.

Just as you were about to mentally praise yourself for not making a noise the vibrations seemed to multiple at an alarming rate.

You moaned the loudest you had all night at the feeling of warmth covering your core, emitting off of the vibrator that centred in on your aching clit that was drenched in arousal. Your hips tried to buck violently in search for the source of the vibrations that pulsed almost angrily.

You finally braved a look down as you panted heavily amongst moans to see what could possibly cause such uncharted pleasure only to spot the blue, yellow and red swirls of light you had come to hate the sight of. In that moment you didn't hate them though, far from it. You were entranced by the light show from Carol.

Your legs attempted to close around Carol's hand and the vibrator, but she held them apart. She watched you with an arrogant smirk as you threw your head back and moaned continuously, just as she had planned.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like me using my powers on you. You seem to be enjoying it now, judging by your slutty moans that is." She taunted knowingly.

You're unable to muster the voice to say something, to defend your ego. All you can do try to stop yourself moaning Carol's name or title.

Your breathing became increasingly ragged as Carol's powers never let up, mercilessly pulsing waves of vibrations to your core repeatedly until your legs started to shake.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as your clit throbbed aggressively, desperate to reach it's release it craved so much.

Your moans became less coherent when your back arched and toes curled. Just as you were about to fall over that glorious edge all vibrations died down to barely noticeable sensation.

You whined lowly at the worst teasing you had ever felt. It was as though Carol held you over your much needed edge by the back of your shirt, keeping you in that vulnerable state until she decided to either pull you back or let you go.

"Do you need something?" Carol asked with a shit eating grin.

You brought your hands down to push the vibrator further against you but Carol pinned them together in the middle of your stomach with one hand. The strength of just that was able to stop you and it was frustrating to no end knowing that.

Her other hand stayed firmly attached to the vibrator that was quietly buzzing against you core. Carol occasionally messed around with the vibrations levels and the inclusion of her powers to take you by surprise, constantly keeping you on the edge of where you needed to be most.

"Jesus Christ!" Your frustration bubbled to the surface, unable to control your anger at Carol for the merciless teasing she was making you ensure.

"Nope, just your Captain." If you had control of your legs, you would have kneed her in that stupidly attractive face of hers.

The vibrations were becoming too much yet still too little. Every so often they would spike to the previous level before returning to something unfairly light. Your orgasm seemed to grow closer and closer each time before it was denied.

Once, Carol slipped the powered vibrator through your drenched folds with her powers lining it. It felt insane. Energy tickling your inner walls as the vibrations hit all the right areas. But, of course, it was quickly pulled away too.

Just like that, all defiance left your body and you surrendered to your needs.

"Carol, Please, I need to cum so bad!" You wailed in desperation, not caring how you sounded.

"Really?" Carol wondered aloud as she stared down at you.

"Yes! Carol..." You whined and returned her stare pleadingly.

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

You gulped stiffly, knowing you were about to slip head first into the rabbit hole you had been avoiding so precisely all night.

"You...My Captain." Carol preened at the use of her title, something she had long awaited to hear you say and was sure you would need no encouragement to say it countless more times that night.

"Good girl." She husked and carelessly threw the vibrator to the side now she could use something better. "You want your Captain to fuck you? You wanna cum on my cock like a good little slut?"

Your nodded eagerly, knowing the only way was forward and that you would do anything for what Carol wanted to do to you.

"Please Captain, I want you so bad." You begged shameless.

"Well then you need to get my cock ready for your cunt." Carol stated matter-of-factly as she sat up straight and edged towards you.

The silicone toy between her legs was getting nearer to your face and your mouth watered at the sight, knowing you would need it to help accomdate the size.

You were so dazed by the sight of the toy bigger than you had ever seen that Carol had to tap your cheek to prompt you to open your mouth for her strap.

You did so instantly and without hesitation, quickly having the tip of the silicone toy at your mouth.

"Such an obidient baby now. You would do anything for my cock wouldn't you?" But Carol didn't give you a chance to respond. She thrusted her hips forward and in a flash she was forcing the strap into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

The blonde retreated the strap slightly only to ram it back in with more force and causing you to gag as it surpassed your limit without consideration.

You tried to sit up on your elbows to try and soften Carol's thrusts but she knelt down painfully on your arms as she gripped the headboard to aid her thrusting.

"I haven't even got you tired up and you're still so helpless." She mocked cruelly as she continued to make you gag and choke on the toy you struggled to accomdate so badly.

Eventually it became too much and you body fell limp in defeat, drool spilling from your mouth.

Carol didn't fail to notice this and chuckled darkly at the sight of you spread out on her bed with a dazed expression. She hadn't even fucked you yet.

As the dominant hero withdrew her strap she felt a rush to her core at the sight of your saliva glistening on her cock. You really had gotten it ready for yourself. Not that it would help you handle the size much.

Carol didn't waste and time lining the strap up with your entrance. Her hands were firmly placed on either of your thighs to ensure you stay spread open for her.

"Please." You whispered as you both watched the strap part your folds, paving a way for itself, before disappearing into your hungry pussy. You moaned loudly as the strap stretched your walls for it's entrance. You couldn't help but cling onto Carol's bare back and scratch the prominent muscle beneath your fingers as she sunk the strap in further.

The pain was present but it was overridden by the amazing pleasure provided by it. Your pussy clenched desperately around the intruder just before Carol bottomed out into you and you cried out at the unexpected motion, gripping onto the woman above you as much as you could.

She pulled the strap out slightly, only to slam it back in with force that made your whole body jerk and shudder. She pulled out more the next time, as though giving you a moment to prepare before thrusting the toy back into your still unprepared cunt.

You moaned over and over, struggling to form words and accomdate the brutal strap. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and pain as they took over every part of your brain, body and soul.

Her pace never faulted, never giving you a break. Every thrust was just as hard as the last, leaving you a moaning and shuddering mess beneath her.

"You feel how deep I am inside you, slut?" Carol grunted as she continued her onslaught of fucking tour dripping pussy.

"Yes Captain! Feels so good. You feel so good deep inside me." You moaned between breathless pants.

"God you're such a desperate slut for me. Dripping whore for me to use whenever I want." She punctuated each word with the snap of her hips.

The coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten and you craved your release.

"C-Captain." You stuttered as you started to shudder. "I'm gonna...cum."

"Beg me for it." Carol demanded and you complied without question.

"Please! Please Captain, I'm gonna cum so hard! Please let me! I'll be good for you." You begged as though Carol held your life in her hands.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because I- because I'm sorry!" You looked Carol in the eyes as you pleaded, letting you see her expression when she knew she had won. You both knew.

"How sorry?" Carol asked as her pace increased. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm for much longer.

"I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." Carol watched you for a moment as she memorized every inch of you during her victory.

"Cum for your Captain." With a cry, you came incredibly hard on Carol's cock. Your whole body shuddered violently as Carol fucked you through your orgasm in the most ungentle way possible.

"I'm cuming! I'm cuming on your cock, Captain!" Never in your life did you think you would talk like this to someone, especially not Carol. Never since meeting the arrogant hero did you think you would submit to her in such a wanton way.

Carol fucked you through your orgasm and into another one without even considering giving you a break or chance to recover from the earth shattering one you had just experienced. Your vision was still spotted with blanks as you tried to speak this to her but you couldn't manage to form any coherent words, the only sounds resonating throughout the room were your desperate moans, slapping of Carol's thighs against your own and the wet sound of your pussy being fucked, this being amplified even more now that your cum was swirling around inside of you with the strap.

Carol unexpectedly reached out quicker than you could react to and locked her hand around your throat. Her pace was harder this time, as though reminding you she hadn't forgotten she was punishing you and that she was still mad at you. Clearly very mad.

The strap slammed against the back of your pussy and had you crying out in a failed attempt to adjust to it. Even that was muffled by Carol's grip on your airways.

You couldn't believe the force she was able to gather to drive herself into you with each thrust. Over and over. You began to loose your grip on the world around you.

You plummeted into another orgasm in no time, your overworked pussy spasming around the strap as it released more sticky liquid onto it that you were too blissed out to notice was dripping onto yours and Carol's thighs. She smacked your thigh hard to show she at least had acknowledged it.

You lost count of how many times you had cum. When your limbs went weak and finally dropped from Carol's back she withdrew. Something you were thankful for until she flipped you onto your front and dove back in. Her stamina and sex drive was unforgivable and unmatched. And soon, it was the only thing you knew.

You continued to moan and scream profanities into the pillow while Carol wrecked your world above you. She had your head forced into the pillows with one hand and showed no signs of letting up.

You mustered as much energy as you could to squirm away but your efforts were futile. Your pussy ached with the punishing pace and extreme overstimulation you were experiencing. But you had no way to escape it. All you could do was lay beneath your Captain, voice horse from screaming so loud countless times, and take everything she was giving.

When the final orgasm was ripped from your body it was as though it had taken every part of you with it. Your exhausted and overworked body finally abandoned you and left you to be enveloped by the darkness and the strong arms of Carol Danvers.

#brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel smut #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #marvel

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

backstage ~ pete davidson

word count: 1960

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Pete Davidson smut on the set of SNL”

description: in which a backstage tour turns into something a little more

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two)

“And this is the writer’s room,” Pete said as he led me into a room with a large desk surrounded by multiple chairs. “This is where we come up with the skits and the jokes. There’s John, being the loner he is.”

“You say that like it’s a joke but you’re my best friend so what does that say about you?” John asked, not looking up from his laptop.

Pete chuckled and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Moving on - ”

“Hold on!” I cut him off. “We are not just sweeping past John Mulaney like that. You know how much I love him.”

This made the older comedian look up from his laptop and smile at me. “Oh, I like this girl. She’s got good taste.”

Pete rolled his eyes at the two of us. “You can come back and talk to John before we start filming. This is a big set and I told you I’d show you all of it.”

I playfully pouted at him before waving goodbye to John and continuing to follow Pete through the unfamiliar building.

Pete had been dying to give me a tour of the SNL backstage basically since we had started dating. Our schedules never lined up enough to be able to, but I had finally managed to get a full weekend off and Pete decided to take advantage of that.

The set was much larger than I thought, with every castmate having their own dressing rooms, plus special rooms for the hosts and musical guests. So many rooms for writing and editing, and the massive set where everything was filmed, usually in front of an audience. I didn’t understand how Pete didn’t get lost every day, even if he was familiar with the place.

“And finally,” he said once we neared the end of his tour, “my home away from home.”

He pushed open the door with his name written on a wooden plaque. The room definitely screamed “Pete”. Besides the smell of weed smoke that seemed to linger no matter how long Pete wasn’t there, the room was also littered with little things he liked to have with him at all times: pictures of his dad, his mom, the two of us, little gifts I had always given him for every season premiere, little things from his other friends.

There was a comfortable looking couch along the wall that was begging for me to lay down on it. I sighed in relief the moment my back touched the couch, my legs and feet aching from the heels I decided to wear.

Pete chuckled at my reaction. “I told you to wear something comfortable.”

“And I told you I wanted to make a good impression on your co-stars, which includes a nice outfit.”

I had decided on a long sleeved white shirt and a short, plaid skirt to wear on set, with a pair of black booties that were nice when I put them on, but now that I had been walking around in them for almost an hour I was regretting my wardrobe choices.

Pete smiled and came to lay down on the couch on top of me, his legs between mine and his hands on either side of my head. “Baby, you could wear a garbage bag and everyone here would still be impressed by you.”

“Well, I’ll do that next time then.”

He chuckled and lowered himself so he was kissing me. It was a quick kiss on my lips before he dipped his head to kiss my neck. I giggled as the slight stubble he was starting to grow tickled my neck, followed by a moan as he found the spot on my neck that always drove me wild.

“The skirt does give me some easy access, though,” he mumbled against my neck as one of his hands traced up my bare leg and dipped under my skirt. I gasped as he ran a finger over my clothed clit - or, just barley clothed as I was wearing a G-string. “God, baby, I’ve barley touched you and you’re already soaking wet.”

I moaned as his finger slipped under my G-string and inside of me. He was quick to cover my mouth, a cheeky grin on his face at my reaction.

“You have to be quiet, baby,” he said. “Anyone could come catch us at any time.”

I bit my lip to try and keep quiet as his finger slid in and out of me, first at a slow pace. My moans came out as squeaks and whimpers of pleasure as his pace began to pick up and he slipped another finger into me. I was basically writhing underneath him, which I could tell he was taking a lot of pleasure in.

With two of his fingers in me, he pressed his thumb against my clit and began to rub painfully slow circles, causing my body to arch against him. It was becoming harder to hold back my moans and I had to cover my own mouth with my hand.

“God, this is so fucking dirty,” Pete commented. “Finger fucking my beautiful girl on the couch of my dressing room? Where all my co-workers come in and hang out with me? Man, I’ll never be able to look at this couch the same.”

“It’ll be a nice memory of me,” I said, trying my best to smile up at him but another whimper being let out instead.

“I’ll never not think of you when I’m in this room again,” he confirmed, lowering himself to kiss my neck again.

I was already nearing my climax when Pete’s fingers were removed from my wet core. I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and my lips pouting. He brought his wet fingers to his lips and took them in his mouth.

“Fuck,” I breathed. I didn’t think it were possible, but I managed to become even more wet at the sight.

“Flip over on your hands and knees baby,” he told me.

I excitedly did as he told me, spinning to be back on to him on my hands and knees. I started reaching for my panties to take them off, but his hand caught hold of my wrists before I could.

“Leave them on,” he said. “I think it’ll be extra hot to fuck you with your skirt and panties still on.”

I nodded excitedly and got back into my position. Pete stood for just a moment, long enough to undo his jeans and let them, and his underwear, fall to the floor. My heart was racing as I felt the couch dip behind me again and Pete pulling my panties to the side as he lined his head up with my entrance.

As he pushed himself inside of me ever so slowly, his other hand came to rest on my back, pushing me down till my head was buried in the couch cushions.

“Best way to keep you quiet,” he said. “I don’t intend to go easy on you.”

“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” I responded.

I looked over my shoulder to see the smile on Pete’s face. He took hold of my waist with both hands and started to thrust slow at first, making sure I was comfortable and fully stretched around him. Once he was sure I was okay, his thrusts gradually got quicker and rougher until he was pounding me so hard that the only sounds in the room were that of skin slapping against skin.

I buried my face in the couch again, trying my best the muffle the moans that were basically turning to screams of pleasure. However this process was basically moot as the sound of our skin slapping against each other and Pete’s own moans and groans of pleasure would definitely alert any passersby of our activities.

Being adventurous with our sex was definitely nothing new to Pete and I. Whenever one of us was in the mood, we’d initiate it wherever we wanted. In bathrooms, fitting rooms, in the back of his car, wherever we could get some form of privacy while also being a little too out in public.

But there was just something different about having him rail me in his dressing room mere minutes before he was set to go live. At any moment someone could walk past, or one of the producers could come knock on the door. Or, heaven forbid if he didn’t lock the door, someone could just walk in and catch the two of us. All of that just made our secret rendezvous a little more naughty and sexy. While I didn’t want to be caught by any means, the thought that it would be so easy to be caught drove me wild.

Pete’s thrusts became so rough that I could hear the couch legs scraping across the floor as it moved. My legs were already feeling like jelly and I had a feeling I was going to have trouble walking to set with Pete when this was over.

His hand ran up my back and through my hair before giving my head a rough tug back. I yelped at the sudden pain that I felt in my head before it dissolved into a moan. Pete pulled me back till my back was against his chest and leaned in close to my ear.

“You feel so good,” he breathed into my ear. “God, even after all this time, you’re still so tight around me.”

“You keep talking like that and I’ll cum around your cock in no time.”

The hand in my hair crept around my front to grab me by the throat. “You say that as if it’s not what I wanted.”

His other hand slipped between my legs and began rubbing at my clit, causing all sorts of pleasure to run through me. My body started to tremble as I felt myself nearing my climax. The hand around my throat squeezed slightly as I let out a cry of pleasure, my walls tightening around him.

Pete grunted in my ear a few more times before I felt him filling me up as well. I took a deep breath in when he let go of my throat, although my head was still spinning.

Pete pulled out of me just in time for a knock to come on his door. “Give me a second!”

He quickly pulled his pants and boxers back on as I adjusted my skirt and panties. Although I was sure whoever was at the door wouldn’t notice the wet spot that had suddenly appeared on the couch, I still decided to cover it with a pillow just in case.

One of the producers was stood at the door. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that we’re starting in roughly five minutes!”

“Thanks, I’ll be there soon,” Pete responded. He shut the door and looked back at me. His eyes travelled down to my legs as an amused look crossed his face. “You got something on your leg there hun.”

I looked down to see a single string of warm liquid running down my inner thigh. “Oh fuck.”

I reached for a tissue but Pete stopped me. “Wait, don’t clean it yet. I’d love to know you’re in the audience watching me with my cum running down your legs.”

“Okay, that’s hot, but I don’t want your co-workers thinking I peed myself or something.”

“I’ll tell them the truth if you want.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved him towards the door. “Go to set! Let me clean up. I’m sure there’s more there that can fulfil this fantasy you have.”

Pete smiled down and gave me one last kiss before rushing to set.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #peter parker x reader #pete davidson smut #imagine #one shot #request #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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jamaisjoons · 3 years

Text

dark chocolate snap ⤑ ksj & kth | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 the last thing you’d expected a few days before valentine’s, was a text from your friends’ with benefits telling you to meet them at a hotel. however, with all the tasty tricks up their sleeve, you’re sure that valentine’s day will be extra sweet this year. that is, as long as you survive the night with the two men ravishing you as if you’re their last meal… or dessert. 〞friends with benefits au. valentine’s au. pwp au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: seokjin x reader x taehyung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff ∝ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 15.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: heavy bdsm themes, hard (but softer than tae)dom!seokjin, hard dom!taehyung, big cock!seokjin, big cock!taehyung, slight bratty sub!reader, threesome: mfm, public indecency yeehaw, use of sex toys: vibrators, exhibitionism, humiliation, use of blindfolds, grinding, female masturbation, voyeurism, teasing, biting, dirty talk, degradation, finger licking/sucking, fingering, wet and messy, minor breast/nipple play, spanking, face slapping with cock, cock rubbing, rough/sloppy blowjob, choking/gagging on cock, praise, food play: melted chocolate, temperature play, licking/eating food off of a body, power dynamics, pain kink, mild ass worship, pussy eating, deep throating, hair pulling, clit torture, throat bulge, face fucking, slight objectification kink, minor choking, crying, orgasm control, orgasm denial, disobedience/punishment, oral fixation, cock worship, anal play, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, impact play: paddle, some truly inspired use of chocolate, begging, forced orgasm, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, riding, minor male masturbation, ass eating, anal fingering, spitting, anal sex, double penetration, rough sex, deep dicking, creampie, anal creampie, aftercare because yn is a trooper an deserves it for her performance

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: ahhhhhhhh i have no idea wtf is happening in this but either way i love taejin... also this is ACTUALLY pwp because the plot and or background to their relationship is non existent

⤑ edited by my lovely @shadowsremedy, beta read by the sweetest @yeoldontknow, @kithtaehyung, @softyoongiionly, @yoonjinkooked, @sunshinekims, @nottodayjjk, and @vari8tions

⏤ written for the bon appetit collab

Big Daddy 🍆

Princess Suite. Crown Plaza. Sowol-ro. Hannam-dong. Reserved under Kim Seokjin. Taehyung and I will be waiting.

You stare at your phone for a couple of moments, making sure that you’ve got the correct address, as well as the hotel, before looking up at the imposing tower of steel and glass that looms over you. The words ‘Crown Plaza’ are emblazoned at the top of the building; the flavescent neon lighting proudly shimmering against the late-evening sky. Eyes skimming to the entrance, you pull your lower lip between your teeth, before anxiously chewing on it. Currently, you’re in the warm comfort of your Uber, the driver patiently waiting for you to exit her vehicle. However, the harder you scrutinise the length between the door of the cab, to the hotel’s front door, the more you feel like turning tail and running away. And that’s nothing to say for the way the distance seems to increase with each passing second; though, you’re sure that’s more to do with your apprehension than anything.

Turning to the Uber driver, “Is there any way you can get closer to the entrance?” you question. The woman looks at you strangely before shaking her head.

“This is the drop off,” comes her laconic response.

At her words, you bite your lip harder - hard enough to almost draw blood - before nodding your head. For a second time that evening, you consider asking the driver to take you back home. Nonetheless, you know that’s not an option: Seokjin and Taehyung most likely waiting for you in the hotel suite. Though, honestly speaking, your tentativeness is all thanks to them in the first place. After all, who the hell ordered their lover to go to a hotel completely naked, with only a winter coat to keep them covered? Answer? Seokjin and Taehyung. Of course, it’s partially your own fault. Mostly because, you’re the one who told both your friends’ with benefits that you wanted more spontaneity and thrill in your relationship. Although, this was not what you had in mind; i.e. Seokjin texting you the moment you’d gotten home from work to strip and get to the hotel.

“Are you getting out? I have other customers,” the woman prompts, and realising she’s grown impatient, you send her an apologetic smile before nodding. Well, there’s no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the coat tighter around you - ensuring each of the buttons are securely fastened, lest you unwittingly flash someone - before opening the door and exiting the Uber. The moment you step outside, a gust of wind blows by. It carries the brisk chill of the winter on its back, and skimming through the heavy tweed of Seokjin’s coat, the gale kisses your skin, leaving the surface gelid under its touch. Instantly, a violent shiver runs down your back, the wintry breeze causing you to huddle into the little warmth offered by the jacket. Under its sharp bite, your nipples twist to hardness, almost painfully, the sudden ache causing you to suck in a sharp breath. Surreptitiously, you chance a glance towards your chest, only to let out a breath of relief. With how thick the jacket is, the hardened peaks of your breasts are hidden - the bulky material effectively hiding them.

For a brief moment, you contemplate getting back in your Uber, but, just as the thought crosses your mind, the car behind speeds off, leaving you alone in the cold. With your choice made for you, your next option is to simply run towards the hotel lobby, because - now that you look at it - the distance isn’t that great. Nevertheless, you know that’s simply not an option. And that’s thanks to the second demand your paramours had asked of you. The remote control vibrator resting just within the walls of your sex. Courtesy of one, Kim Taehyung. It’s small, and motionless right now, but paired with your naked body, and the sight of people simply milling about, the feel of it inside you is prominent - inescapable.

With the fear of the toy falling out of you, and alerting everyone to your lewd, depraved actions, you gingerly begin making your way to the entrance. As you walk, you keep your thighs clenched together, in a bid to retain the silicon toy inside of you, though, that’s easier said than done. Each of your steps has the silken lining of Seokjin’s coat sliding against your naked skin; the soft touch, paired with the thrill of your brazen actions and the biting air, causing your walls to intermittently convulse - threatening to push the toy out of you. Nonetheless, after long, drawn-out moments, you finally reach the front doors.

Just as you take a step to enter the lobby, however, another gust of wind blows past, and this time, after ruffling through Seokjin’s coat, it brushes against your bare core. Automatically, a soughed whimper falls from your lips - the chilled air against your heated sex making your skin prickle with goosebumps. The sensation has your inner walls clenching inadvertently, and under the reflexive movement, the feel of the rounded vibrator inside you intensifies. Against your will, you feel your cunt release a fresh wave of arousal - the wetness trickling out of you and along your thighs. Skin flushing with humiliation at the slickness that coats your flesh, you swiftly open the front door and step into the hotel - the sooner you get to the suite the better.

A pleasant heat assaults your senses as soon as you enter; the warmth a stark juxtaposition to the frigid cold you’d just escaped from. Before you can enjoy the welcomed change, however, the vibrator inside you flares to life. Viciously, it thrums inside you and as the intense vibrations stimulate your inner nerves, your walls unintentionally pulse - a second, thicker gush of wetness slipping out of you and down your thighs. The reverberations take you by surprise, and automatically, you clench your legs. Unable to stop yourself, however, you let out a high-pitched squeak. Beside you, the doorman gives you an odd look, and cheeks flushing with heat, you turn away from him. Rather, your eyes skim across the foyer.

Surprisingly, despite the lateness of the evening, a hoard of people occupy the hotel’s reception - all of them dressed to impress as they casually mill about - and eyes landing onto the sign at one end of the lobby, you understand why. The hotel is currently hosting some form of speed dating event. Seeing the crowd, an inkling of despair flits through you, especially when you feel the pulsating toy shift inside of you. You continue looking around the palatially decorated room, yet, no matter how many times your eyes sweep across the floor, you can’t seem to locate either of your lovers - whoever it is blending in with the throng of people that loiters around the foyer. Just as your gaze lands on the reception, your pocket buzzes, and pulling out your phone, you look at your newest text.

Dr Dick 👅

Go straight to the reception. Don’t be late.

Then, as if in a warning, the vibrator’s reverberations intensify for a short moment, before coming to a halt. Unwittingly, a small mewl slips from your lips, and sucking in a deep, steadying breath, you cautiously make your way to the reception counter. As soon as you approach them, the two employees rise to their feet and greet you with a smile.

“How can we help you?” one of them asks. The second you open your mouth to respond, however, the vibrator inside you suddenly begins moving - this time, at a much higher setting than before. The unexpected movement forces a gasp out of you, and body going rigid, you watch as both the receptionists look at you in alarm. Thinking on your feet, you quickly morph your gasp into a forced cough.

Corners of your lips twisting into a weak smile, “Sorry about that. I’ve, uhh, got a reservation under Kim Seokjin,” you respond. Your voice is shaky, and higher than you intended it to be, and responsively both of them look at you oddly. Nonetheless, rather than commenting on your strange behaviour, they nod their head, and turn back to their computer.

“Just give us a moment to find your reservation,” one of them responds, the other beginning to type out something. Feebly, you nod your head, your hands moving to casually drum on the countertop.

Despite your nonchalant demeanour, however, internally you feel your resolve slowly begin to crumble. Molten desire pools within the pits of your stomach with each passing moment, the vibrations of the toy stimulating the deep erogenous zones inside of you and causing bristles of pleasure to prickle at your flesh. Discreetly, you look around, the sight of the crowd causing your blood to bubble with pleasure. They mindlessly mill about, completely unawares to the way the vibrator rhythmically pulses inside of you. Walls rippling, you feel the contractions threaten to push the vibrator out of you, and muscles locking in alarm, you discreetly clench your thighs - willing it further inside of you. Thankfully, on one hand, the movement has it retreating back into the safety of your walls. Thanklessly, on the other, it pushes in deeper, causing your breath to unwittingly hitch when it brushes against a particularly sensitive spot.

“It’s the Princess Suite, you can find it on the forty-third floor. Here’s your key,” the employee states all of a sudden. Their voice draws your attention, and you watch as one of them slides a golden keycard across the marble countertop, “We hope you enjoy your stay with us. Checkout is midday tomorrow,” they continue.

As soon as you pick up the keycard, the vibrator comes to a still. Letting out a quiet exhale, you smile wanly at both the employees, and, “Thank you,” you reply. Then, turning on your heels, you quickly stalk towards the elevator. With each step, the sticky slipperiness of your thighs grows more apparent - your wetness dripping out of you and along your flesh. The sensation causes you to pick up speed, and before long, you approach the lift. Luckily, just as you reach the doors, they open - a young couple exiting out. Not wanting to waste any time, you quickly make your way into the amber-lit chamber and click the button that leads to your floor.

As soon as the elevator doors shut, a tinkling chime ringing through the air, you let out a deep breath of relief. Somehow, you’d done it. Somehow, despite your own embarrassment and consciousness, you’d managed to walk into the hotel completely naked - even with a vibrator pulsing inside of you. Now, you just have to make it to your room. The elevator ride is short, in spite of how high up your reserved suite is, and before long, a familiar bell resounds through the air - signalling your arrival. Lift doors opening, you walk out into the short corridor. Two doors meet your eyes, one one either side of you; and eyes skimming the gold plaques, you locate the one that has ‘Princess Suite’ embossed in black into the surface.

Swiping your keycard through the slot, a low beep alerts you to the bolt unlocking, and without further delay, you enter the room. Automatically, the lights flicker on, and as the space is flooded by croceate lighting, your breath catches in the midst of your throat. The suite is opulent to say the least - rich shades of gold, ivory and walnut meeting your eyes. As you take in the lavishly decorated front room, you can’t help but wonder how much Seokjin and Taehyung shelled out in order to reserve the suite. It must have cost a small fortune. The thought of it causes your stomach to twist, and involuntarily, butterflies bloom within your abdomen.

At the remembrance of your two lovers, your shoulders perk up. You step through the entrance, and after crossing the living room, you make your way to what you assume is the bedroom. Luckily, your guess is right, and immediately, you’re met with the sight of a large four-poster bed - adorned in goose-down pillows and draped in satin sheets. Nonetheless, as inviting as it looks, there’s only one glaring thing missing: Seokjin and Taehyung. From their texts, they’d made it seem as if they were waiting for you. But, apparently, that hadn’t been the case. Corners of your nose scrunching, you move to pull out your phone and call Seokjin, however, before you can, something catches your eyes.

Approaching the mattress, your eyebrow quirks at the sight of the small envelope casually resting at the edge of the bed. Easily recognising the handwriting on the surface, the thin scrawl belonging to none other than Seokjin, you pick up the letter. It’s thicker than you’d thought, and as it rests in your hands, you feel something soft nestled within it. Curiosity piqued, you flip it over, and opening it, you pull out two items - a broad, silk ribbon, and a small piece of paper. ‘Put on the blindfold and wait. We’ll be there for you soon.’ Eyes tracing the words over and over again, a small frown forms at the edges of your mouth. You had to wait even longer? God, whatever they had planned better be worth it.

Despite your slight aggravation, you slip the note back into the envelope and place it back on the bed. Then, perching on the edge of the mattress, you tie the blindfold around your eyes and begin your waiting game. Hunger churns through your bloodstream, your neediness growing with each moment that passes. It doesn’t help that the silken lining of Seokjin’s coat presses flush against your sex, the sleek material clinging to your folds thanks to the lubricious wetness that slicks your cunt. The musky heat at the apex of your thighs grows uncomfortable, and hips squirming, you try to get into a more comfortable position, only to let out a whimper when your pussy glides across the silk-like fabric.

Entrance rippling, you feel your clit throb for attention and a low mewl of wanton need escapes your mouth. Repeating the action, you grind your cunt further into the jacket, and this time, when the fabric brushes against your engorged clit, you let out a hoarse cry. With nothing to distract you, and no one to stop you, you spread your legs a little wider and push your hands between your thighs. Pads of your fingertips grazing your swollen bundle of nerves, a spark of electric pleasure jolts up your spine, and throwing your head back, you groan out in ecstasy.

Hips writhing, you begin grinding into your hand, your fingers dancing across your slit as high-pitched keens intermittently escape your mouth. You can feel how wet you are, a dense film of stick slickness coating your walls; stringy trails of your arousal oozing out of your entrance and onto the sheets. Digits gliding through your cunt, you begin rolling your clit in deep circles, your thighs beginning to tremble. With each roll of your hips, the vibrator shifts inside of you - its surreptitious movements causing your frustration to build up - and unable to bear it any longer, your desperation growing to urgent levels, you lay back on the bed.

Spreading your legs a little wider, you move your hand back to your sex, your fingers slipping past the heavy tweed of Seokjin’s jackets. For a few moments, you trace the outline of your sex - running your fingers across your slit and over your clit - and once the lengths are sufficiently wet, you dip two fingers into your dripping walls. Easily, your entrance accepts the intrusion, and fingertips coming into contact with the toy, your head lolls back and your mouth falls open in a ragged cry. You hook the crook of your second knuckles around the loop attached to the toy, and once it’s secure, you begin pumping your digits in and out of you; simultaneously dragging the smooth silicon toy through your folds. When your fingers push particularly deep, the vibrator pressing flush against your sweet spot, a heavy moan resounds through the air, and knowing your body well, you can feel your orgasm draw nearer.

Fingers picking up speed, you thrust them quicker in and out of you - using both, the pleasure of your digits plunging in and out of you, along with the vibrator stimulating your g-spot - to bring you closer and closer to the brink of pleasure. You have no idea how long passes, with you sitting there, your clit grinding against the silken lining as your fingers pump in and out of you, but soon, you lose yourself in your own pleasure. Thick ropes of arousal drip out of you, pooling under you and percolating into the jacket, undoubtedly leaving a puddle of your arousal in the material. Just as you feel yourself teeter on the precipice of pleasure, your thighs trembling uncontrollably, a low voice cuts through the air.

“Oh? Now, what do we have here?”

Shoulders tensing at the sound, you let out a whimper, your hand immediately coming to a still. Blindfold still wrapped around your head, you can’t see who it is, nor where they are. But, you don’t need to see to know who it is. From the rich, sweet tenor, and the slight wry intonation to his droll, you already know it’s Seokjin. Footfalls pad against the carpet, and as the noise draws nearer to you, you feel your body tremor with anticipation and excitement. Lifting your back, your elbows falling to either side of the mattress as you brace yourself, you look ahead, your head tilting to the side as you’re met with the darkness of the blindfold.

“Seokjin...” you breathe out heavily, the tenseness in your shoulders alleviating as you relax. The older man simply hums, the timbre of his voice resonating through the quiet room. His heavy presence draws nearer to you, until you can feel it loom over you, the hair at the back of your nap standing on edge. Instinctively, even though you’re blindfolded, you tilt your neck up; blindly searching for him. “Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, your head tilting around the room, your ears on alert - searching for any sound that would signal you to his presence.

One hand falls to your stomach, and slipping through the buttoned seam of your coat, you feel long, cool fingers dance across your naked skin. Deft fingers flittering over your bare stomach, “Right here, Kitten,” he drawls, the deep tremor to his voice causing your stomach to quiver.

“Took you both long enough. I’ve been waiting for a while, you know,” you pout, your lower lip jutting out.

“And yet, you couldn’t really wait, could you?” Seokjin hums.

Before you can reply, you feel a pair of plump lips graze across the outer shell of your ear. Warm breath fans across your skin, the feathery sensation causing a shiver of anticipation to run down your spine. All of a sudden, a sharp sting jolts through you, and feeling Seokjin bite down on the tip of your ear, you let out a small yelp. “Hmm, I don’t think either of us told you to play with yourself, did we, Taehyung?” Seokjin questions, his voice low and dangerous. As he speaks, you feel a pair of hands trace the placket of Seokjin’s coat, dexterous fingers systematically unfastening each of the buttons.

“No. I believe our instructions were to ‘Put on the blindfold and wait’,” Taehyung responds, a playful lilt colouring his voice.

With each clasp undone, more and more of your body is revealed to their eyes, until all of a sudden, the material falls to either side of your body - revealing your naked figure. The warmth you’d built up from the jacket immediately dissipates, and cool air descending over your bare flesh, you feel your nipples twist to hardness. Two sharp inhales fill the air, the sounds identical as Seokjin and Taehyung suck in a breath at the sight.

“At least she listened to one of our orders,” Taehyung chuckles, and though his sentence is light and airy, you easily pick up the slight edge to his voice.

Breath hitching, you feel him trail his hand down your abdomen and towards the apex of your thighs. Reaching your pubic mound, he begins tracing lazy circles into your skin, the teasing sensation causing you to mew in pleasure. When his fingertips brush against the hood of your clit, you gasp out his name, your hips autonomously bucking up into his hand. Not wasting a moment, he pushes his digits between your thighs, and swipes them through your dewy lips. A guttural groan spills from your mouth, your head falling backwards as you feel Taehyung delicately toy with the slick creases of your pussy.

“Oh? You’re fucking soaked. Did you enjoy being a nasty little slut?” Taehyung coos; thick derision dripping from his voice, like viscous honey.

On the side of you, a hand trails along your arm, and gently encircling around your wrist, he picks up your own hand. Bringing your fingers up to his mouth, he - Seokjin, you think - begins swiping your wet fingers across the soft folds. Voluptuous lips wrap around your digits, and feeling them enveloped by a wet, warm mouth, your skin flushes with the heat of desire. Seokjin’s tongue begins swirling across the lengths - and between his velvet appendage swiping over your fingers, as well as his mouth intermittently suckling - he cleans off your own arousal.

Releasing them from his mouth with a wet pop, “I think she did,” Seokjin chimes in with a low chuckle. Then, languidly twirling his tongue around the tips of your digits, “Our Princess is a depraved little whore, isn’t she? Getting off while walking around in public naked, with a vibrator inside her,” he continues. Their words have the tips of your ears tinging with heat - this time, with mortification.

“B-But you made me-” you try to argue. As soon as the words slip past your lips, however, Taehyung plunges two fingers inside of you, before splaying them wide. The unexpected intrusion has the vibrator pressing further into you, and paired with the burn of the stretch, your words are quickly morphed into a throaty groan.

“But no one told you to enjoy it so much,” he remarks, a sadistic inflection to his voice, and though you can’t see his face, you can practically feel the smirk that crawls onto his face.

“Enjoy? I-I didn’t-,” you try to counter. One of your nipples slots between two crooked fingers, and twisting them between his knuckles, Seokjin immediately stops your protests. Responsively, you moan, your back arching off of the bed.

“Don’t lie to us, Princess,” he hisses in warning. Then, soothingly stroking your nipple with the pad of his thumb, “We can already tell how much you enjoyed it. You’re so wet I can smell you from here,” he drawls. The vulgarity of his words has your spine tingling, and involuntarily, your entrance quivers around Taehyung’s fingers. In response, Taehyung starts to indolently thrust his digits into you, his thumb simultaneously pressing to your clit as he rolls it in light circles. Pleasure rippling through you, your hips squirm, and you push your sex further into his hand.

Above you, you feel someone’s head dip close to your abdomen, the silken ends of long hair tickling your bare flesh. The man presses a soft kiss to your stomach, just above your naval, and after swirling his tongue through the indentation, “You really are wet…” Taehyung comments. His fingers pick up speed, and hearing the clear squelching sounds of your pussy, Taehyung and Seokjin laugh. “Messy girl,” Taehyung coos.

Seokjin presses his nose to the side of your breast, and after lightly nipping the skin, he languidly swipes his tongue over your hardened nipple. “But we can get you messier, can’t we?” he murmurs.

With that, both of them suddenly draw away from you. Their warmth dissipating from your body, you let out a low whine of protest. Nonetheless, it doesn’t last long, because without a moment’s hesitation, they flip you onto your back - undoubtedly using Seokjin’s coat for help. Thanks to your blindfold, the gesture is unexpected, and startling, you let out a surprised shriek. One hand drags the hem of the coat up, revealing your bare ass to their gaze, and before you can say anything, another hand drops down onto your plump flesh. Pain flares across your skin - the sensation heralded by a sharp slap echoing through the air - causing you to hiss and push your ass back towards the hand.

“Take off the coat,” Seokjin orders,

“Then, get on your hands and knees,” Taehyung commands, their voices resound through the air back to back, as though with practiced ease. Though, realistically, you just know it’s from the amount of time you’ve spent together.

Your body moves on its own, as if trained to obey, and after shedding Seokjin’s heavy coat, you manoeuvre your body onto your hands and knees, your ass sticking in the air. In front of you, you feel the mattress dip, and when the sensual, spiced scent of nutmeg and musk fills your senses, you know it’s Taehyung; another presence behind you alerting you to Seokjin’s positioning. Thanks to your new position, you have no doubt that your body is bared to your lovers in the best way possible, and core trembling - another wave of arousal leaking out of you - you whimper out their names.

“P-Please,” comes your soughed plea.

In front of you, you feel the bed shift, and lifting your head up, you attempt to peek through the partial slit at the bottom of the blindfold. Before you can make out anything, however, you feel someone gently cup your chin between the side of his hand and his thumb. Carefully, yet firmly, he tilts your head downwards - the gesture filled with domineering authority. Pad of his thumb brushing against your lower lip, you feel him delicately trace the outline of your petal.

“Such pretty lips,” Taehyung murmurs. His hold only lasts a few moments, because the next thing you know, he’s letting your chin go. “But do you know when your lips look the prettiest?” he continues. The bed shifts once again, before the rustle of clothing fills the air; the sound accompanied by that of Seokjin rummaging behind you. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, however, Taehyung’s placing his large hand on the back of your head and lowering your face. Within moments, your mouth comes into contact with the leaky velvet of Taehyung’s cockhead; his precum staining your lips.

“Ah,” you gasp, the barest hint of his heady essence tinging your palate.

“It’s when they’re wrapped around my cock,” Taehyung purrs. Mouth watering, you instinctively part your lips and dive forward - blindly. Eyesight obscured, your cheeks slap against the side of Taehyung’s cock, and above you, he laughs, “Such a desperate, cockhungry kitten.” Suddenly, a thud resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of Taehyung’s cock slap your cheek, you let out a little whimper. “Do you want to suck my cock that badly?” he coos.

Nodding your head furiously, you press your cheek further into the velvet hardness and stroke your face against it, “Please, can I?” you question. Laden with a mix of heavy lust and desirous need, your voice has Taehyung’s chest rumbling in approval.

“That’s my Kitten. You’ll be good and take me into your mouth, won’t you?” he asks. Again, you eagerly nod your head. Chuckling, “Open, slut,” he orders.

Not wasting a single moment, your mouth parts open, and with a pleased hum, Taehyung begins to feed you his cock. The moment you feel the weight of his cockhead on your tongue, you seal your lips around his girth; autonomously creating a vacuum-like seal.

Bit by bit, Taehyung pushes his cock into you, one hand faithfully on the back of your head as his shaft presses further and further into your silken wetness. With each inch, the underside drags against the flat of your tongue - dousing your palate in his potent flavour; the taste only causing your mouth to water - and with the aid of your spit, his length easily fills your mouth. Mere moments later, the lip of his cockhead grazing against the back of your tongue, Taehyung’s crown bumps against your tonsils. The feel of his cock pressed against the entrance to your throat causes you to choke, and spluttering around his shaft, you feel your eyes begin to sting with tears.

“Oh… Fuck yeah… Such a pretty cock-stuffed mouth. You always look so good filled with our cocks,” Taehyung moans, undoubtedly relishing in the velvet warmth of your mouth around his girth. Under his praise, you preen, a flutter of pride rippling through you, and in response, you forcibly will your oesophageal muscles to relax.

Out of the blue, and just before you can swallow, you feel a trickling, hot sensation drip down onto the curve of your spine. Heat flares across your flesh, and feeling the sharp sting, you cry out - the sound stifled by Taehyung’s cock. Taken by surprise, you arch your back, the movement inadvertently forcing the shaft further into your mouth, and as a result, you gag. Head jerking in surprise, you try to pull off Taehyung and turn your head towards Seokjin. Nevertheless, keeping a steady hand on the back of your skull, your lover keeps you in place. Swiftly, the heat dissipates, only to be replaced by the soft sensation of Seokjin’s tongue tracing the length of your spine as he licks up whatever it is he’d dribbled onto you.

“W-What is that?” you question, the words muffled as your tongue strains under the velvet weight of his girth.

“Melted chocolate... Spontaneous and thrilling enough for you?” Seokjin murmurs. As he speaks, he runs his tongue over the outline of your backbone, and when he reaches the top of your ass, he grazes his teeth against the plump flesh.

“Oh, fuck yes,” you breathe out, your core quivering in a mix of anticipation and excitement. The blindfold, paired with Seokjin’s actions, has the pits of your abdomen flooding with liquid lust.

Behind you, the older man notices the way the ringed entrance to your cunt pulsates, and with a light chuckle, “You like that, Princess?” he asks. Unhesitantly, you nod your head, the motion causing Taehyung’s cock to jolt within your mouth.

“We thought you would,” Taehyung hums, his fingertips affectionately stroking your scalp. “Now, my Kitten’s going to let me fuck her throat, isn’t she? All while Seokjin plays with you,” he coos, and again, you nod your head. For a brief moment, Taehyung pauses, and then, “I’m going to remove your blindfold now, Kitten. But I want you to keep your eyes on me okay?” he continues.

“Wait- I thought we were going to leave it on?” Seokjin asks. Taehyung shrugs, or at least, you think he does. All you feel is the slight movement of his body.

“I was. But, she looks so pretty when she looks at me with her mouth full of cock,” Taehyung responds.

Exhaling a breath of amusement, “That she does,” Seokjin agrees.

Taehyung slips the blindfold off of you, and lurid beams of flavescent gold flooding your vision, you immediately squint. You blink carefully, allowing your eyes to slowly adjust to the light. It only takes a few moments, and growing accustomed to the luminance, your gaze immediately comes into contact with Taehyung. He sits above you, his back casually pressed to the walnut headboard, and completely naked. Under the croceate lighting, the deep golden undertones of his skin are highlighted, causing his body to be encapsulated by a gilded halo. Thick thighs are spread on either side of your face, the bulging muscles bunched up and spread across the mattress - only making his limbs seem broader.

Through the thick of your lashes, your eyes still slightly blurry from when you’d gagged around his cock, you stare up at him; the sight causing Taehyung to groan in pleasure. Hand slipping from the back of your head to your face, he cups your chin, and angling it up slightly, “Mmmm. That’s one of my favourite sights,” he purrs.

Behind you, Seokjin drips more of the melted chocolate onto your body. Drop by drop, he drizzles the liquified confection along your back, and with each gesture, you feel your skin smart with the heat. Pain interweaves with pleasure, the sharp stings making you hiss and writhe while your walls rhythmically clamp around the silicon vibrator still resting inside you. Your lover allows the chocolate to trickle down your back, forming small, heated rivers of cocoa, and once it cools, he soothes the burn with his tongue - licking and nipping as he leaves his own marks onto your flesh.

With each whorl of his tongue, he effortlessly sucks the drying confectionary off of you, his plump lips dragging across your body. Under his ministrations, your skin turns febrile, and sensitive - from more than just the molten chocolate. Each dribble is erratic - the timing random, and unpredictable - and with Taehyung keeping your eyes firmly locked onto him, you simply can’t foresee when Seokjin is going to dribble the next dollop onto you. Especially since there’s no real pattern; some coming in quick succession - his teeth scraping and biting your flesh, leaving it tender under his ministrations; while others come slowly, with long delays between them - his lips and tongue roving over your back as he licks you up.

Gradually, however, Seokjin trails his way down your spine, until you feel his lips drag against the tops of your plump cheeks. Suddenly, Seokjin pours some more chocolate onto you - this time, directly onto the rounded flesh, and at a much higher volume. It drips down the surface, all the way to the sensitive tops of your thighs, making them quake as you feel it lick trails of fiery pleasure across your skin, only for the swelter to dissipate with moments - leaving you with nothing but the prickling stings of heat. Crying out in pleasure, you thrust your hips backward; directly into Seokjin’s waiting mouth. Silken wetness flat against your cheek, he licks up the molten confection sensually - practically making a meal out of you. His tongue tracks a broad line from the bottom of your ass, all the way to the top, and when he’s cleaned it all up, he harshly bites down on your plump globe.

Hissing in a mix of pain and pleasure, your head automatically moves to look at him. However, gripping your chin firmly, Taehyung tuts at you. “Eyes on me,” he reminds you, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust of his hips. Tip of his cockhead ramming against your tonsils, you splutter around his girth, the reaction causing pools of saliva to surge around your tongue. Inadvertently, it causes you to soak his shaft in your spit, small trails oozing out of the tight seal of your mouth and down his shaft.

Meanwhile, behind you, Seokjin drops his hands to the backs of your thighs, and thumbs pressing to your ass, he spreads you open for him. Nether lips saturated with your wetness, he unabashedly takes in the sight of you: the way the tight ring of muscles twitches, the vibrator threatening to spill out of you, and how your flesh oozes your arousal. Thin, filmy strings of your essence leak from your cunt, the threads clinging to your folds and hanging in the air. Flicking his tongue, he catches one of the ropes on its hollow, and as your laden taste bathes his palate, he lets out a deep groan.

“Mmmm. You taste even better than the chocolate… Such a sweet cunt,” he groans, his lips tickling your pussy with each word. Wrapping his mouth around your folds, he teasingly sucks for a fleeting moment - pulling more of your wetness into his mouth - before releasing them with a wet pop. “I could eat you forever,” he adds with a purr.

Placing the tip of his tongue flat on your pulsing bundle of nerves, Seokjin licks a broad line up the length of your pussy; from the hood of your clit, along your slit, and towards your leaking hole. As your heady taste deepens - the thick slickness coating his taste buds and leaving them heavy with your flavour - he purrs in pleasure. The vibrations dart up your nerves, stimulating every single one, while simultaneously setting them aflame with lust. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation, and loosened by your pleasure, your pharynx eases slightly; allowing the crown of Taehyung’s cock to slip further into your throat.

Seokjin runs the tip of his tongue through the creases of your fold, and after swirling the point around your quivering entrance, he pulls away. Abruptly, he smacks your ass, and biting down harshly onto your ass cheeks - hard enough to leave the indents of his teeth into the surface, “Spread yourself,” he orders. The sharp impact has you yelping around Taehyung’s cock, and flesh of your mouth vibrating along his shaft, his head lolls back in pleasure as he lets out a guttural moan.

You dig your knees further into the bed - using them to both anchor your body, and your weight - before doing as he says. Fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, you spread both cheeks for Seokjin, bearing yourself wide open for him. The new position causes you to fall further onto Taehyung’s shaft, and as his blunt head pierces into you by another inch, you feel your throat constrict - protesting the intrusion. Responsively, you gag, the stifled sound of you retching around his length filling the air as the tears welling in your eyes thicken.

By now, he’s got just under half of his cock buried into the velvet cavern of your mouth; his cockhead pressing mercilessly against the aperture of your pharynx - threatening to slip past the ring of muscles and into your oesophagus. Pools of spit seep out of the straining seal of your lips, dribbling down your chin and over his shaft, leaving your skin glistening under the amber light. Taehyung takes in the sight of your misted gaze, and spit-stained face, and letting out a derisive coo, he indolently strokes your cheek. Thumb moving to brush your eye, he swipes one of your tears away.

“Such a messy slut,” he purrs, the snark to his words undercut by the affection that colours his eyes.

Deft fingertips tease the folds of your slit, Seokjin running his fingers through your soaked pussy. He hooks his knuckles around the small loop sticking out of you, before harshly tugging at it. As it pulls out of you, your walls stretch around the rounded girth, and easily, it slips from your cunt - aided by the copious amounts of your arousal that coat it. Despite its small size, the moment it’s out of the walls of your core, you whine in displeasure; your pussy feeling empty. However, your dissatisfaction doesn’t last long, because suddenly, an acute sensation of feverish pain floods your senses.

Out of the blue, Seokjin pours a dense stream of the liquified chocolate over the swells of your ass, the deluge flowing down the contours of your plump cheeks and towards your inner thighs - dangerously close to the lips of your cunt. Pained pleasure flares across your flesh, the heat radiating from the chocolate mixing with that of your cunt. Involuntarily, your back arches, and pushing your hips further into the air, you thrust your bare cunt towards Seokjin. Seizing the opportunity, Seokjin drags the broad of his tongue over your flesh, sensually lapping up the chocolate from your body. When his velvet appendage teases the lips of your sex, you moan in pleasure. Muscles of your pussy convulsing, your cunt releases a thick gush of wetness, your juices trickling down your slit and towards Seokjin’s tongue.

Humming under you, Seokjin places the tip of his tongue to your clit. Then, licking a line through your slit, he gathers your arousal onto the dip of his appendage. Your heady essence pools onto his palate, and your innate flavour mixing with the sweetness of the chocolate, Seokjin groans in pleasure. He presses his face deeper into your cunt, and tongue plunging into your rippling entrance, he buries it as far as he can into your internal walls. Feeling the agile muscles glide into your depths, your hips jerk in pleasure, a muffled cry of bliss resonating through the air.

Euphoria blurs your senses, and eyes fluttering shut, you feel your blood bubble with ecstasy. In response, your pharynx eases, and with a well-timed thrust, Taehyung pushes his cockhead further into your throat. Unwittingly, you swallow, and with one smooth motion, Taehyung buries the entirety of his cock into you - aided by the contracting muscles of your throat, and the spit coating his length. The thick of Taehyung’s girth pushes into your silken tightness, and with each inch he forces inside of you, the muscles of your oesophagus stretch - pulling apart around the shape of his member - until your nose is pressed against his abdomen.

“Ah- Fuck yes. That’s my Kitten,” Taehyung praises. Hands moving to grip your head, his fingers card through your scalp, only to fist around the roots of your hair.

Underneath you, Seokjin begins plunging his tongue in and out of you, accentuating each thrust with a whorl of his appendage through your walls. Each swirl has him tasting your pulsating cunt, stroking your inner flesh, and stimulating your nerve ending. Spikes of frenzied want lance through you with every ministration, and body prickling with heat, you sink further into pleasure. Nails digging into your ass, you spread your cheeks wider - purposely allowing Seokjin better access to your dripping entrance - before rocking your hips into his face.

Voluptuous lips tugging into a lopsided smirk, Seokjin retreats his tongue from inside of you. A moan of objection bubbles at the top of your throat, however, just as it starts to spill out of you and around Taehyung’s cock, you watch as the younger man exchanges a look with the older one. Curiosity colours your being, but before you can ponder their interchange, Seokjin suddenly presses something familiar flat against your clit. Abruptly, the vibrator flavours to life, and with it held to your sensitive, needy bundle of nerves, you shriek in pleasure - the sound straining around the shaft buried in your oesophagus.

Your shriek reverberates around Taehyung, and groaning at the stimulation, his hold on your hair tightens. A predatory, borderline sadistic, smirk curls onto your lovers lips, and watching the smile, your stomach somersaults. His eyes flash with mirth, and having known Taehyung for a while, you already know what’s coming - you can tell from his reaction. Without any semblance of a warning, Taehyung retreats his cock out of your throat. The veined underside drags against your tongue, and when his head reaches the aperture of your pharynx, you feel him roughly thrust back into you.

In one, fluid motion, his cock pierces into your throat once again, the feel of his blunt head ramming through the soft tightness of your oesophagus causing you to groan. Immediately, you gag around him, the lewd sounds of wet retching echoing through the air. Nevertheless, your gagging - paired with the rhythmic pulsing of your throat, and its welcoming warmth - only urge Taehyung on. One of his hands moves to wrap around your neck, and thumb pressing against the bulge of his cock, Taehyung begins gently stroking the outline.

Roughly, he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth; using your throat as his personal cocksleeve - as though it was made for his own pleasure. With each snap of his hips, his blunt head rams through your oesophagus, the smooth muscles straining around his girth, and causing your flesh to turn tender. Thumb pressing further onto your distended neck, Taehyung relishes in the feel of his shaft plunging in and out of your mouth. In response, he tightens his hold on your throat, just enough to further feel the shape of his own cock buried inside of you.

“Fuck. You’re so good for me, Kitten. Such a good cockhungry Kitten,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a particularly hard snap of his hips. “Ugh. God. You like this don’t you? You love it when I use your throat like this. When I fuck it hard, and raw,” he continues. The vulgarity of his words causes you to keen in pleasure, and tears spilling freely from your eyes, you look up at him imploringly. “Shit. Look at you. Crying while I bruise your oesophagus. You’re so good for us, Kitten. Fucking- shit,” he moans, his head falling back to rest on the headboard.

Between your thighs, Seokjin relentlessly presses the vibrator against your clit, and as it intensely thrums, you feel your clit smart with pleasure. With how hard it’s pressed to your throbbing bud, the reverberations jolting through every single one of your nerves and setting them on fire, you feel your skin flash with heat. Liquid lust floods your stomach, an intense knot forming deep within its pits. Your thighs quiver on either side of Seokjin’s face, and feeling the intensity of the toy’s thrumming, another wave of tears floods your eyes. As much as you enjoy the pleasure, it’s too much all at once - your neglected clit overly sensitive by now - and as a result, you sob around Taehyung’s cock - even as he continues thrusting it into your throat.

Vehemently, your hips squirm, in a bid to get away from the ferocious vibration. However, Seokjin is stronger than you, and all your struggle does is cause him to press the vibrator even harder into your engorged, weeping bundle of nerves. Heat blisters your skin, hot spikes of euphoria lancing at your being as your orgasm draws nearer and nearer. From the way your entrance erratically convulses, the quiver matched by your thighs and writhing hips, Seokjin knows you’re close. Tongue darting out, he presses the tip to your ringed entrance - relishing in the way it contracts around his appendage - before he tantalisingly traces the outline of your leaking hole.

“Don’t cum,” he orders, a playful lilt to his voice as he practically sings out the words. Despair intermingles with your pleasure at his words. You need to cum. In fact, with how close you are, you don’t think you even have the will to hold off. Something you know he knows. “If you cum, Taehyung will punish you,” Seokjin drawls. As he speaks, his tongue plunges further into your cunt - impaling you on the velvet muscle - and sliding into you, the vibrations of his words spark through your internal walls.

Despite his warning, between the unrelenting vibrator against your clit, and Seokjin’s words reverberating through your internal walls, you feel yourself careen off of the brim of pleasure. Ecstasy surges through you, the overwhelming euphoria of your orgasm flooding your entire being, and causing your blood to bubble within your veins. Body falling forward, your hands fall from your ass and onto the mattress, your toes curling while your fists ball into the sheets. Above you, Taehyung rips his cock out of you, and senses overpowered by rapturous bliss, you barely register the pain of his cock retreating from your oesophagus. Rather, you fall limply onto the bed, your cheek pressing to Taehyung’s thigh as you weep in pleasure.

As you drift off on the wave of your climax, Seokjin pulls the vibrator from your clit, and instead, he begins gently rubbing your clit with his thumb - drawing out your orgasm. Gradually, though, you slowly come back to reality, your breathing ragged as you gasp for air. Muscles still trembling, the fog of your orgasm clears, and you still when you realise you’d disobeyed one of Seokjin’s commands. Lifting your head, you look up at Taehyung through teary eyes, your lover simply looking down at you with a wide grin. Fingers threaded through your hair, he gently strokes your scalp. Yet, in spite of his affectionate gesture, from the dark glint in his eyes, you already know what’s coming.

“Did we give you permission to cum, Kitten?” he coos, his voice deceptively sweet.

“N-No,” you stammer, your voice hoarse, and weak - undoubtedly from when Taehyung had fucked it raw. Behind you, Seokjin bites down onto your ass, the sharp pain causing you to whimper.

“I specifically told you not to cum, Princess,” Seokjin purrs, his lips trailing kisses up your spine.

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer, though, you already know it’s too late. Especially when you see Taehyung’s smirk widen, something wicked twinkling in his eyes.

Gently stroking your hair, “Sorry? Oh. You will be, Kitten,” he promises.

With that, the two pull away from you, and swapping places, Taehyung moves behind you, while Seokjin moves in front of you. Just like Taehyung, Seokjin is completely naked, and as you take in the sight of him lounging against the headboard, you find yourself drooling. Though, that could just be from when Taehyung had fucked your throat. Seokjin is much more built than Taehyung, sinewy muscles - honed from his time at the gym - rippling under his taut flesh. They accentuate his broad shoulders, and long limbs, somehow making his already imposing figure seem bigger than it already is.

Strong arms encircle your body, and with careful movements, Seokjin moves you back into position - getting you on your hands and knees once again. Limbs still shaky from your orgasm, however, you simply flop in his lap, your shoulders drooping to press against either of his thighs, while your face rests against the corner of his hip. Despite his dominant aura, Seokjin smiles at you, tenderly stroking the sweat-matted hair out of your eyes and behind your head. His affectionate gesture has you purring in contentment; only for the sound to morph into a rumble of wanton need when you spot his throbbing erection.

It stands at full attention between his thighs, tall and proud. His cockhead is an angry shade of cherry-mauve, and sticky with the precum leaking from his slit. From your position on his hip, it somehow looks even more daunting than it usually is, the angle of your head making it seem impossibly thick. Prominent veins streaking his length, they pulse intermittently, the surreptitious movements drawing attention to his immense girth. Mouth salivating - and this time most definitely because of him - your lips part and you whimper.

“Does my Princess want my cock in her mouth?” Seokjin coos, his fingers mindlessly toying with a strand of your hair. Nodding your head, you shift into a more upright position, your mouth impatiently hovering over his crown. Seokjin’s hand trails down to your neck, and when you wince - the internal muscles still raw - he delicately strokes the column, “Taehyung was rough with you, wasn’t he?” he murmurs. You simply nod your head in response.

“She liked it,” Taehyung chimes in from somewhere in the room, and hearing his voice further away then you’d thought him to be, you turn your head to find him. Nevertheless, this time, it’s Seokjin who stops you.

“Uh-uh. Taehyung’s had enough of your attention. Now it’s my turn,” Seokjin tuts. Hand moving from your neck, he grips the base of his shaft before smacking your lips with his cockhead twice. “Come on, Princess,” he urges.

Not needing to be told twice, your head dips forward, and tongue darting out, you drag a kittenish lick around the circumference of his glistening crown. Taste buds dragging over his cockhead, his salted precum coats your palate, and you moan in pleasure - the sound emphasised by Seokjin’s own growl of approval. Encouraged by the sound, you repeat the action - your tongue slower this time. Placing the flat of your muscle against his slit, you lap at it, relishing in the way his arousal leaks out of him and directly onto your tongue.

Watching the action with dark eyes, “Do I taste good, Princess?” he chuckles, causing you to eagerly nod. “Then how about you worship my cock, huh?” he asks, his fingers weaving into your hair.

Warm lips brushing against his frenulum, you place a soft kiss to where his cockhead meets his shaft. Then, while keeping your eyes firmly locked onto his, you delicately trace one of the more prominent veins that ridge his shaft. Rhythmically, it pulses under the weight of your wet muscles, and savouring the discernible throb, you repeat your action. Following it to the hilt of his shaft, you take one of his balls into his mouth. You roll it gently in your mouth, revelling in the way it sits on your tongue - heavy, and full of cum. The entire time, you stare up at your lover; Seokjin’s eyes growing more and more tumultuous with each reverent action.

You release his sac with a pop, and lips dragging over the length of his underside, you track your way back to his cockhead. Mouth parting, you wrap it around his tip, only to teasingly suckle at it. Your action has Seokjin’s head lolling back, and with your gazes still locked onto each other, you take more of his head into your wanting cavern - until the entire cockhead sits just inside the seam of your lips. And it’s at that exact moment, that Taehyung returns - only to push something against the rim of your ass.

Eyes bugging out, a cry of pleasure tears from your throat - your mouth falling open around Seokjin’s cockhead. Relentlessly, Taehyung presses the toy into you - the tight of your walls gradually opening around the rounded, lubed up object. The widest part of the item strains against your puckered entrance, and feeling a light smart of pain, your body jerks when the entirety of it slips into you - your muscles swallowing it up. Fingertips brushing against your asshole, Taehyung grips something, only to twist it - and feeling the toy spin inside of your ass, you let out a moan.

Your pleasure doesn’t last long, however, because soon enough, Taehyung is pressing the elongated protrusion right up against your clit. Feeling the silicon rod nestled between the folds of your pussy, and the silicon pad against your bundle of nerves, you let out a whimper. You know exactly what it is. An anal vibrator paired with a clit stimulator. As you recognise the item, your cunt gushes involuntarily. Whatever punishment Taehyung had planned for you was undoubtedly going to be exciting - if a little intense. Though, that only has anticipation colouring your veins.

Dark gaze transfixed to your ass, Taehyung revels in the sight of your asshole quivering around the toy, and unable to help himself, he spanks your ass - hard. The sharp slap echoes through the air, causing you to cry out and jerk forward, Seokjin’s cockhead dragging across your lips and over your chin. Watching the flesh of your plump cheeks ripple, Taehyung places either of his hands onto each globe before kneading them open.

“Your ass always looks so fucking hot when it’s filled up… Can’t wait to fill it with my cock,” he murmurs; the compliment causing you to croon out his name.

However, you don’t have long to relish in his appraisal. Because, all of a sudden, the vibrator comes to life. Fiercely, it begins thrumming, stimulating the inner muscles of your ass. At the same time, the protrusion along your folds and clit begins to vibrate - the tremors stimulating your slick folds and throbbing bundle of nerves. With your recent orgasm, your cunt is still sensitive, and pleasure bolting across your sensitised nerves, you howl in pleasure. Jerking over Seokjin, your head falls onto his abdomen - his erect cock inadvertently slapping your face - while your hips writhe wildly.

“Oh fuck- Taehyung, too much,” you gasp, your ass thrashing reckless as you try to get away from the pleasure. Regardless, no matter how hard you try, the vibrator is firmly embedded inside of you - making it impossible to shy away from it.

“Too much? You don’t know too much just yet, Kitten,” Taehyung drawls. Still, even as he speaks, “Remember Princess, your safe word is ‘Roses’,” he reminds you.

“And your safe signal is snapping your fingers,” Seokjin adds. You nod your head, letting them both know that you remember.

“Good girl,” Seokjin praises with another caress of your hair. Then, lifting your head, he places your mouth above his cockhead once again. “Now, why don’t you warm my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, while Taehyung punishes you for being a disobedient slut,” Seokjin purrs.

Whimpering at his words, you do as he says, your lips automatically pouting as you take him into your mouth once again. Jaw straining around his girth, you stare at Seokjin through the thick of your lashes, basking in the heavy weight of his length against your tongue. Sooner than you’d like, his crown bumps into the back of your throat, a choked gag warning Seokjin that you can’t fit any more of him into you - lest he repeat Taehyung’s actions and force himself into your throat. However, knowing your throat needs some respite, Seokjin simply keeps himself within the confines of your mouth; revelling in the wet chasm of your silken cheeks and velvet tongue.

Out of the blue, using the moment you audibly splutter around Seokjin’s cock as a signal, Taehyung pours a considerable amount of melted chocolate onto you - all over your ass. Back arching, you hiss as the sweltering heat trickles all over your plump cheeks: trails of blistering pain flaring over your flesh. The stinging ache, paired with the intense vibrations of the toy inside your ass and against your clit, has your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. Entire body convulsing under the intense sensation, you’re suddenly flung over the edge of your orgasm, and straight into bliss.

Orgasm unexpectedly flooding through you, the unadulterated rapture surges through your nerves, invigorating each and every one of them with euphoria. Eyes screwing shut, you wail out Taehyung and Seokjin’s names; the sound coming out animalistic, and inarticulate. Responsively, the walls of your sex clamp: your ass muscles tightening around the vibrator - unwittingly causing the vibrations to intensify; while the flesh of your cunt contracts around nothing - emphasising the growing emptiness. Watching you cum, the vibrator suddenly comes to a halt, and gasping for air, you suck in a ragged breath.

Gradually, your orgasm washes through you, leaving you a trembling mess while you mindlessly suckle at Seokjin’s cock. Cool hand pressing to your thighs, Taehyung tenderly strokes the supple lengths, the repetitive motions somewhat soothing. The heat from the molten confection slowly dissipates, and through the haze of your ebbing climax, your eyebrows furrow - especially when you feel the chocolate begin to dry and harden. Sucking in a shaky breath, you look up at Seokjin curiously, your lover simply shrugging in response - already knowing what you’re asking.

“Don’t worry, Princess. Just focus on my cock, hmmm?” he reminds you. Blinking owlishly, your eyes light up with recognition - the fog of your euphoria completely clearing. Tongue flicking against his ridged underside, you begin suckling at him once again.

Without warning, Taehyung spanks you - from the tops of your thighs, to the plump flesh of your ass. Unlike before, when it was just his large palm, this time you feel a hard surface impact the supple skin, and eyes widening you recognise the sensation of the paddle. The abrupt ministration has you mewling around Seokjin’s cock, and eyelids fluttering, thick tracks of tears roll down your face. Once again, Taehyung repeats the action, though, this time, he brings the paddle onto your other cheek. Hips undulating, you push them back into him, another hoarse resonating through the air. Under his action, you feel the hardened chocolate crack, a few pieces falling to the mattress.

Taehyung shifts behind you, and picking up one of the chunks, he runs it through your pussy. Teasingly, he strokes it through your slit - the touch light, and feathery - and bringing it to your honeyed hole, he slicks the jagged slab in your arousal. A shudder runs down your spine, the tantalising caress of his fingers and the pointed edge of the chocolate causing you to groan around Seokjin’s shaft. Once the piece is sufficiently coated in your wetness, Taehyung draws it away from your cunt. Instead, he reaches around your body, Seokjin tugging your hair and pulling you off of his cock.

Dissatisfied whine of protest erupting from the midst of your throat, you unwrap your mouth from Seokjin’s thick shaft - just in time for Taehyung to drop the slick-coated chocolate directly onto the older man’s length. Pupils dilating at the sight of the dark confection against your lover’s shaft, your tongue darts out, and thoughtlessly, you lick your lips. Seokjin watches the movement, his eyes shining with mirth at the ravenous hunger sparkling in your eyes.

Stroking your hair out of your forehead, “Are you ready for your punishment, Princess?” Seokjin questions.

“This is punishment?” you counter, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. Hearing your words, Taehyung immediately brings the paddle onto your ass. The impact hits harder this time, a heavy smack resounding through the air while more of the dried chocolate falls from your body. Sharp pain erupts over your tender flesh, causing shockwaves of smarting pleasure to ripple across your veins.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Kitten,” Taehyung warns, the edge of the paddle running down the seam of your ass, only for him to press it against the toy in your ass. His gesture has the vibrator pushing in deeper, and head falling forward, your chest rumbles in bliss.

An airy laugh tremors from Seokjin’s throat, “Your punishment is Taehyung paddling that pretty little ass till it’s nice and tender,” he purrs. Then tugging your head towards his cock, the piece of chocolate still resting precarious on his throbbing erection, “This is just for fun,” he continues. “Now, suck.”

Face lowering, you wrap your mouth around his cock once again, Seokjin slipping the chocolate between your teeth just before you enclose your lips around his girth. Instantly, the creamy sweetness of the cocoa bursts onto your palate, the sugary essence mixing with the heady one of your own wetness, and the slightly salty bitterness of Seokjin’s precum. They mingle together onto your tongue, the tastes blending together into an inebriating flavour that has the inner flesh of your cheeks salivating. Moaning around the heavy intrusion in your mouth, you expertly manoeuvre the piece to the underside of Seokjin’s cock, and pressing the flat of your tongue against it, you begin lapping at both the chocolate, and his shaft.

Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, Seokjin angles your head to look up at him. Turbulent eyes, rife with desirous hunger, take you in, before he lets out a low growl, “God, Taehyung was right. You really are pretty when you look at us with a mouth full of cock.” You purr in response, your tongue dragging over the chocolate and towards a pulsating vein that runs along his length. Out of nowhere, the vibrator inside of you begins humming. The suddenness of it has your body jerking, your spine contorting as your mouth falls open in pleasure.

“O-Oh f-fuck,” you raspily weep, your eyes screwing shut at the mingling sensations. Simultaneously, the vibrations stimulate the tight muscles of your ass, along with the throbbing bud of your clit. Unadulterated bliss floods your nerve endings, your stomach quivering in tandem to the pulsating toy within you. Breathing turning ragged, you distractedly suckle at Seokjin’s chocolate stained cock.

As the vibrator pulses inside you, Taehyung brings the paddle onto your ass again in four rapt slaps, alternating between each of your cheeks. With each impact, the punishing force increases, aided by his strong arms, and causing a strangled cry of pain and pleasure to bubble from your throat. Every collision of the hard surface against your soft cheek has more and more of the dried chocolate cracking and falling off of your skin. More of your bare flesh revealed, the next of Taehyung’s spanks lands directly onto your plump muscle, and though the fatty tissue absorbs some of the impact, your ass still flares with heat.

“P-Please… T-Taehyung,” you cry out, the words hoarse and slightly broken.

Between the intense reverberations of the silicon toy, and the powerful spanks of the paddle, you begin to sob and moan: the blistering pain interweaving with euphoric rapture. Tears well within your eyes, thick tracks of salt running down your cheeks, as you lose yourself in the juxtaposing sensations. Taehyung’s eyes drop to the side of your raw ass and puffy cunt. Filled with the silicon toy, your puckered rim twitching intermittently - the tight muscles threatening to push out the object with each contraction. Just below, thick strings of your arousal seep out of your pussy, the filmy ropes hanging in the air and sticking to the sides of your thighs.

“Do you like that, Kitten? The way I spank your ass raw while you suck Seokjin’s cock?” Taehyung intones, the derisive lilt heavy in his voice. You merely let out a garble of affirmation, your tongue loosened by pleasure, and weighed down by the velvet weight of your other lover’s shaft.

The overwhelming ecstasy soon grows far too intense, and wildly, you begin writhing your hips. Deliberately, you attempt to evade Taehyung’s paddles, while simultaneously trying to push the vibrator out of you. Nonetheless, as if locked onto your plump globes, Taehyung strikes you with practiced ease; alternating between the harsh spanks and pressing the edge to your ass, keeping the toy pressed into the snug heat of your ass. A sweltering heat overcomes you, your nerves set afire by Taehyung’s ministration, and thighs shaking erratically, you sob out the names of your lovers.

“T-Too m-much. It’s t-too much,” comes your distorted whine, your nails scratching the mattress.

Hearing the inarticulate garble of your words, Seokjin coos, “Aww, has my Princess had enough of her punishment?” Through the thick fog of pleasure, you vaguely register his words and nod your head. Behind you, Taehyung brings the paddle onto your cheeks - right in the middle - causing you to howl.

“Are you sorry, Kitten?” he questions. Barely able to form coherent sentences, you nod your head while blubbering. Nonetheless, despite your answer, Taehyung spanks you once again. “Why are you sorry?” he asks.

You suck in a shaky, jagged breath, “I’m s-sorry for cumming w-without your p-permission,” you weep.

“Good Kitten. Now, cum,” Taehyung orders, pressing the paddle’s edge to the toy. His ministration forces the thrumming vibrator further into you, and as the silicon protrusion presses against your clit - intensifying the reverberations - you wail out both their names.

Dry sob emanating from your lips, the heightened pleasure hurtles you off of the edge. Viciously, your body trembles - every muscle quivering with ecstasy - as you come undone between them. Mouth falling open, you release Seokjin’s cock, your cheek falling listlessly onto his thigh as your orgasm rockets through you. White spots blind your vision, and the knot in your stomach unravelling abruptly, your body stills. Then, with an ear-piercing shriek, an intense sense of rapture overwhelms you, only to be replaced by an intoxicating sense of relief - powerful gushes of your cum squirting out of you. Feeling your arousal pelt his thighs - the deep scent of your sex deepening - Taehyung lets out a groan.

Immediately, he rips the toy out of you - the sudden stimulation making you sob harder - only to press his fingers to your clit. He furiously begins rubbing your clit, his ministration drawing out your orgasm even further. The pain of overstimulation grips at your cunt, and eyes screwing shut, your jerk your hips - in a bid to get away from him. Seeing the way you shy from him, along with your fucked out state, Taehyung takes pity on you, allowing you to flop bonelessly onto the mattress as you come down from your high. The tide of your climax ebbs through you, and drifting down to reality, you inhale a deep, ragged breath. Cunt trembling erratically, you whine when the ache between your thighs grows prominent - your walls desperate to feel something fill it up.

“F-Fuck me,” you stammer, your words weak and raspy - the tender muscles of your throat straining under the sound. Delicately, Taehyung’s fingers flit down your spine, and tracing invisible shapes onto the surface of your skin, he bends over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Climb onto Seokjin,” he urges.

Strong arms wrap around you, and feeling Seokjin gather you into his arms, you allow him to place your body onto his lap. Once your thighs are straddling his hips, Seokjin grips the base of his thick shaft and runs the head through your folds. A wanton mewl spills from your mouth, your sex splaying around his leaking cockhead as he stains your saturated flesh in his own precum. Hips squirming, you attempt to position him at your entrance and take him into you - your desperation rising twofold. Letting out a throaty chuckle, Seokjin leans forward and nips your jaw, your eyes fluttering at the sensation, before he lowers you onto his cock.

The blunt pressure of his crown presses up against the ringed muscles of your entrance, and your head falling backwards, you feel his head pop into you. Your body twitches, the sudden, thick intrusion causing you to croon in pleasure. A searing burn ripples through your cunt, your muscles protesting the way his immense girth stretches out your inner walls. Behind you, Taehyung places his hand onto the middle of your back, and pushing it, he causes you to fall forward. Your hands instantly move to brace themselves on the headboard, on either side of Seokjin’s body.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. Such a tiny little cunt. Are you going to be able to take my cock, Princess?” Seokjin taunts, a playful, lopsided smirk teasing at his lips.

Keening in pleasure, “I can take it,” you respond, the words coming out higher pitched than you’d intended.

“Then take it,” he growls.

Utilising your new position, Seokjin’s hands trail down to grip the swells of your hips, and fingers digging into them, he lowers you further onto his cock. Inch by inch, he fills you up - the broad width of his shaft spreading your innermost walls, shaping them around his cock. As his cock pierces into the warm sheath of your body, his length seems almost unending, and soon, a dull pressure builds up within your abdomen. Dropping your gaze down, it trails past the ripped expanse of his torso - each muscle rippling under his taut skin - and towards your entrance.

Guttural groan spilling from your throat, you relish in the sight of Seokjin’s cock impaling you - your walls clenching involuntarily when you realise he’s only about half way into you. Walls of your cunt tightening around his shaft, Seokjin lets out a growl, his fingers digging further into your hips - hard enough that you worry he’ll bruise them. Behind you, Taehyung’s dark eyes are fixated onto your cunt, his gaze soaking in the way the muscles of your entrance stretch thin around Seokjin - your cunt clearly straining to fit the large intrusion. It’s almost too erotic for him, and his erection becoming almost too painful, he begins pumping it with his fist.

“Fuck. Look at the way that pussy stretches. Such a greedy little hole,” Taehyung purrs, his hand palming his cock faster.

Seokjin continues burying himself into your velvet depths, and as he pushes deeper into you, the dull ache in your stomach morphs into a blunt ache. Mouth falling open in a strained cry, your fingers curl around the headboard - in a bid to find some much needed purchase - your knuckles turning white under the hold. Breath turning harsh, your hips start to writhe, your body looking for a sense of reprieve from the unrelenting hardness piercing into you. Nonetheless, all you do is cause Seokjin to slip further into you - your trembling walls rhythmically gripping his walls in a pleasurable massage.

Unexpectedly, with a sudden thrust, Seokjin sinks the remainder of his cock into you. In one fluid motion, the crown of his cockhead bumps into the soft walls of your cervix, your ass simultaneously pressing flush against his thighs. The sudden plunge has your muscles locking, and back contorting viciously, you cry out in pleasure. Pain flares through your insides, a blistering heat flooding through your cunt as your internal walls are forced to stretch around his girthy shaft. Underneath you, Seokjin hisses - your sheath gripping him almost painfully - and leaning forward, he roughly bites down onto your nipple.

“Oh fuck- you’re so fucking wet… and tight,” he groans.

“Mmm, her cunt looks so good stuffed with cock,” Taehyung hums. Dexterous fingers moving to where both you and Seokjin are connected, the younger man begins tracing the tight seal of your entrance. The feathery motion has you crooning, your ringed muscles twitching under his touch. Taehyung lets out a soft laugh, and trailing his fingers up, he begins circling his digits around the puckered rim, “But… you’ll look even better with my cock in your ass,” he continues.

Hands curling from your hips to your ass, Seokjin palms both of your plump globes into his hand, and fingernails pressing into your skin, he pulls them apart - splaying you open for Taehyung. At Seokjin’s gesture, the younger man lets out a hum of thanks. Bed dipping behind you, Taehyung shifts further down the mattress, until his face is level with your spread ass. Boldly, his tongue darts out, and then placing it to your cunt, he licks at both your spread pussy, and Seokjin’s thick cock. Twin sounds of pleasure echo through the air, Seokjin’s groan intermingling with your moan, both of your hips bucking into Taehyung’s face.

Corners of his lips twitching, Taehyung smirks, and repeats the action - the velvet appendage moving slower this time. Teasingly, he laves at where your sexes are connected: the point of his tongue tracing the outline of your straining ring of muscles, as well as the girth that splits it open. Heavy strings of your arousal pool onto his tongue, your wetness oozing through your sheath and onto Seokjin’s balls, and he gathers as much as he can onto the hollow of his palate. Then, trailing his tongue upwards, he licks through the seam of your ass. Breath caught in your throat, your oesophageal muscles tighten, and when you feel him flatten his tongue against your asshole, a deep moan emanates from your chest.

“My Kitten loves getting her ass eaten, doesn’t she?” Taehyung laughs, his voice lowering by a few octaves. Each word has his warm breath wafting over your ass, causing you to shudder and nod your head. With another laugh, Taehyung spits onto your asshole - dribbling a concoction of his own spit and your arousal onto the tight entrance.

You feel the mixture tail along your asshole, and down towards your filled cunt - the combined fluids slickening your puckered rim. Through rapt fascination, Taehyung scrutinises the sporadically twitching rings of muscles. The entrance of your ass slightly gapes, and as the muscles contract, they inadvertently suck in the mix of juices into you. As though entranced by the sight, he drags his finger through the sloppy mess and lubricates his finger in as much of it as he can. Then, slowly, he presses the tip of his forefinger against your asshole.

Body perking at the sensation, you sit up slightly - the movement causing Seokjin’s cockhead to ram further into the groove of your cervix. A gasp of shock falls from your lips, the sound mingled with pleasure, as you feel Taehyung slide his finger into your ass - the length aided by the makeshift lube - until it’s hilt deep in you. Experimentally, he wriggles it inside of you, and feeling the hot muscles of your ass stimulated, your body falls forward once again. Seizing the opportunity, Seokjin’s mouth encloses around your pert nipple.

“A-Ah. Hyungie… Jinnie…” you moan, a shudder running down your spine at the mix of sensations.

Seokjin’s cock is still completely sheathed inside of you - his pulsating member stroking every single one of your erogenous zones. Meanwhile, his teeth harshly tease your nipple - his tongue languidly whorling around the hardened buds outline, while he bites and suckles at it roughly. At the same time, Taehyung thrusts his finger into you, twisting it intermittently as he tests the pliancy of your ass. Tingles of pleasure race up and down your spine, and noticing the way your cunt clenches - pulsating in tandem to Taehyung’s finger plunging in and out of your asshole - Seokjin grins against your breast.

“Come on Taehyung, hurry up and prep that cute ass so we can fuck her,” he urges. Words vibrating against your tit, you gasp in ecstasy, a fresh wave of arousal dripping out of you and down Seokjin’s balls.

Emboldened by the older man’s words, Taehyung presses a second finger into your back entrance. Under the ministration, your features twist into a wince - a dull sting rippling through you at the stretch. However, from the amount of times both Seokjin and Taehyung have fucked your ass, it quickly dissipates, morphing into blissful euphoria. Taehyung begins thrusting two fingers into your ass, alternating between wiggling them and plunging them hilt deep into you. Over and over again, you feel his digits drive into you, the sensation stimulating Seokjin’s cock and your pussy through the thin lining that separates your cunt from your ass.

Out of nowhere, Taehyung splays his fingers, and feeling your ass stretch around, you let out a hollow moan. Taehyung immediately thrusts his tongue into the gaping hole, and feeling his wet appendage stroke the inner walls of your back entrance, your hollow moan transforms into a guttural groan. Expertly, he licks your ass, his velvet muscle whorling against the internal flesh as he douses them in a thick coating of his spit. His actions cause your blood to bubble in your veins, and heat prickling at your skin, unbridled pleasure flits over your being.

Pulling his tongue out of you, Taehyung pours something into you. A cold sensation floods your ass, and feeling the lube slide into your depths, a soughed croon spills from your lips. Digits pumping into you once again, Taehyung spreads the substance over your walls - leaving them slick in a mixture of his spit and the lubrication. Once your ass is sufficiently wet, he spreads his fingers one final time, only to spit into your ass. The thick blob slides into your open hole, and as the warmth of it runs along your walls, your puckered rim twitches. Fingers retreating out of your asshole, Taehyung suddenly spanks your fleshy cheek.

Hand palming at the cheek, “There we go. Nice and prepped,” he murmurs.

“Taehyung… please,” you whimper, and urgency evident in your voice, both your lovers laugh.

Not one to disappoint, Taehyung shifts closer to you. With Seokjin still keeping your ass spread, the younger man grips his cock and presses the head to your puckered entrance. Feeling his leaking cockhead stroke your lubricious back entrance, you mewl in wanton need and purposely buck your hips into you. Palm dropping to the small of your back, Taehyung keeps a heavy hand onto your body, the firm pressure causing you to still. Then, he begins pressing forward. The moment he applies pressure to your asshole, however, your muscles autonomously clench.

Bulbous cockhead pushing against your back entrance, Taehyung groans, “This is going to be a tight fit.”

All of a sudden, with a strong thrust, Taehyung squeezes his cock through the tight ring of muscles - the crown only slightly fighting the constricting hole. Walls flaring with a searing burn, you shriek out Taehyung’s name - your asshole rendered even tighter by Seokjin’s immense girth buried into your cunt. Face lowering, Taehyung’s plump lips graze over your shoulder, and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, he gently hushes you. Below you, Seokjin soothingly lavishes kisses along your sternum, his hands caressing your ass in comfort.

“B-Big,” you shallowly gasp, tears stinging at your eyes once again.

“You can do it, Princess,” Seokjin murmurs, his words rumbling between the valley of your breasts.

Thick by thick inch, Taehyung feeds his unyielding hardness into your ass, pulling the flesh apart and around the shape of his cock. With every part of his length that impales you, your pliant back entrance stretches - his blunt cockhead spearing further and further into you. Halfway buried into you, you let out a whine of pain, your fingernails digging into the wood of the headboard. Between Seokjin’s cock in your cunt, and Taehyung’s shaft pushing into your asshole, you’re sure that you’re going to split apart.

“So… fucking… tight,” Taehyung breathes out, short pants breaking the words apart, the restraint heavy in his baritone.

In spite of the pain that floods through your sex, you whimper in pleasure - an undercurrent of euphoria weaving the stinging ache as your lovers fill you up in a way only they can. Their hard cocks stretch you out, their lengths carving their shape into your waiting, and welcoming, depths. Eventually, however, Taehyung bottoms out within you - the hilt of his shaft pressing to your puckered, while his hips slap the plump cheeks of your ass. Throat tightening at the overwhelming fullness, your lips part in a silent scream.

“T-Taehyung, S-Seokjin” you whimper.

Nuzzling his nose into the back of your hair, “I’m here, Kitten,” Taehyung mutters.

“Me too, Princess,” Seokjin follows, his own lips pressing a tender kiss to your nipple.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you voluntarily clench your ass around his their cocks. As your muscles tighten, “Fuck-” they groans.

“Please… fuck me,” you urge. Simultaneously, as if they’ve practiced, they both inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“Shit. Hold on then,” Seokjin remarks.

“Get ready, Kitten. We’re going to fuck you till you cry,” Taehyung warns.

You open your mouth to retort, however, at the exact moment, the both of them retreat out of you - their lengths dragging against each other through the thin lining between your cunt and ass. Then, abruptly, they drive back into you. Instantaneously, the words on your lips die. Instead, a strangled cry of ecstasy is forced from the base of your throat. Without any further warning, they snap their hips, their cocks hammering into your warm, heated depths. As their lengths surge into the sheath of your body, you scream out their names.

Their pace is stilted for a few moments, their rough thrusts causing your body to jerk and bounce over them as blinding ecstasy overtakes your senses. However, swiftly, and with practiced ease, they quickly fall into rhythm with each other. Each movement has them plunging their cocks as deep into you as they can, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air, and with each sound, they elicit a moan from deep within their chest. A fierce pressure builds in the pit of your abdomen from their brutal thrusts, and toes curling in pleasure, you allow them to practically rut into you - their cocks slamming into your depths over and over again.

“F-Fuck… H-Harder,” you urge, in spite of the sharpening ache that builds within your stomach.

At your behest, they somehow increase their movements, and their new, borderline punishing pace, has your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. Their change in motion alters their rhythm, and instead of plunging into you at the same time, now, when Seokjin thrusts into your cunt, Taehyung pulls out of your ass. Only for Seokjin to then retreat from your cunt, and for Taehyung to pierce his shaft into your back entrance. Mercilessly, they use your body as their cocksleeve, and their veined cocks drag against every single erogenous zone buried in your innermost walls.

A mix of desirous need and blissful euphoria courses through your bloodstream, and feeling spikes of white-hot heat lance at your being, your body begins trembling. Delirious with pleasure, and as a result of their cocks constantly slamming into you, your low moans morph into slurred sobs. The fog of euphoria descends upon you, and as its haze clouds your mind, you lose yourself into the relentless pleasure they reap onto your body. Soon, your walls begin rippling around them, and as both your cunt and ass grip their shafts, both your lovers let out throat groans.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long. Your ass is so... fucking... tight,” Taehyung intones deeply, each word emphasised by a harsh thrust that drives his cock further into your back entrance.

Below you, while mouthing at your bouncing tit, “Same here. God, you’re so fucking wet… and your cunt won’t stop tightening around my cock,” Seokjin breathlessly adds before biting onto your nipple.

“C-Cum in me. P-Please,” you stammer, and tongue loosened by pleasure, your words come out distorted. Nonetheless, understanding them, your lovers quicken their pace - something you’d thought wholly impossible.

“Are you close, Princess?” Seokjin questions, causing you to nod your head furiously.

Taehyung’s hand curls around your body, and pushing it between your thighs, he begins furiously rubbing your clit. Lips falling to your shoulder, he bites down - hard enough to leave the indents of his teeth into your flesh - and, “Cum,” he orders.

That one action has you suddenly careening off of the precipice of your climax, and diving head first into sheer, unadulterated pleasure. A croaked sob falls from your lips, and blubbering out their name, you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks. Veins sweltering with burning euphoria, you feel the heat of your orgasm flood your entire being. Between them, your entire body begins convulsing, and back contorting violently, your walls clamp around them in a vice-like grip. Throughout your orgasm, your lovers continue fucking into you, their cocks spearing into your cunt and ass respectively, paired with Taehyung ruthlessly toying with your clit, you feel the knot in your stomach suddenly loosen.

High of your orgasm consuming you wholly, you feel an overwhelming elation sweep through you, and carrying you on it’s tide, you float away from reality. Walls clenching almost painfully, Seokjin and Taehyung hiss as they feel powerful jets of cum squirt out of you - the wetness gushing against both their thighs, as well as Seokjin’s abdomen. As you gush around Seokjin’s cock, your cum soaking into the sheets below you, twin roars fill the air. Using your own stick juices as lubrication, both of them slam into you at the same time - burying their cocks as deep into you as is humanly possible.

Without any warning, their cocks swell inside of you, and viciously pulsating, they begin to cum. Thick rope after thick rope of their warm essence floods your depths; Seokjin emptying himself deep into your cunt - his seed spilling directly against your quivering cervix - while Taehyung’s own cum pours straight into the rippling depths of your ass. Through the blurry haze of your orgasm, you vaguely register their warmth enveloping your guts, their heavy seed painting your flesh white. Responsively, the walls of your pussy and ass clench around their cocks, the battered muscles milking as much of their cum out of their lengths and into you.

The three of you sail down from your ecstatic highs, and as the euphoria ebbs away, you’re left basking in the post-orgasmic haze that enshrouds the three of you. Chest heaving for air - in a bid to satiate the dull ache in your lungs - you bonelessly flop onto Seokjin, every ounce of your energy dissipating from your bones. Automatically, Seokjin’s arms wind around you, a small mewl slipping from your lips when you feel his warm chest press flush against your own. Body still wired, you tremble in his arms - your muscles quaking intermittently as the aftershocks of your orgasm continue sweeping through you.

Gradually, the blurry fog clears from your mind, and brain kicking into gear, you let out a small moan when you feel the way their cum fills up your depths. You don’t get time to relish in the feeling, however, because soon, Taehyung begins pulling his cock out of your ass. Flaccid shaft slipping from your depths, you flinch, his length dragging across your raw inner flesh. The moment he retreats out of you completely, his cum rushes out of you, and as it leaks from your gaping asshole, you let out another groan. Eyes dropping to the sight, Taehyung lets out a growl of approval.

“Sloppy slut,” he coos, and despite the derisive words, the affection in his intonation causes you to preen. Then, with a kiss to your naked, sweat-soaked shoulder, you feel Taehyung climb off of the bed.

With the younger man disappearing, Seokjin takes the opportunity to gently flip the two of you over. Body weary, your muscles protest the movement, a displeasured groan emanating from your throat. Seokjin only chuckles at the sound, and when you're firmly on your back, he slowly pulls his own cock out of your battered cunt. Once again, you let out a wince, your thighs trembling at the sensitivity in your core. Bending forward, Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead, before murmuring a gentle apology. You sigh at his gesture, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

In a matter of moments, Taehyung returns to the two of you, a glass of water and a damp towel in his head. As he approaches the bed, he hands Seokjin the cup, the older man pulling away from you and towards your side, while Taehyung takes his place between your thighs. Perching beside you, Seokjin lifts your back using his strength, and after he’s propped you up, he places the rim of the glass to your lips. Coolness of the water teasing your lips, your throat suddenly feels dry, and swiftly, you gulp down the drink.

“Slowly,” Seokjin warns, his hand automatically lowering the glass. You merely nod your head, before slowing down.

Meanwhile, Taehyung spreads your thighs, pulling apart your puffy folds, he begins swiping the warm cloth through your sex - clearing up the mess. Delicately, he runs the towel over you, from your leaking cunt, to your dripping asshole. It only takes him a few moments, and once you’re thoroughly clean - every trace of your mixed fluids soaked into the terry cloth fabric - he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. As his plump lips caress your oversentised clit, you moan, your hand autonomously moving to push his head away as your thighs clamp shut.

Laughing, “Sorry,” Taehyung apologises.

“It’s okay… Thank you,” you murmur, your nose wrinkling when the raw muscles of your oesophagus strain.

Seokjin places the empty glass on the bedside table, while Taehyung haphazardly throws the dirtied towel on the ground. Then, the two of them climb into bed beside you. Warmth of their bodies flanking either side of you, you snuggle further into the sheets, your eyes begin to droop from your exhaustion. Seokjin’s hand drops to your bare abdomen, and mindlessly, his fingers begin flitting over the soft flesh. At the same time, Taehyung nestles into your side, and face burying into the side swell of your breast, he gently nips the skin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, ____,” they both murmur, Seokjin pressing a kiss to your temple, while Taehyung presses one to your breast.

Eyebrow furrowing, “It’s not Valentine’s Day. Not for another couple of days” you respond, causing them both to laugh lightly.

“It was supposed to be a spontaneous surprise,” Seokjin answers, and this time, you giggle.

“Was it as spontaneous and thrilling as you wanted it to be?” Taehyung questions, his lips twisting into a lop-sided smile against your skin.

“Mmmm. Definitely…” you sigh in response. Then, after a brief pause, “Although… I’m going to be fucking sore tomorrow,” you grumble. Once again, the two of them laugh.

“Well… you know the best remedy for that...” Taehyung begins, one of his hands teasingly wrapping around your thigh.

“Is to continue working through the soreness,” Seokjin finishes, his own hand moving to palm at your breast.

“Oh my god. You’re both insatiable,” you gripe, your hands batting their hands away from your body.

“Only for you,” Taehyung quips.

“Yeah, I’m already starving again,” Seokjin growls.

“I could go for another round of dessert,” Taehyung nods.

At their exchange, you simply shake your head. Sighing, “Later. I need a nap first.”

“Hmmm. We’ll hold you to that,” they reply, and as the twin sounds echo through the room, you sigh in exasperation. Valentine’s Day or not, you’re sure they’re going to run your body ragged before letting you out of the hotel suite.

DISCLAIMER ⏤ THIS IS A PIECE OF FICTION. DO NOT TRY SOME OF THIS AT HOME. DO NOT POUR MELTED CHOCOLATE ONTO YOUR PUSSY OR ASSHOLE!!!!

a/n: anyway : ) i hope : ) you : ) busted : ) a : ) fat : ) nut : )

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