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#made these in a call with my friends staring intensely
xhdream · 9 hours
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fuck buddies
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pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin | not threesome
genre: smut wc: 1k
cw: sub!reader, (consensual) angry sex, choking (f), name calling
a/n: @teasteeper and her work made me fall for loser!wayv so this idea came to me all bc of her <3
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you’ve always seen winwin as just the loser friend of your fuck buddy yangyang, but surprisingly he turns out to be the one who finally puts you in your place…
yangyang always hangs out with big crowds, throws the best parties and never minds you coming along; he’s extroverted, popular, radiates confidence and winwin, to you, seems to be exactly the opposite. so every time yangyang invites him you wonder why.
one night as you lay under the sheets of yangyang’s bed, you finally bring up the question, wanting to know what exactly keeps them so close. turns out they’re childhood friends and according to yangyang winwin just finds it more difficult to communicate in a bigger circle. he’s not always like that, he says.
“why do you ask?” yangyang turns on his side with lazy motions. your bodies touch once again, sweaty and still overwhelmed from the previous orgasm. he traces a line on your stomach only to sneak his slender fingers into your slickness. he’s already greedy for another round, just like you. “are you thinking of changing your fuck buddy?”
you laugh at his ridiculous comment, but decide to tease him back despite both of you knowing you’d never have a situationship with a guy like his friend.
“can’t i have two?”
yes, winwin has an attractive face and a nice figure; he’s always put together too. but that’s not enough if you ever happen to consider it. you need someone who radiates confidence, lust. someone who smells like sex, and knows how to handle you with a firm confident grip. someone like yangyang.
“you can have twenty if you want, but sweetheart…” yangyang moves his lips away from your marked neck so he can peer into your eyes, “none of them should be a friend of mine.” his fingers pull out of your slick lips and squeeze your jaw, not really satisfied with the playful smile on your face. the corners of his mouth curl up a bit, but his tone is more sharp than light. it rings like a warning. “i’m serious.”
one evening you’re left alone with winwin to prepare snacks for the party while yangyang goes to buy more alcohol before people start arriving at his place. you catch winwin staring at you with expressions you cannot quite understand what they mean; he stands too close to your shoulder as you fill up the bowls and barely keep the small talk alive. in your opinion, winwin can only hold an entertaining conversation with yangyang and no one else.
“i’m not the loser you think i am if you just give me a chance…” he speaks up, taking off his glasses.
you turn to face him, but before you have a chance to respond with anything, he speaks again, this time with bigger assurance.
“i know what you think about me.”
“okay…” you blink at him, capturing the intensity of his gaze which is usually always soft and mellow. “my opinion of you shouldn’t matter to you, we’re not friends,” you reply, and as you try to walk pass him his tall broad figure stops in front of you. “don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss me,” you giggle, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
his dark eyes skim your body up and down that’s wrapped in a tight dress before they stop on your intrigued expression. your face is pretty. sexy. winwin noticed it the first time he saw you; you were in yangyang’s lap when you reached for his hand, stating your name in the seductive voice you so often seem to talk. but it still has that amused look to it that never seems to go away when he’s in your presence. he really wants to erase it from your lips and make you see him in a new light.
“you’re wrong about me,” winwin grunts only for you to grin again.
“prove it.”
so he does. a moment later your body is sprawled over the marble surface as winwin’s cock is all the way inside you; it’s gliding in a rough rapid speed that has you seeing stars by the way it sharply pokes at your cervix. his one palm is glued to your mouth, because this time he wants to do the talking.
“fuckin’ tired of the way you look at me… think you’re too good me? just because you’re yangyang’s little whore? f-fuck.. ‘been dreaming of this for so long… shuttin’ your filthy mouth up…”
he feels your walls squeezing him tighter as his thrusts echo aggressively one after another in the kitchen. in yangyang’s kitchen. his hand leaves your drooling mouth so it can go around your neck, pulling you closer to gush at your ear.
“so hot… you’re so hot, but you’re driving me mad…”
you whine incoherently about being close; about not wanting him to slow down. the thrill from the possibility of yangyang walking in on you brings you to the edge even quicker. everything feels so… forbidden.
winwin frees your throat and presses your head against the countertop while making the last few slams into you as orgasm takes over every part of your body.
you kneel on the floor with trembling legs and winwin swears he hasn’t felt this good in a really long time; this satisfied and proud of himself. your dazed teary eyes catch sight of his flushed cock getting closer, and they remain open while the warm thick cum spills in your mouth. his heart feels close to bursting when your throat gulps it down as if his cum is something you’re already used to. although he’s still frustrated with you, he cannot help but relish this moment of you watching him innocently from below; with weakness and surprise. it’s electrifying.
both of you quickly come back to your senses after you hear yangyang opening the front door. you didn’t even get the chance to exchange any words about the events that just happened. you run to the bathroom while winwin fixes his jeans and puts his glasses back on.
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Xander and Gigi head cannons pls?
of course<3. they will literally be the best duo imaginable. i can feel it. not proof read so i apologize if anything doesn't make sense. hope you like them <3. @catapparently helped a bit with this one.
they will literally prank everyone all the damn time. they have a white board filled with prank ideas. (they once replaced jamie's alcohol with disgusting juice mixes they made. jamie ended up barfing for an entire day)
gigi is into robotics and stuff but doesn't know much about it. xander will sit with her for hours a day trying to explain everything to her.
they love playing twister for some odd reason. they're always trying to beat each other's scores.
xander is one of the only people (if not the only person) who gives her coffee voluntarily.
gigi loves lemon flavored scones and xander loves the blueberry ones, so they're always debating and fighting over who is right. (their debates get so intense. once, xander ended up in the pool naked (don't ask me how))
they comment on each other's posts saying things like "omg slay girl boss you ate that up" and stuff like that
when they gossip, they literally hold nothing back. gigi will be talking about a hookup (if she has any), and she'll be like 'and then he pulled out and he said "*****" to me whilst touching my **** and i literally almost came'. xander just sits there half traumatized and half really invested.
gigi writes fanfic on ao3 and will dedicate her fics to xander
speaking of fanfics, xander is also her beta reader sometimes
they cause arguments wherever they go. they'll be having dinner with skye, zara, and the others, and they'll purposely say smth like "omg did you hear that skye hooked up with zara's husband". everyone starts screaming, and they just sit in the back eating popcorn
they listen to cupcakke (the girl with the really dirty songs) together and scream the lyrics.
gigi once walked in on xander getting dressed (he was completely naked). she was so shocked she couldn't move, and xander just stood there staring at her. gigi managed to walk away (disgusted bc she just saw one of her closest friends naked), and xander was blushing profusely cause he was embarrassed.
they have the weirdest nicknames for each other. they call each other things like 'my little sugar plum sprinkled with pickles' or stuff like that.
xander flirts with gigi around grayson just to piss him off and gigi does the same (grayson gets weirded out cause although xander and gigi aren't related, he's related to both of them)
when they facetime, they literally bring each other everywhere. xander will literally go to the toilet with her on the phone. they have no shame.
they have an insta account together where they post the craziest shit ever (they sort of post videos like the sturniolo triplets. i don't watch them, but from what i've seen they remind me of gigi and xander)
xander and gigi make edits of gigi's cats and post them on tiktok.
they both decided to get a helix piercing. (they have matching earrings).
xander and gigi go to sex shops and laugh at the toys. they'll see lingerie or smth and gigi will go 'it's so coquette it turns me off'
gigi and xander cannot spell properly when they text. they'll be trying to say 'yoo wanna come over for a sleepover' but it comes out as 'yu wsna cime ocer for a skeepkowr' or smth like that
they were once at the park pushing each other down slides, but gigi pushed xander too hard and he fell face first into the grass.
after this event, she changed his contact name to 'grass eating cow'
gigi is a little too comfortable around xander. she asks him things like 'do you think one of my boobs is bigger than the other' or 'do you think my ass is slapable'. xander usually just stays quiet unless gigi insists he responds, and then he panics and says something random.
they go to stores to just touch all of the blankets until they find the softest ones, and then they buy them. in their opinion, you will not get a good night's sleep if you don't have a good blanket.
they get really cold easily so they're always huddled up together in a corner.
gigi is the grumpiest person you could ever imagine when she's on her period. xander runs around getting her everything she asks for when she has cramps and stuff freaking out because he doesn't want her to kill him.
gigi and xander vent to each other a lot. they're really similar and so they get each other like no one else does. they cry in each others arms regularly but always end up laughing bc some of their problems are just so stupid.
gigi helps him draw his missing eyebrow back on for events with an eyebrow pencil. she's gotten quite good at it.
at the end of the year, they organize this event where they talk about their fav fanfics and crown one as their absolute fav (they have different categories like smut, romance, au, etc)
for halloween one year, gigi dressed up as a dildo and xander as a pocket p*ssy (gigi dared him to)...
(don't mind that last one, my sister dared me to add it)
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kisses4kaia · 2 days
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please i am on my knees begging for billy…you write him so well…
yes baby whatever you want—implication oral sex (f recieving) but no real smut i fear :((, very very very slight internalized misogyny (r is just jealous), billy being a cocky dick (the best kind)
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billy was yours and that was that.
with that damn leash you kept on him, it was never questioned why billy never went home with any girls at the saloon after a game of poker, whether he won or lost. because as probable as it was the sun would come up the next day, it was just as likely it would be you he’d lay in bed next to, fucking you with just about as much passion as he would have exerted in a goddamn battlefield.
you never had to worry about him straying, because you knew you had him and nobody could ever replace what you give him in a lover, but that never meant his born reckless soul wasn’t going to push boundaries.
she had painted fingernails, corset cinched to the maximum degree of discomfort, and a flawless, straight-like-a-ruler, smile. she came from money and her name was something like margaret, or margaux—something french, probably. she was classy and beautiful and not billy’s type. you could have laughed when you saw her saunter over to billy’s barstool.
before looking at her, he paid her no mind, listening to her talk about how lonely he looked on a beautiful evening like this one, and how he doesn’t look like he belongs here. the same tired lines every girl used every time, and he probably would have shooed her away if his eyes hadn’t landed on the daggers you shot at her with your shattering gaze.
his smirk was quick to make itself known, letting his eyes run over her body as he straightened his posture. you couldn’t exactly hear what was being discussed over the conversation buzz swallowing the sound scape. you did, however, hear margaret/margaux laugh, so trained, so light and airy and feminine and infuriating. you didn’t grow up in a country house or paint your nails, the different appropriate kinds of laughters were never discerned in your taught etiquette.
nothing about you was light or airy or feminine and here billy was, flirting with those very things personified like you didn’t have him pleading with you to stop cumming less than 24 hours ago. you were probably steaming at the ears at this point.
abandoning the dull conversation surrounding the upcoming horse races with a friendly barkeep, you put one cowgirl boot in front of the other as you blaze over to billy. “come on, we’re leaving.” you say jaggedly, hardly sparing margaret/margaux a single glance.
“is this your friend?” she asks with a tone so sweet and pitchy it almost makes your eye twitch.
“yes.”
“no.”
the woman looked simply confused at your contrasting answers and quite politely excused herself as your eyes yielded a dangerous hail down onto him. he sighed, taking his time as he finished his drink—rising from his barstool, paying the barkeep, grabbing his hat and jacket—and finally walking out of the saloon with you.
as soon as the door shut to billy’s current homestead you shared, you stomped in silence to the bedroom. “where you going, baby?” he called out, not wincing, and pushing past the nearly slammed door after you. he enters to see you pacing, practically fuming.
“what’s wrong, darlin’?” he approached you and uncrossed your arms, looking down at you as if you were wounded. you hated these stares of him because it was so hearty and intense and all about you.
“you were practically sticking your dick in her! that lady, the one who obviously wanted you to take her out back,” you spit out all at once. your language was often crude, but it never made billy wince the way it made other men react. billy just smiled as though he pitied you, kissing the top of your head. you forced your arms to sides as he wrapped his around you. “you jealous?” he laughed after pulling you away from his chest and looking back down at you again.
you rolled your eyes, scoffing and tearing yourself out of his hold, walking away from him. your arms crossed in front of your chest. “i am not jealous, i am simply… perplexed.”
this seemed to amuse him. “uh huh. well, you don’t got anythin’ to worry about, baby. dontch’ya know i’m crazy about you?” his drawl drew you towards him again. his eyes were glimmering with honesty, soothing your jealousy slightly.
“you sure?” you said with a slight pout as billy pulls you in once more.
“need me to prove it to you?” the ask wasn’t posed so much as a question as a request as he sunk down slowly onto his knees in front of you. you laughed, nodding eagerly as you helped him unbutton your denim.
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alastorss · 2 months
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brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—
why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?
a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"What did you say?"
"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.
"That thing you just said. Repeat it."
You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."
"No, dear, before that."
The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.
"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"
He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.
Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?
"My apologies but... where did that come from?"
"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.
No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.
"Of course, cher."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.
It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.
He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.
"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"
He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.
"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.
You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."
He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.
Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"
Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"
"Why did you not call me Allie?"
Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.
Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.
"What?" He grumbles.
"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"
His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."
"So you like it?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Liar, you do!"
Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"
You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."
Yet the way his smile softens says it all.
~
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Parties were NOT Simon Riley's cup of tea. Not only did they drain his social battery, but he was the type of man that much preferred the comfort of a good book and his bed over that of social interaction.
But today was New Year’s Eve, and not only had Soap practically threatened him to come, you would be there. Seeing you would make attending the shitty party worth it. Seeing you always made anything worth it.
Simon walked into the mess hall, his heart racing slightly as he realized just how many people were here. All of the soldiers still on duty were gathered, eating, drinking, joking. Just the sheer amount of chaos that was ensuing made Simon want to run back to his room.
Until he saw you.
He found you watching TV, nursing on some concoction of drink, a languid smile on your lips as you saw him approach.
“Sergeant.” Simon nodded in your direction as he came to stand by you, thankful you couldn’t see the crimson forming in his cheeks.
“Lieutenant.” You smiled up at him, before letting your eyes fall back to the TV in front of you. "Surprised to see you here tonight."
Simon grunted in reply, his eyes scanning the crowded mess hall, finding his Scottish friend laughing with a group of recruits. "Johnny forced me. Plus, the company isn't so bad."
You turned your face slightly, a blush reaching your cheeks at his admission. "Glad to know my company is suitable for you."
You both stood watching the party for a while as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. This was one of the things Simon adored about you. You never forced him to talk, which frankly, made him all the more eager to do so with you.
“Y/N-.” He began, but Johnny had cut him off with a tap of his glass.
"Alright everyone, begin the count down! It’s ten seconds to midnight!” Johnny called out, grabbing everyone's attention, prompting nearly everyone in the mess hall began to shout out the countdown.
"Ten!"
You couldn't help but look over at your lieutenant, your breath hitching slightly as you saw he was already looking at you, his soft brown eyes softening as they locked on you.
All of the noise in the background, the cheers, the conversations, the sound of the TV, all vanished in that moment. The only thing mattering to you was the way that Simon Riley was looking at you.
"Nine!"
Your many years alongside him began to swirl in your head, all the long missions, the close calls, all those times he risked his life for you, and you for him. All those times he'd let you in to see the man behind the mask, the man that was Simon Riley.
Your feelings for him had only grown in all the time you'd been alongside him, and you found yourself utterly and completely in love with your superior.
"Eight!"
Simon took a step closer to you, his eyes remaining as stoic as ever as they stayed locked on yours. You always hated how you could never tell what he was thinking, could never read what he was feeling by his looking in his eyes.
God, what you would give to be able to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his right now.
If only you fucking knew.
"Seven!"
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as his he now stood almost chest to chest with you, his frame towering over yours as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. "Hi."
"Hi." He replied, his tone quieter than usual. His hands began to shake slightly as he slowly began to move one of them toward the base of his balaclava.
"Six!"
You watched as he pulled his mask up, revealing a handsome jaw, lined with stubble. His lips were littered with scars, and you couldn't help but stare at them. From what little you could see of his face, you realized just how fucking pretty he was. As if there was any doubt.
"S-Simon." You breathed out, the intensity of his gaze sending a heat coursing throughout the entirety of your body. You couldn’t help yourself, you let your hand grip lightly at his arm, prompting him to chuckle softly.
"Five!"
Simon leaned toward you, his finger lightly touching your chin as he tilted your face up towards his. You found yourself leaning up toward him, your heels leaving the ground slightly.
His touch was so gentle against your chin despite the rough texture of his fingers, and it took everything in you not to moan at the tenderness of his touch.
"Four!"
“You want this?” He asked, his voice holding a nervousness you’d never been on the receiving end of before. “With me?”
All you could do was nod up at him, not trusting yourself to speak. You don't think you'd ever been this nervous in your life, your mouth running dry in anticipation.
"Three!"
This was it, wasn’t it? After all these years, after all those long nights, those deep talks, those longing glances… was this really about to happen?
"Two!"
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you felt his breath on your mouth, his lips being just a hair away from your own. You could hear him inhale sharply, and watched as his eyes darted toward your mouth.
"One!"
It was as if time stopped when his lips finally met yours. They slotted against yours so effortlessly, almost as if they were made to be kissed by you.
After years of loving Simon Riley, he was finally, finally kissing you. And it was everything you could ever have hoped it would be.
He pulled away a moment later, the smile on his lips now reaching his beautiful brown eyes. “Happy New Year, sergeant.”
A Happy New Year indeed.
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thevillainswhore · 25 days
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A Forbidden Invitation
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Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.
Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 
It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.
You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 
“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”
Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 
Oh no. The puppy eyes.
“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 
The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 
“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 
The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“
“Becca!” 
“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 
“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 
“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 
She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”
The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 
The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 
Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.
Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”
You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 
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Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 
However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 
The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 
So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 
In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 
You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 
The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 
Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 
Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 
Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 
If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 
Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 
Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 
You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 
The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 
With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 
“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 
Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 
But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 
The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 
Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 
The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 
“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  
The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 
His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 
Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 
“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 
You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 
The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.
“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 
You did do anything he asked. 
You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 
Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 
Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 
You were aching for him. 
With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 
Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”
“Babe!” 
Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 
You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 
Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 
The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 
Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 
Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 
Who the fuck was this girl? 
Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 
You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.
The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 
Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 
Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 
With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 
“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.
But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 
Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 
Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 
You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 
Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 
However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 
I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 
I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 
Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 
J.B.B.
“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 
You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 
Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 
You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 
She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 
“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 
Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 
“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 
The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 
“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 
Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 
Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.
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The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  
But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 
That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 
Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 
Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 
Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 
But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 
As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.
You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 
You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 
Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 
You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  
As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 
You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 
Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 
But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 
Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.
You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 
The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 
Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”
Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.
He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 
Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 
Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”
“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 
It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 
Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 
Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 
Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  
You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 
“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 
“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 
When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 
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You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 
An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 
You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 
Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 
The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 
Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 
Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.
“I see you’re working hard.” 
Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  
The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 
It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 
He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 
“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 
“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 
Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“
“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 
“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 
Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 
A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.
His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 
You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 
“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 
The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 
“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 
“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 
“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 
“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 
“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 
Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 
Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.
Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 
His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”
“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 
Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 
Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  
You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 
It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 
For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.
Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”
Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 
You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 
“Dad! Where are you?” 
Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 
It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 
Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 
You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 
“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 
This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 
But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 
Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 
You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 
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After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.
Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 
“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 
“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 
Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 
You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 
“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”
But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 
The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 
Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.
“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 
You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.
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It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 
However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 
The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 
The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 
Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  
Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 
You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.
But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 
Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.
“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 
Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 
Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 
“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 
You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 
A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 
“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 
“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 
You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 
“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 
Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 
“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.
Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 
The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 
“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 
You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.
A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 
“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 
Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 
Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”
Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”
His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 
“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 
Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 
You so desperately wanted to feel special. 
Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 
The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 
You were so fucking tired. 
The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 
Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 
The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 
Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?
Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 
Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 
With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 
He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 
The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 
He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 
Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 
His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 
Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 
“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 
You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 
Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 
Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 
The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 
“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 
The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 
“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 
You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 
You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 
Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 
He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 
Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 
“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 
Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 
“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”
Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 
Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 
While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 
Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 
The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 
“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”
You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 
“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 
The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 
“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 
It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 
Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 
You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 
Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 
His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 
The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 
Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 
You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 
But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 
You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 
Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 
“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 
“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 
Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 
“Yes! Please!” you cried. 
Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 
You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 
Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 
His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 
“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 
Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 
“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”
Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 
His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 
With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  
“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 
“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 
“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 
“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 
Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 
His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 
“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 
“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  
You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”
But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 
You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 
“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 
Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 
“Yes, what?” 
You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 
Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 
You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 
His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 
“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 
Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 
“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 
“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 
You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 
“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 
You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 
You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 
“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 
“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 
“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 
“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.
Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 
Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 
You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 
An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 
But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 
You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 
“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 
“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 
It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 
Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 
“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 
Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 
A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 
“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 
Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 
Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 
A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 
You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 
But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 
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1K notes · View notes
torustars · 1 year
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YOU SAY YOU WANT A BOYFRIEND
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⊹ gojo satoru, suguru geto, toji fushiguro x reader
⊹ suggestive / teasing + a hint of fluff
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୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ gojo opened his eyes with his cheek squished against his pillow. he stared at your figure across from him; a grin appeared on his face as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. “satoru,” you called out for him. “yes, sweetheart? what’s up?” he hummed instantly, a sign to show he was listening to you. you kept your attention on your phone, “i want a boyfriend,” you confessed and looked at him, an amused expression plastered on his face. “oh yeah? don’t you think one is enough?” he asked and you shook your head in response. “hm... i want a tall one, a pretty one too,” you stated. he chuckled and brought his hand to rest against your waist, slowly slipping it under your shirt. “and don’t i meet those criteria, sweetheart?” his hand slowly inched higher against your skin and you shivered at the touch of his fingers drawing little shapes. you shook your head, beginning to cower under gojo’s lazy stare. “words, baby. c’mon, tell me how i’m not your dream guy,” he egged on before softly gripping your waist and pulling you towards him. both of you were chest to chest; your ability to speak was long gone before gojo began to lay butterfly kisses on your jawline. you gasped at the feeling and gojo smirked against your skin, leading his kisses down to your neck to your collarbone. “let’s see how long it’ll take for you to break and admit i’m the one you want, shall we?”
୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ geto swirled the water in his cup, leaning against the counter. his eyes trailed towards you and he caught you staring at him intensively. “something on my face?” he asked, giving you a soft grin before you looked away in embarrassment. “no, but i do wanna tell you something,” you replied and he took a swig of his water before setting the cup down. “hit me with it, what’s on your mind darling?” he leaned his body weight onto the counter and rested his chin on his palm and waited for you to speak. you looked back at him and pursed your lips before talking. “i want a boyfriend,” you said. he raised his eyebrow and a chuckle omitted from his lips. “you already have one, how greedy are you, huh?” he teased and made his way towards you. he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you towards him. “you don’t get it, i want a tall boyfriend” you explained. he chuckled again, squeezing your waist. “how about i be a good little boyfriend and help you indulge in those fantasies, hm?” he mumbled into your ear, pressing you against the cool wall. you let out a soft gasp as his knee parted your legs and rested just between your thighs. your hands pressed against geto’s chest while he kissed your lips, tugging your bottom lip as he pulled away. “sweet little thing, i’ll fulfill your dreams of a tall boyfriend, so i’m the only one you think of.”
୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ toji was sat on the bed, legs spread apart while he leaned back on his hands. he watched you in the mirror, smirking while you got ready. you looked at him in the mirror before turning to face him. “how do i look?” you asked and he quickly checked you out from head to toe. “absolutely stunning,” he admitted, “what’s the occasion?” you stood between his legs and cupped his cheek, giving him a kiss. you pulled away and grinned, looking down at him. “getting some drinks with some friends, and maybe finding a boyfriend,” he nodded before raising an eyebrow. “a what?” he asked, wanting you to repeat what you just said. “a boyfriend, toji. i’ve wanted one for a while.” you stared at him with such innocent eyes and your tongue swiped across your lips. he poked the inside of his cheek; one of his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. “toji, i have to go,” you softly said and he gave your thigh a squeeze as a warning. “don’t play with me now darling.” you looked away to hide the smile on your face, “i’m not toji, i’m being serious.” he grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “look at me when i speak to you. i don’t think you need one when i’m right here, yeah?” he put his hand back on your thigh, squeezing it again. “guess i need to show you who you belong to, can’t have that little idea running in your pretty mind, can i?”
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© torustars (2023). do not repost, copy or translate any of my works or layouts. reblogs are appreciated! 
11K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 21 days
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Sukuna’s Fuck Buddy ꨄ
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[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You agree to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, not exactly expecting to get ruined in different ways every week.
[ { Need to know } ] ➤ This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, tw; spitting, degrading, manhandling, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex, language, brief/slight exhibitionism, & Sukuna has a filthy mouth.
[ { Paring } ] ➤ Sukuna x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 4.2k
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"A whore," Sukuna commented, clearly joking but his words had made you uneasy.
It was oddly specific. You hadn't thought much of it when he called you a whore the night prior, since, y'know, you liked being degraded. But, something about that being his assumption for your occupation was a crazy coincidence.
Especially considering how hellbent Gojo always is on telling you not to call yourself that. The more you thought about it...
Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-
Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-
A finger had poked your forehead and you blinked out of your thoughts.
Sukuna was chuckling, "I was joking, woman. Calm down." He uttered, "I actually thought you worked at one of those beauty stores."
You raised a brow, still feeling uneasy with the man. "Beauty stores?"
"Sephora, Ulta," He shrugged, "Wherever the fuck. I pictured you being one of those cute little cashiers."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment...?" You murmured.
"Or working at McDonald's, I don't know, I didn't think too hard on it-- jus' wanted to fuck you," Sukuna admitted honestly.
Your expression drops, "Oh..."
His hand had gone to your chin and he tipped your face up, "Do you want me to want something more from you?"
His gaze was intense like always, causing chills to slip down your back. You shook your head, "I mean, no... I only wanted you to fuck me."
"We could keep doing this," Sukuna suggested with a shrug, "Make' it a weekly thing."
You batted your eyelashes at him a few times in thought. At the time, things definitely would've gone differently had you not answered his request but... Somewhere deep down inside, you wanted to make it a weekly thing.
"Really?" You had asked the man, taking him by slight surprise.
Sukuna had wholeheartedly expected you to disregard his suggestion to you but, you didn't. "Yes, really," He replied before stepping closer to his bedside where you were seated and leaning toward you, "Let's fuck every week."
You stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, contemplating numerous things in your head. Technically, you should've said no. You should've moved on from the topic, y'know, brushed his offer off entirely.
Yet there you were, steadily nodding your head in agreement before uttering a simple, "Okay."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Which takes you to right now, a few weeks after said agreement where you find yourself in the backseat of one of Sukuna's cars, your legs sprawled out over his as you sit prettily in his lap.
Since agreeing to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, you and him have met up once a week, sometimes twice, just to fuck each other.
In Sukuna's right hand was his cell phone, the device up at his ear as he conversed with someone as if his free hand wasn't occupied with toying with your dripping cunt-- thick fingers fucking so deep into you and curling just right against your slick walls.
Your back was against his firm chest, lips parted with heavy pants and soft moans spilling from your throat as the lewd sound of Sukuna finger fucking you filled his vehicle.
Trying so hard not to be loud in courtesy of whoever he was on the phone with, you bit your lower lip, “Mmmh… Sukuna…” You mewl out gently.
He’s been at it for a while and you could even feel how hard his cock was against your ass, his tip leaking and member twitching beneath the fabric of his sweats every time you squirmed.
Sukuna sighs heavily and pulls the phone away from his mouth only to bring his lips to your ear, “Shut the fuck up. If she hears you, I’ll stop…” Pausing mid-sentence as your cunt squeezes tighter around his fingers, he smirks, “Slut.”
“P-Please… hah… don’t stop,” Your voice was filled with pure and utter need, just as he liked.
Sukuna angles his head down a bit, planting a soft and all too teasing kiss below your ear, his breath tickling your neck, “Then shut up.”
You’re nodding, closing your mouth, and swallowing down your own moans as he purposefully shoves his fingers into you at a rougher pace.
In and out and in and out, your pussy was gushing around his fingers— mouth opening and jaw dropping every now and then as he hit all the right spots.
“Fuck,” You curse under your breath as your torso leans forward and you shoot a hand down to grab his wrist.
Sukuna’s speaking to whoever he has on the phone but you only register a few words every now and then. “Mhmmmm,” He hummed and you swore that was directed toward you as your eyes flickered back— he knew you were close.
Sukuna’s fingers slid almost all the way out of your hole just to tease you, his fingertips slipping up to flick over your clit. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he rubs your clit aggressively, drawing circles over the bud and making your legs draw together.
“M’gonna cum,” You whine out quietly, struggling to keep your noises in.
He wanted to make things harder for you so he smirks, “Yeah?” Sukuna taunted, “Gonna’ make a mess? Hm?”
Your head just barely angled back to look at him, seeing that he didn’t bother to move the phone away or mute it so whoever he was talking to heard everything he just said. This overwhelming feeling of embarrassment and arousal shoots throughout your body and your face twists up in pleasure as Sukuna sinks his fingers back into you.
“No, not you,” He spat to whoever he was talking to on call, smirking at you afterward, “I told you I was busy when we first got on the phone…”
Your hips jerked forward a bit as you unintentionally moved to ride his fingers, panting and maintaining eye contact with the man. He nearly felt like he was getting high off of merely watching you grow so stupidly drunk in lust. 
“S’kuna…” You mumbled.
His cock ached in his sweats and he nodded, “Mhm, yeah, y’know what, I’ll call you back— I have a needy whore to take care of.”
You turned your head to face forward as he said that, once again feeling embarrassed and even squeezing your legs together a bit. The sound of Sukuna scoffing is heard and then his phone is, quite literally, tossed somewhere else.
He shifts and his now free hand goes to your hip as his other kneads into your pussy, making you dizzy in satisfaction as you continue trying to keep quiet.
“Look at you…” Sukuna taunts, “You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
You nod stupidly, feeling the knot in your core build as your orgasm approaches, “Y-Yeah… fuck, please.”
“Hm? Please what?” He scoffs, as if he hadn’t had a tendency to strip you of your climax multiple times.
“Hah… Let me cum, p-please Sukuna,” Your voice was a needy but quiet whine and he bit his lower lip once he acknowledged you were still following his orders of being quiet.
Sukuna snickers, “Uhuh, I will,” He hums, “Jus’ keep squeezin’ around my fingers,” He leans forward so he could speak into your ear, low and rasped voice driving you over the edge, “Yeahhhh, like that— Fuckin’ whore.”
Your jaw drops and your mouth forms an immediate O shape as your eyes flicker, back arching, and whimper escaping your throat— you cum hard while still trying to be quiet, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you do so.
There’s a slick sound of Sukuna still toying with your cunt as you come undone and then he sits back, parting his legs a bit as you readjust into his lap and his fingers slip out of you.
Sukuna coos, “See? Was that so hard? Now here,” He moves one hand to your throat, forcing your back to be against his chest as his other hand goes to your lips, “Clean yourself off my fingers, messy girl.”
His digits that’d just been inside you prod at your lips, tapping your lower one before you part them and Sukuna pushes his fingers in. He was such a nasty man, forcing you to taste yourself and clean your slick off his fingers— you couldn’t stand him sometimes.
Not to mention how he teases you as he does so, “Taste good, right?” Sukuna asked.
You whirl your tongue around his fingers and then pull off them with a hard and firm suck, a slight pop emitting from the action, “Mhm…”
“Good,” Both of Sukuna’s hands go to your hips and he lifts you up. You hardly realize what he’s doing until he forces you to turn around and face him. Then, he makes sure you remain hovering over his crotch as he works his cock out of his sweats, his eyes on yours as if he were seconds away from devouring you.
Sukuna looked ravished for you, tired of the past minutes he spent on some tedious phone call when he could’ve been buried inches into your sloppy hole. His eyes were low-lidded, maroon shade dazed with this feral need for you.
Oh, he was about to fuck the shit out of you— as he typically does. You’d picked up on that much, how his eyes would change, his breathing grown heavier, voice low and pitched with this sexy rasp that made your cunt flutter.
“Do me a favor,” Sukuna suddenly voices out, making you blink out of your daze. Your hands were on his broad shoulders, keeping yourself hovered over him. “Sit on this dick ‘nd make another mess f’me,” He instructed, words causing you to look down at his hard, slightly curved cock that’s been freed from his clothes.
It’s so damn intimidating— the way his veins bulge, how his hand jerks at his shaft in quick pulls, tip sticky and leaking precum as you stare with pretty wide eyes.
Your legs were straddling his already so, after a moment of admiring his cock, your eyes flicked back up to his face. Sukuna was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to plop down onto his twitching member.
His gaze sent a chill down your spine and your body was finally moving again. You lower yourself steadily as you glance down again but because of how slow you were living and how needy Sukuna was, he goes to grab your hips and pulls your cunt down to his cock, tip pressing up against your hole.
Both of you let out a heavy exhale in sync and you rock your hips forward just a little bit to ride his flushed tip.
“Don’t fuckin’ tease me, woman,” Sukuna breathes out, voice more airy than he would’ve liked.
You smirk, “Sukuna…” Your gaze lifts to his face once more, “You’re drippin’.” You whisper tauntingly.
His brows tense and his cock suddenly pushes up a few inches into you, a shallow thrust made in reaction to your words. Sukuna’s dirty talk was rubbing off on you and it drove him crazy. The hands on your waist grip even tighter, sure to leave marks as his fingernails dig into you and he slams you down on his dick.
Your eyes widen, face twists up, and a sluty moan leaves your throat, “Oh fuck-,”
“Told’ you not to fuckin’ tease me,” Sukuna huffs out in an aggravated tone. His big rough hands slide up to your waist and he holds onto you tightly before forcing you to ride him at the pace he wanted.
You’re moving to keep up with his motions as best you can, using your legs to lift yourself up and then plop your cunt down on his cock over and over— sucking him in deep and tight each time you go down.
Meanwhile, Sukuna’s forcing you through it, making sure you don’t slow down for even a second. “Needy ass couldn’t even let me finish my phone call,” He grunts out, “Pussy just needed my cock, huh? She’s that greedy?”
Your cunt just flutters and gushes around his dick, walls closing around his shaft as a moan slips past your lips, “I… ah, oh-, fuuck… m’sorry.”
“Aw, you’re sorry?” Sukuna mocks, “No you’re nottt, you wanted me off the phone, didn’t you?”
You shake your head, “N-No…”
“No? Hah,” That smirk of his starts to appear and his hands slide down your body, caressing your skin as you ride him in earnest, “You wanted them to hear?”
Your hips stutter in movement and your eyes widen, “I-“
“Wanted them to hear how desperate you are for some cock?” Sukuna huffs out, hips suddenly snapping up into you, “How dumb you get once it’s in you? Hm?”
“F-Fuck, Sukuna-, ah, mghh.” You whine, hips coming to an almost complete stop as Sukuna fucks his cock up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his tip rams up into your cervix.
To make matters worse, he slaps your ass, “Did I say you could stop? Keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.” Sukuna orders meanly, making you whine as you find your movement again, earning a smirk from him in response to how your hips match his thrusts.
There was this slight shake to his car as you bounced up and down on his cock and he kept fucking it up into you, making it hard for you to think or even moan properly.
 He smirks and then holds your hips again, slamming you down slowly but roughly along with his words, “Mmmgh, just. like. that.” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back and breathing heavily.
The sight of him with his head back and neck exposed was so damn sexy, causing you to lean forward and move to his neck, pressing sweet but messy kisses all up and down his exposed skin.
Sukuna starts smiling, “Good girl.” He suddenly praises and your hips begin to rock back and forth, making his brows tense, “Aughhh, fuuuck, keep goin’, m’close.”
Because you had slowed again, you’d assume that he enjoyed it so you continued with a steady rock of your hips, keeping his thick length buried inside you as you did so.
He lets you continue like that for a minute or two but after that, he huffs, “I said ride me, whore. Don’t fuckin’ slow down.” Sukuna grunted.
For someone who was taunting you about being needy, he sure as hell had a thousand demands on how you should be riding him— as if he doesn’t know his dick is hard to take at some point.
Your brows furrow and your lower lip sticks out into a slight pout, one he finds so fucking cute. Sukuna moves his hands to your thighs, somewhat under them to aid you, and then he’s forcing your pussy to slick up and down him again.
You let out a little scoff before looking off to the side, “Shit…” Sukuna was thrusting up into you again, bullying his cock into your dripping cunt and forcing you to ride him through it.
“C’mon,” He smirks, “Take it—, fuck me.” He suddenly breathes out.
A shocked moan exits your mouth and your eyes are glossy as they find his, “W-What? Mmh…” You breathe. Did he just say what you thought he did?
“You heard me,” Sukuna’s smirk widens and slowly eases into a sexy almost fucked out smile “I said fuck me. Fuck me like you wanna make me cum,” He huffs, your body responding through upping your pace, “Yeahhhh that’s it.” Sukuna breathes, head flying back again.
The car creaked and bounced with the frantic movements of sex occurring inside, windows fogged, your tits jumping almost in his face, plush walls clamping down on his dick so good that he felt like he was losing his sanity.
Oh Sukuna was addicted. He can’t have any other woman on his cock that’s not you, not when you ride him so well and certainly not when your hand is abruptly felt on his throat.
Sukuna lets out a groan that’s treacherously close to a moan, his head tipping up from the seat as his eyes find yours, “Oh? You kinky fuckin’ woman, chokin’ me like this…” He grunts, smiling again afterward, “Can hardly feel those small fingers of yours…”
Truth is, he could feel your fingers. Blood rushed to Sukuna’s face and his cock, his mind dazed for a second as you choked him whilst riding him. He would never submit to you but goddamn you were making it difficult.
Your hole just sucked him up like a vice and your walls were so snug and warm, wetness coating his dick and even parts of his thighs. He was about to cum but he didn’t want you to think you’d got the best of him.
So, Sukuna tips his head to the side and brings a hand to your wrist, “This is cute but,” He pulls your hand off his neck, “Lemme show you how it’s done, pretty girl.”
Your lashes bat in disbelief before Sukuna’s manhandling you again, flipping you both over as his large muscular frame looms over yours. His big hands go to your legs and he spreads them fast and wide enough so that he can slam his cock back inside you.
Your back is arching off the seat of the car as soon as he pushes all the way into you, the sudden change in position making his leaky tip reach deeper than before.
One hand is propped up by your head and the other goes to your throat, Sukuna’s fingers carefully wrapping around you and feeling the way broken moans vibrate against your throat.
“Mmph… ah, ‘kuna,” You slur out as his thrusts pick up all over again. Something is mumbled under your breath and he finds it funny how you could barely get it out.
Tilting his head, “Huh? What was that? Speak up.”
You groan, “Harder,” His eyes widen and his hips just ram down into you at a merciless pace before you get out what you meant, “Choke m-me… mmh, f-fuck… h-harder, oh my… ahh, ngh…”
“Harder? You want me to choke you harder?” Sukuna repeats and you nod, earning a slight laugh from him, “Of course you do, slut.” As the last word leaves his lips, his hand is squeezing around your throat, making it hard for you to breathe while he recklessly pounds into your cunt.
“M-Mmmh,” You hum, eyes rolling back as that damn curve of his knocks into you just right, “F-Fuck. Ohmygod, f-fuuck…” You curse between a whine.
His face is hovering over yours, “Feel me in there?” You nod and he bites his lip for a moment, “Yeah?”
Sukuna just thrusts harsher and harsher, and then faster, pelvis crashing into yours over and over as the lewd sounds of sex escape his car with how sloppy it was getting. His cock was covered in you but only greedy for more, plunging in and out of you as he groans at the way you just suck him back in every time he pulls out.
“Want me to slow down?” Sukuna suddenly suggests. Again, you just nod, almost too fucked out to speak anymore. “Awww, but you’re takin’ me jus’ fine at this pace,” He praises, making your cunt throb about him.
“S’too… y-you’re so… hahh… mgh, f-fucking big-,” You moan out weakly.
Those words make his thrusts stutter and he grunts, “What? I’m what?” Sukuna questions, almost like he needed to hear you say that again. His face leans down to yours and his lips ghost your wet ones, “What am I? Say that again.” He whispers.
Your heavy breaths brush up against his lips as both of you hold such intimate eye contact with one another, “B-Big, S’kuna… S-So fuckin’ big…” You cry out, gentle tears beginning to leave your eyes.
The man unintentionally beats his cock down into your messy cunt, “Big? Ohhhh, don’t fuckin’ tell me that.” Sukuna groans, again sounding all too close to a moan, “Take it.” He huffs.
You nod yet again, “Uhuh… m-mmh, oh…”
“Yeahhh, take it you whore.” Sukuna huffed, “Every fuckin’ inch like a good girl, mhm-, fuck,” He finally moaned, eyes flickering for only a moment.
He was too into it, too into you— literally. Sukuna felt like he was in your stomach, the bulge of his cock so prominent with his every thrust. Never was he really gentle with you, not during the sex at least, there was no need to be. You liked him rough and he knew that.
“M’gonna cum inside you.” Sukuna suddenly warns, hips sloppy against you, “Fuck my cum nice ‘nd deep inside you,” He huffs, feeling how you twitch around him.
Then, Sukuna stares down at your face, his hand still around your neck as he gets a sudden thought, glancing down to your lips.
“Open your mouth,” Sukuna orders, his voice deep. Your lips are parting without a second thought and Sukuna looks you dead in the eyes as he spits onto your tongue. First, it’s one messy drip, then another filthy glob.
Oh that was nasty, he was nasty. And the fact that his action only turned you on even more really said something about you.
“Swallow it,” He demands right after, watching as you shut your mouth and do as told. Then, he feels the movement in your throat against his palm and he chuckles, “Fuck, that’s sexy… You’re such a nasty lil�� slut f’me, I like that.”
Sukuna leans down to you and the grip on your throat grows tighter, his lips moving to swallow yours up. It was a messy and heated kiss, your moans and whimpers being drowned out as his tongue slithered into your mouth.
The wet slick and slide of his mouth over yours filled the air and all you could hear was that and the brutal smack of his hips down into you as his cock unforgivingly kissed your cervix. Over and over and over again until your orgasm crashes over you.
Only then does Sukuna pull away from your lips, a messy wad of saliva hanging between the two of you as he speaks slowly and his voice makes you lose it because of that damn breathy rasp, “Pussy’s creaming ‘round me, shit.” He breathes out, slowing down his thrusts just so you can pay attention to it, “Hear that? Hear how she gushes ‘round my cock?”
It was messy, sloppy, and slick as he dragged his dick in and out of your pulsing walls. This is what it was like to be Sukuna’s fuck buddy. Whenever or wherever he wanted to take you, he would— spewing such filth out to you as he did so, no matter who heard him.
He didn’t care, he just wanted to make sure you heard him, heard his every nasty word because he knew you liked it. Hell, that’s why you’re cumming around his cock now, moaning beneath him, legs shaking, and tears streaming down your face.
Just as you’re coming undone, so is he, pace picking right back up as he fucks his orgasm into you— warm seed coating your walls as he leaned to your ear, groaning out a repeated and breathy ‘take it’ as you whined and suddenly clawed at his back.
“Take every drop,” Sukuna moans into your ear. You think he might have a breeding kink-, “Fuckin’ slut,” He adds on.
He’s going and going until he thrusts in hard one last time and stills himself. His breathing was so heavy in your ear, heavy like pants almost-, almost like you’d drained him of everything he had.
Sukuna remains still for a while before he shifts only a little, lips moving to your cheek as he kisses your wet skin. Then, it’s slow but his tongue slides out and he licks whatever's left of your tears off your face.
Your face twists up in slight discomfort due to his wet tongue and the fact that his heavy cock was still inside you wasn’t making things any better, “…Sukuna,” You sigh, “D-Don’t you have a phone call t-to return…?”
He smiles at how you remind him, despite your fucked out state and how ragged your voice was. Sukuna slowly moves to lean up but, he doesn’t pull out yet, “Mhm, I do. And uh,” He sits back a bit and pulls your body along with his, making sure he never once slips out of you, “You’re gonna keep my cock nice ‘nd warm in the meantime.”
His words catch you off gaurd, “But-“
His hand goes to your lower abdomen and Sukuna traces his fingertip over the slight print his dick makes against your skin, “You don’t want to?” He asks, tipping his head to the side.
Blinking, you just let out a sigh after a long moment of thought, “No, I do…”
“Alright then,” Sukuna smiles, “But if you make any noise, I’ll video call instead and show them the needy woman I gotta deal with,” He comments finally with a cocky little wink.
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milkteabinniechan · 1 month
Text
bath water | hwang hyunjin
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pairing: virgin! Hyunjin x afab reader // ☕ | m.list
summary: your friend Hyunjin wants to paint on a new canvas: you. And while you are supportive, you didn't think it would feel so good...
warnings: body worship, fingering (f. receiving) smut
part two here
“Well, I actually want to paint on you.” his voice lingered over the receiver. The pause weighed heavy between the two of you.
“You want me paint me?” you held your phone away from your ear, almost about to drop it. Hyunjin was an amazing artist. His pieces could be in museums, in art galleries. Why would he want to paint-
“Huh?” you chimed in finally. 
Hyunjin went on to explain some videos he had seen recently demonstrating what they called a human canvas. Artists would paint on the person’s back, or legs, or arms, or… Hyunjin’s voice became softer until the heavy pause appeared again. 
You agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to meet at his apartment the following weekend. He told you to wear comfortable clothes. As you paced your way up to his front door, all you could think about was his concentrated face as he paints, now that face would be on you.
Hyunjin answered the door in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was messy and he looked exhausted.
“Hey, come on in,” he stepped back and made room for you to walk past him, “I was just getting set up. I put some plastic sheets on the floor and picked out all the colors I would need.”
You turned toward his living room to see a corner of the room with a few small plastic squares laid carefully on the hardwood floors. Pastel colors each in their individual cups and palettes. Paint brushes in various sizes splayed out around the floor as well. He really was full prepared. You chuckled to yourself, you weren’t surprised. When it came to his art, Hyunjin put everything he had into it. 
“Alright, so…” hyunjin entered the room after you, “are you ready to get started?” His face was already turning red, as was yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. You cleared your throat and nodded your head.
“Yeah. Let’s do this!” you shouted, fist in the air. Your sudden enthusiasm startling Hyunjin. He burst out laughing and playfully pushed your shoulder.
“You goof.” He smiled.
You smiled back. You had always found a way to make him laugh, and he had always found a way to put you at ease. Then you tugged at your shirt, remembering the whole reason you came over here. Your smile started to fade.
“Did you want to paint my arms? Or my back? Or my-”
“Your back.” Hyunjin cut you off. “I figured it would give me the most space to erm, work with.”
“Sounds good.” your enthusiastic voice now draining by the second. 
You tugged at the hem of your shirt and began to pull it up over your head. Hyunjin quickly turned his back to you, awkwardly staring at the wall in front of him. He instructed you to turn away from him once you were ready and he would get started.
“Ready.” you signaled softly, your bare back now facing him. You held your breasts with both hands, a chill rising up over your entire body. Hyunjin worked in silence as you heard the sound of paint brushes dipping in water, then in what you assume was the paint. 
The first stroke of his paintbrush was cold, very cold. You jumped at the feeling. The soft bristles trailing down your skin, leaving a damp, cool sensation behind. 
“Is it okay?” Hyunjin spoke gently. 
You weakly murmured a yes. Your eyes closed, focused intensely on the swirling motions and shapes that he was creating on your skin. You could picture his face, tightly squeezing and scrunching. Suddenly, he stopped painting.
“All done.” He spoke finally. Your eyes fluttered open. Had you fallen asleep? It all happened so fast. 
“Already?” you tried to turn your head around, attempting to catch a glimpse of his work.
“I was point for two hours, goof. You must have zoned out.” Hyunjin stood up and stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders.
Two hours? You thought. Painting felt amazing. You were almost sad it was over. You didn’t want it to be over. You wanted more. The feeling of the paint brush across your skin. Wet paint dripping down your body. Wait. You thought, This was turning you on. You selfishly had an idea, but you had no notion if Hyunjin would even agree to it. You didn’t even know if he had seen a woman naked before. You didn’t want to overstep, but unholy thoughts were consuming you.
“Y-you know,” you started, “you could paint my front too, Hyunjin.” You turned your body toward him, his body still towering over yours. Your hands were still cupped over your breasts, but it’s where Hyunjin’s eyes were glued.
For a moment, he didn’t speak, neither of you did. You both just stared at each other, unsure what to say next. Eventually, you spoke again.
“Only if you have more to paint, of course. More ideas.” You waited again for a response. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide. His mouth tightened to a thin line across his face. You could feel your face growing hot again. Regretting every moment of the last five minutes.
“I-I don’t think that would be such a g-good idea.” Hyunjin said under his breath, avoiding eyes contact now. He rubbed the back of his nack and stared at the floor next to you.
You felt your heart fall into your stomach. Your throat dried up to dust and the air was pressed instantly from your lungs. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you broke eye contact with Hyunjin. You turned your face away quickly so he wouldn’t see how red it was. 
“I’m going to go wash up, then.” was all you could think to say. 
You stood fast and made your way to his bathroom. After you took a few minutes to catch your breath in front of the mirror,  you turned on the bathtub. The hot water filling the tub, inviting you in to wash away this incredibly uncomfortable experience. You slide off your pants and underwear, setting them in a pile with your shirt to dress when you were done. You let yourself slide into the clear water. Just your head poking and bobbing out.
Suddenly, dread filled your entire body. You couldn’t wash all this paint off yourself, it was on your back. There was no loofa or sponge to wash with. And now you just made an idiot of yourself in front of your friend. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes again.
“Can I help?” Hyunjin spoke from the other side of the door. 
“No, no. I’ve got it!” you lied.
“Please, let me help you.” Hyunjin’s sincerity was palpable, even through the closed door. 
You begrudgingly allowed him inside, adding the small caveat that you were completely nude in his bathtub. Suprisingly, he came in anyway. He walked in with eyes closed. Blindly feeling around to get his barrings again. At last, he stood in front of the tub, eyes still shut tight.
“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin whispered. “I just-I’ve never…” his pleading eyes finally meeting yours. You searched his face to try to decipher what he was trying to say. You tried your best to use your hands to cover yourself, to allude to some sort of modesty. But you were hesitant if it was working at all. 
“I’m a virgi-” Hyunjin had lost his train of thought. He had lost everything that was ever on his mind when he saw you laying in the bathtub. The paint from his human canvas has started to dissolve and disperse into the clear water around you. The colors swirling and dancing together to form new color combinations. Reds and purples, and blues and yellows were seeking and chasing new paths around the curves of your naked body. You were magnificent. 
You watched Hyunjin’s eyes trace your exposed body from top to bottom, like he was memorizing every detail. On instinct, you slowly moved your hands away from your breasts and your soft slit. The sight of your hard nipples poking in and out of the swiriling, colorful water made Hyunjin fall to his knees in front of the bathtub. His eyes never leaving your body. You inspected his face to try to see what he wanted, when instantaneously, his hand appeared in the water with you. His long fingers dipped into the warm bath water, lightly grazing your outer thigh. You cautiously lifted your leg, the sound of the water trickling off of your skin. He froze, unsure of what to do next. 
You grasp your hand around his fingers and pull them down toward your slit. Slowly you and Hyunjin inch closer, careful to notice any hesitation, but soon it is his hand leading yours. It is his fingers that are pulling closer towards your enterance. One finger gracefully strokes the outside of your cunt. Starting at the top and sliding down between your lips, then back up again. He was completely entranced, utterly hypnorized. You let out a ragged breath as you watched his index and middle finger, little by little, message your soft lips until your clit began to swell. His middle finger felt it first, welcoming the invitation on sliding in deeper. 
His hand completely moving on instinct now. Rubbing around the clit, small circles at first. He wanted to learn what you liked, how your body reacted. It was like painting again, combining different colors to see what new would come of it. He felt your legs twitch when he applied more pressure, your hips would buck ever so slightly when his rubbed faster. He wanted to see what else he could make your body do. You were his best art project. His human canvas.
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kamaluhkhan · 5 months
Text
you are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad)
pairing: young!coryo snow x fem!reader
summary: clemensia dovecote has a theory that you and snow are destined for an enemies to lovers arc. you're sure it's completely, absolutely not true...right?
warnings: 18 + smut; biting + mention of blood ; both reader and snow are not the best ppl and have some very classist/elitist opinions
a/n: finally!! i wrote one of the ideas that has been haunting me ever since i've been back in my hunger games obsession + watched tbosbas...needless to say this will likely be a series inspired by taylor swift's reputation album. also i am so sorry this is unedited bc ofc it's 3am when i had the motivation to write this but i hope y'all enjoy ♡
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i've had enemies so intense it felt like love, so mutual it felt romantic (chelsea hodson)
"what in the name of all the gods is he doing here?"
you're practically seething when coriolanus snow walks into your foyer. he's wearing an ensemble made with crisp white silk and intricately embroidered with gold thread - elegant, eventhough its silhouette would have been fashionable last year. a single white rose sits in the pocket of his jacket. he surveys the crowd, like he's calculating who's most worthy of his attention, platnium blond hair perfectly curled and practically glowing under the light of the chandelier. he looks beautiful, almost angelic.
you absolutely hate it.
"oh, i invited him," clemensia dovecote informs non-chalantly.
coriolanus makes eye contact with you from across the room, and you turn your head sharply to your best friend.
"why would you think it was okay to invite him?"
clemensia smiles mischeviously, grabbing two champagne flutes from a passing silver tray. she hands one to you.
"i know the two of you have your petty squabbles — "
"they are not petty, nor are they squabbles," you grumble, taking a sip of your drink.
your contempt towards coriolanus was perfectly reasonable and absolutely mutual. he had some ridiculous notion that snow had to land on top, that it was his right to be there instead of yours. your relationship, if you could call it that, was limited to nothing more than snide remarks, sarcastic comments, and scornful stares. you both hyperaware of the importance of keeping up appearances, but the older you got - the closer to life outside of the academy and the higher the stakes - the more any sense of civility between you two faded. just earlier this week, you'd gotten into such a heated debate about the best way to increase viewership for the upcoming 10th annual hunger games, that your professor excused you both from the class early due to the disruption. it seemed that no one knew how to make you burn with anger quite like coriolanus snow.
clemensia rolls her eyes. "whatever you want to call it, i actually think the two of you would get along if you really tried."
one of the things you admired - and, frankly, loathed - about clemensia was her determination to always prove herself right. she had this theory - one you would call ludicrous - that the tension between you and coriolanus had nothing to do with academics or status and everything to do with wanting to rip each other's clothes off.
your eyes catch coriolanus' icy blue ones again and you down the rest of your drink. obviously, clemensia was wrong about this. so, very wrong.
"well," you huff, setting your empty glass down on another silver tray that passes by. you brush invisible dust off your dress - a deep red lace, short and form fitting with exaggerated long sleeves - and add: "you'll be lucky if i invite you to my next party."
clemensia might have had the sense to apologize then, but you walked away before she had a chance.
you allow yourself to weave through the crowd, greeting every guest with an equal facade of enthusiasm and grace. you smile as brightly at one person as you do the next, showing off your newly bleached teeth and making sure that everyone feels special. silver trays of food and drinks appear and reappear throughout the crowd, being carried by nameless waiters. there's a table overflowing with gifts concealed by crisply folded wrapping paper - you expect at least half of them will be worthless.
you put up a good front, but soon enough your lipstick needs reapplying and your hair readjusting, so you briefly excuse yourself lest anyone notice a crack in your perfectly constructed image. the door to your room is slightly ajar, and you open it to reveal none other than the person you'd deliberately, but not so successfully, tried to ignore all night, his white silk shirt stained a dark crimson that happened to match your dress.
coriolanus was furious when he found out you'd invited the entire graduating class, except him, to your birthday party. you'd even invited sejanus. it wasn't that he particularly wanted to celebrate you, of all people. you were the most brilliant, biting, enfuriating person he knew, but to be excluded in such a way was insulting. when clemensia extended him the invite, he jumped at the chance to prove to everyone, to you, that he belonged here. tigris curated his outfit, and it would have been perfect had arachne crane, vapid creature she was and ever the lightweight, spilled an entire glass of red wine on him. he hurried away before anyone could see him in such a humiliating state. coriolanus is in the middle of calculating his options when you walk into what he now realizes is your bedroom.
you don't say a word at first. you haven't said one to him all night. instead, you close the door behind you and your eyes graze his figure.
"you show up to my party, late no less, and now you're parading around in what looks like a bloodstained shirt that is far too outmoded to be appropriate attire for this occasion," you remark, displaying that signature fierceness. "are you trying to ruin my birthday, snow?"
"don't blame me," coriolanus scoffs. his shoulders tense and he makes a point to stand up a bit straighter. "blame arachne for not being able to hold her alcohol while she's complaining about the food."
"oh?" you raise an eyebrow. "what did she say?"
"something about people in the districts having better options."
"vapid bitch," you mutter under your breath. you walk over to your closet, disappearing for a few seconds before bringing out a fresh shirt. you extend it to him, but he doesn't take it.
"i can't very well have a good time when one of my guests looks like he just got killed in the hunger games," you huff. "so either you put this on or your leave my party. now."
coriolanus holds your gaze, his jaw clenched, before giving in and taking the shirt from you. he goes to undo the buttons of his shirt, but stops when he notices that your eyes never leave him.
"some privacy would be nice," he says sharply.
you roll your eyes, muttering something about it being your house and your room, before sitting across the room at your vanity. as he undresses and throws his soiled shirt on the floor, coriolanus watches you closely. you meticulously apply lipstick, the shade of red almost as dark as your black nails.
you were attractive, there was no denying that, but ultimately dangerous. because you weren't carelessly cruel like arachne, nor did you wear your heart on your sleeve like sejanus. you didn't use your family's status as an excuse to avoid hard work like felix, nor were you a spineless know-it-all like clemensia. no, you were different from the rest. you had a fiery ambition and a sharp tongue, a wicked streak with just enough charisma to lure people in. sometimes when he thinks of you, coriolanus recalls stories his grandma'am once told him and tigress, about sea monsters who would tempt sailors with their bewitching voices and enchanting beauty, enticing them to risk everything - to jump into the ocean and never be relevant as anything more than a midnight snack. you were a constant, suffocating reminder of how quickly he could lose everything if he lost control, if he gave in.
coriolanus watches you set down the tube of lipstick before picking up a compact. you lightly brush the shimmery powder inside over your face to accentuate some of your gorgeous features.
the desire that burns throughout his body now has to be a side effect of the few glasses of liquor he managed to drink, allowing himself the appearance of having a good time alongside everyone else without losing control.
your eyes leave your reflection momentarily, and you finally catch coriolanus staring at you. you wink at him from across the room just as he's finished with the last button. the way you look at him makes the collar of his shirt feel tighter.
he can not give in....but what's the harm in admitting, just for one night, that he would let you drown him? devour him? beg on his knees to give you pleasure, and then thank you after the fact?
coriolanus clears his throat. "this feels wrong. i should be the one gifting you with a new shirt. it's your birthday, after all."
you let out a breathy laugh, setting down your makeup. you walk over to him, until there are only a few inches between you despite the vastness of your bedroom.
even you had to concede that coriolanus snow had such a gorgeous face for such a vicious person. you're infuriated by how elegant he looks now, in your shirt. your hands busy themselves in smoothing down his already perfect collar and you take note of the intensity of his heartbeat. you notice the way his jaw remains clenched, his posture stiff, his skin flushed. you realize that he must be trying so hard right now to retain his composure around you and you feel something that can only be described as triumph.
you smile at him, sickly sweet, and remove your hands from his body. "the best birthday present i could get is winning the plinth prize over you, snow. we both know you're not good enough, let alone better than me."
he hesitates slightly before responding.
"sorry, valerius. that's the one thing i can't give you. is there anything else you'd want from me?" he whispers, words dripping like honey.
"that depends, is there anything you want from me?"
he hums, moving his hand to cup your cheek. he begins to trace your lips with his thumb, ruining the look you had so meticulously crafted.
if only you knew.
"you're the birthday girl, sweetheart," he chides. "i'm supposed to be the one giving the gift. you do know how birthdays work, don't you?"
he's mocking you, you know that. he's trying to make you feel weak and small. you had the power a second ago, his heartbeat in the palm of your hand, and normally you wouldn't stand for him turning the tables. you'd push him away, storm out the door. but right now all you want is to tug on his perfect blond curls, to bite the smirk off his lips. maybe it's the way he's so close and can't seem to take his eyes off your lips or the calculated amount of wine you drank that's made your head a bit foggy, made you put your guard down. made you start to entertain the idea that maybe possibly clemensia's theory had some truth to it.
"why don't you surprise me?" you suggest.
coriolanus surges forward and kisses you with such ferocity, he might as well be a man starving. teeth on teeth on tongue. you instantly tangle your hands into his hair, pull on some curls just to see what he'd do. he retaliates by biting down on your bottom lip, hard enough that you taste the metallic tang of blood mixed with the remnants of honeyed wine on his lips. you whimper and pull away slightly. he holds your face firmly between his two hands, so you cannot go too far.
"sorry." but he smirks, and you know he doesn't really mean it.
eventually, you've both stumbled onto the bed half-naked. coriolanus positions himself above you, effectively caging you in with his arms and legs. you take note of his lean thighs, his bare torso with skin taut around his bones. you're almost taken aback by how frail he looks - like a malnourished teenager from one of the districts. you reach out to trace the outline of his ribs, your nails scraping against his skin, and he shudders. your hand moves lower, teasing the waistband of his underwear. he stops you before it slips underneath the material.
instead, coriolanus begins to indulge in his deepest fantasy. he kisses and sucks and bites down your body, his tongue trailing down your chest, over your breasts and around your nipples, across your stomach. he laps up your soft whines, the curses that tumble from your lips for him to do something more. you sink further into the silk sheets when he arrives between your thighs. you raise your hips, desperate to find any sort of relief, and you feel his nails dig into your hips.
"patience," he teases, his breath fanning over where you needed him most. "so needy." you could practically feel coriolanus roll his eyes.
"i swear to god snow, if you don't do something soon. i-i'll go find someone else to fuck me. felix, or maybe sejanus --"
you yelp when his teeth sink into your inner thigh. he looks up at you, eyes the darkest blue you've ever seen them.
"don't," coriolanus warns, and he gets back to work, lips actually arriving at where you needed them most.
after you've reached your high, he comes back up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. when he pulls away, you take note of how his lips and nose shine with remnants of you. the way he looks at you while he licks his lips shows you that he wants more. you move your hand down, and you're deeply satisfied when you feel him half hard, already sticky with his release.
"oh." you smirk. "you already finished."
his eyes widen, skin flushing pink. you could feel his heartbeat grow faster above you. you could imagine he was debating the best way to restore his dominance from before. yet, here he was, nothing but a horny teenage boy who came untouched as he was eating out his worst enemy. you find it in you to not call him pathetic, but instead decide, in your post-orgasm haze, you find it endearing.
"i-i didn't mean to, but --"
"i'm just that sexy when i cum," you suggest, running your hands through his curls to calm him down. "how about we try again, pretty boy?"
soon enough, he's sitting up with his back against your headboard and your legs wrapped around his waist, his length fully nestled into your warm cunt. coriolanus' blunt nails graze your hips, moving lower to your ass to guide you with each thrust. you love seeing him underneath you, seeming completely mesmerized by how your breasts bounce up and down in front of him. he leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple, but you beat him to it. you bend forward and suck bruises onto his skin, everywhere and anywhere: underneath his chin, across his collarbone, where his neck meets his shoulder.
his moans are so loud, and you're sure he's not going to last much longer. you're also worried that some of the other party guests might catch you, so you pull his head away from your shoulder and crash your lips back onto to his. you swallow his moans as best you can, tongues fight for dominance, but he lets out a deep groan, and lets you win. you bite down on his bottom lip just as you reach your climax, causing him to let out a deep groan once more.
you gasp when he suddenly flips you over, pulls out of you and stokes himself a few times before painting your body with his release. coriolanus all but collapses on the bed beside you. you're both breathing heavily for a few moments, on your backs looking up at the ceiling, before he turns on his side towards you. coriolanus trails hs fingers down to your abdomen, sticky with his cum.
"i told you: snow lands on top."
"was that a joke, coryo?" you guffaw, genuinely surprised at the mischievous but playful glint in his eye. a bit surprised at yourself, too, for using his nickname that you'd so carefully avoided. you had to remind yourself that he was still the same coriolanus snow you'd grown to hate.
the boy tangled in the sheets beside you, his messy curls translucent under the light of your chandelier, his skin glowing with sweat and decorated with lipstick and rose-petal bruises. the boy who now smiles at you with dazzling blue eyes, leans closer and whispers:
"don't get used to it. it's a special occasion." coriolanus kisses you sweetly, and you shiver before he adds: "happy birthday."
this boy in bed with you now is the same manipulative, power hungry snake who would stab you in the back if need be. and, the truth of the matter is: you aren't much different, either.
you get up to grab his wine-stained shirt, use it to wipe off his release and toss it back down to the floor.
his eyes follow you the entire time, even as you come back to straddle him again. almost instantly, you feel him harden underneath you. you hold his head in your hands, kiss him deeply, tease his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away.
"snow lands on top, huh? not for long, if i can help it."
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bahablastplz · 2 months
Text
Roommate: Chan x Reader
Roommate Chan who wants to help you destress with a massage after a long day... Content: Just straight-up smut Warnings: Fingering, praise, degradation, a little humiliation WC: 1100
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You were laying on the couch with Chan. 
Chan has been your roommate for some time and your friend for longer than you could remember, so to be sprawled across the couch, limbs somewhat intertwined and a movie to be played in the background was nothing unfamiliar. Especially after a long day at work, taking the time to unwind together was nothing new. 
But today you were just so tense. Stiff all over, muscles tense and sore, you were unable to find relief. You suppose that your gym workout from yesterday had been a little intense, and you were certainly feeling it now. 
Subconsciously as you watched, you started to punch your legs a little bit, trying to get the tightened muscles to relax. 
Chan’s hands shot out and grabbed your own, making you freeze. 
“What are you doing, babygirl?” He sounded concerned but the nickname made sparks fly through your body. 
“Nothing,” you say, trying to explain it away. Of course, Chan would never let that happen. 
He doesn’t let go of his grasp on your hand. “You call punching your legs ‘nothing?’” He inquires. 
“My legs are just a little sore,” you sigh. “It was leg day yesterday.” 
“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it did. His eyes are back on the screen, but his hands are grabbing your legs to place them over his lap, pulling you even closer to him.  
“What are you–” 
“Shhh, helping,” he says. His big, strong hands are on your legs now, his dexterous fingers working into your muscles. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him working away the tension, his thumbs moving over your thighs to rub deep yet gentle circles into your skin.  You’re aware of every movement, however, and you hate how flustered his actions have you. Chan never shied away from physical touch, and he’s even given you a brief platonic shoulder massage before. As your roommate, of course he’s seen you in more vulnerable scenarios, seeing into the more casual or intimate aspects of your life, but this… you couldn’t help but stare at the man who seemed so unfazed. 
As he rubs into a particularly sore area, you let out a tiny groan. 
“Feels good?” he asks, a small smirk splaying across his features but his eyes glued to the screen. 
You nod your head. The tone of his voice has arousal running through your entire body and your breath hitches as he moves higher, still only mid-thigh. You hope he doesn’t catch your reaction–surely he won’t, he’s not even watching you.  
Lightly he slaps the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Use your words,” he scolds. 
“Yes,” you answer, too fast. “Feels good, Chan.” 
“Good girl,” he praises, though the way he coos the words makes it feel less like a compliment. Your eyes stay glued to him and the way he stays unaffected; his words make you squeeze your thighs together lightly, searching for a little relief. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab the flesh of your thigh hard between his fingers, causing you to let out a moan. 
“Such a filthy girl,” he says. “Here I am trying to give you a massage and make you feel good but you’re over here having dirty thoughts, aren’t you?” His hand stays between your legs, rubbing your inner thigh but not making its way higher. You squeeze your legs harder, trapping his hand between your legs. 
“Need you, Chan. Touch me, please?” You decide to just say it, just needing to get past the hurdle knowing it will be worth it. He doesn’t let up as easily as you think though. 
“Oh? But I am touching you, sweet girl,” he says, pinching your inner thigh and causing you to spread them open for him. “Or are you talking about your needy pussy?” He trails his hand up, resting it against your clothed core. You nod your head unabashedly and he laughs at your excitement. His eyes are on you now, finally, and you burn under his gaze. You watch as he pushes the fabric to the side and dips his fingers shallowly into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He pulls out to show you how soaked his fingers are. 
“Look how wet you are for me, baby,” he praises. “My sweet, dirty girl is so needy for me, all from a little touching.” 
“Just for you,” you confirm, and you watch him take a deep breath, affected by your words. Sliding his hands back down to your center, he gathers more of your arousal and spreads it around your clit, circling slowly around the area with his fingers. It’s obvious from his stare that he is more than alright with taking his time with you, relishing in the way that you fall apart on his fingers. He hisses when you spread your legs open wide for him, giving him full access. He moves fast, grabbing your shorts and ripping them off of your body. When you close your legs again he tuts, grabbing them and forcing them wide open for him, slotting his body in between your legs. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He slides two fingers into your entrance now, shallowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. “Such a slutty pussy, for me.” You relinquish control and let him take over, submitting to the urge to arch your back and let out a loud moan. He continues to babble about how he can’t believe he’s waited for so long to have you like this, how he’s been thinking of touching your pussy for so long, and you start to tremble beneath him. 
“Chan,” you say, trying to warn the man, but he shushes you. 
“I got you,” he says. He shoves his fingers into you deeper but doesn’t change his pace, curling his fingers. “Let go for me.” That’s all you need to find your release, completely coming apart for him on his fingers. He sweet talks you right through your orgasm, slowing his movements. 
You watch as he pulls his fingers out of you, looking deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “So sweet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He reaches over your body for the remote, clicking the power button and turning off the device. The action makes you laugh. 
“What?” he laughs with you. “Don’t act like you were actually watching that, I definitely wasn’t.” You scoff at his words and screech as he picks you up, cradling you into his chest. 
“Your room or mine?”  ***
Author's note: Sorry not sorry for the double Chan post, he is my bias though so don't be surprised...
Masterlist Recs
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prncessjaeger · 4 months
Text
eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now
trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.  
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“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”
“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen. 
eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.
the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”
“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”
“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”
“you’ll see.”
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crystalflygeo · 4 months
Text
Virgin-killer Sweater ft Zhongli + fem!reader
cw/tags: Riding, fingering, handjob, tit play, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, inappropriate use (or is it?) of the virgin killer sweater//jk
notes: Hi hello I hope this breaks my dry spell happy 2024 I didn't expect to write this at all but @ainescribe (<3) tested my horny braincell by giving me this prompt and wHEW it got good
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You blinked in surprise at the item that dropped out of the small plastic bag onto the bed as you were organizing the closet. Thick light blue wool greeting your eyes as you picked it and stared at it confused until it clicked. It was some stupid thing a friend had prank gifted you some years ago, you were surprised to find it bundled up in a corner after all these years a so-called ‘virgin-killer sweater’. It used to be all the rage, but you swore you could never wear something so… revealing, at all.
Yet you kept it.
You bite your lip and sneak a glance at the mirror.
You’re older now, your body a bit more… ahem… shapely. And enjoyed indulging in some sexy clothing once in a while, if only for the confidence boost and the look on your dear husband’s face.
Hm, what would he think of this? Your cheeks warm up a little, it’s so silly.
With a slow hum you stand up and shrug off your current lounge shirt, unclasping your bra and kicking off your shorts before sliding the wooly article over your head, shivering at how it feels over your bare skin. The material is thick and warm, soft yet admittedly a little ticklish.
“There is no way this is meant to be worn with nothing under…” You mumble blushing a little as you struggle to adjust it. The openings at the sides are impossibly deep and no matter how much you tug and pull at the bottom it either dips way too low on your lower back or reaches too high on your thighs.
Maybe it’s a little… short on you?
You stare at the mirror from different angles and twirl around, it’s fuzzy at the neck and front the front it looks kind of cute but everything is else is… well…
You huff a little embarrassed. Well, you suppose it could be nice if matched with another top, using it like a vest or something… maybe with a backless top or lace just so some of the skin still showed thro- 
The sound of the apartment opening caught you attention and immediately made you heart speed up.
“Darling, I’m home.”
Oh, no!
No no no no no no-
“J-Just a moment!” You scramble for your clothes while trying to take off the atrocious garment when you slip over some other clothes and items scattered around in your cleaning spree.
The loud thump and your following yelp coming from the room was surely enough to gather even the neighbor’s attention.
You hear quick footsteps and then Zhongli appears at the bedroom’s door, eyes wide in worry before stopping dead in his tracks.
Squealing you struggle between sitting up and trying to cover your crotch and your butt with the offending piece of clothing.
“T-This is not-! Wait! D-Don’t look!”
A flush spreads over your face as you try to curl up into a ball in embarrassment. Zhongli’s golden eyes study you for a few tense moments before he quickly reacts, coming to help you up.
“Are you hurt?”
“N-No, I’m fine…”
He regards your outfit with fascination and you shrink under the intense gaze. Zhongli is observant, he doesn’t merely stare, he evaluates… appraises things with those mesmerizing golden eyes.
“What is that?”
“A sweater… sort of.” You mumble, still uncomfortably pulling at the hem and the bottom and feeling it dip lower than intended at your butt, again. 
“It’s very unique.”
“it’s stupid.” You puff out mortified, picking up your shorts from the corner of the bed.
“Wait-” Zhongli’s hand stops yours and you feel goosebumps rise along your naked shoulders. “Let me see you, please…”
You gulp and feel your heart thump in your ears, buzzing with some sort of giddy nervous excitement.
You’re being ridiculous, it’s not like he hasn't seen you in less… or nothing at all.  
You push the thought away standing back a few steps, the deep cuts down the sides granting him a glorious peek of sideboob. You nervously fidget with the hems.
“I-I think it’s a little sma-”
“Let me see the back...”
Oh. That deep tender sound. It was not a demand but a plea, a hint of sensual hunger under the calm stillness of his voice, soft and humming like he does when he holds you close.
You turn and brush your hair out of the way, straightening up as you had in front of the mirror, showing off the low low cut at the back, the hem of your panties peeking through.
“it’s…” You start.
“Tantalizing…” He hums.
You can see his Adam’s apple bob and his eyes darken just so, and your lips part with a soft sound.
“You look gorgeous, my dear.”
Your skin breaks into goosebumps again. “I-It’s embarrassing.” You insist, yet any other complaint dies in your lips with a squeak as Zhongli’s palms runs over your exposed shoulder blades, large and warm, and you feel his breath on your ear, a soft sigh.
You whine when he drags his knuckles along your spine, savoring the dip and arch of your back, caressing the tender skin, tracing the edges of the fabric along the swell of your butt and dipping lower to fondle it.
“Zhongli…” You whimper breathlessly.
“Shh… I got you.” Zhongli soothes you with a low croon, nuzzling into the slope between your covered neck and onto your shoulder. The skin there is hot and he nibbles at it gently. “I could just eat you up.”  
“You could…” You mumble, the anticipation boils between your legs.
“I think I might.” He replies low, words heated at the shell of your ear before he nips there too, his hands sliding back up the smooth skin of your naked back, fingers teasing at the edges of your breasts before slipping under the knitted garment and cupping them. You gasp.
Your nipples are already hard, little peaks against the wool, so sensitive as they rub the soft material while Zhongli massages and plays with your chest. “Hnnng… ah!” slender fingers take one of the little buds between them, pinching and tweaking just enough that your back arches and your mouth opens in a silent moan.
“So, so beautiful…” He kisses the top of your spine, teasing there with his teeth.   
“S-Stop teasi-oh Oh!” A chill runs down your body as he unexpectedly licks a stripe along your back and then you hear him chuckle against your skin, it makes your heart jump.
His hands never stop caressing your breasts, and he cups both before giving them a squeeze. Zhongli tilts forward pressing against you and you can feel a certain hardness against your ass. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes… feels good- hah.” You pant, eyes fluttering closed. “Mmm… Li… more please.”
Oh, how he loves seeing you like this, face flushed and eyes half lidded in bliss. He rubs his thumb against your pebbled nipple and then pinches it again making you gasp and squirm. Your hips buck and rub back unconsciously, seeking fiction.
“Come here.” He kisses your cheek and sits at the edge of the bed, gently stringing you along. “Take off your panties, let me help you darling.” His hands roam your thighs and pull the hem of the sweater just a little, hunching it at your hips. You’re too horny to care at this point and brace your hands on Zhongli’s broad shoulders as he slips your underwear down your knees, you gingerly step out of them and sink into his lap with practiced ease.
Your lips meet in a kiss as you circle his neck with your arms, immediately licking into his mouth and moaning as he adjusts your position, cupping your ass and accompanying the soft sway of your hips as you grind against his bulge. Zhongli groans on your mouth.
The slight coldness in your naked back makes for such a contrast against the hot wetness between your legs, the sweater’s fabric rubbing on your chest as you move, further stimulating as he continues to devour you, just as he said.
His hands move to your thighs, tracing patterns that have your legs quaking and tensing before his fingers dips lower below the cotton and brush your heated pussy. You break the kiss with a mewl.
“Ah… f-fuck… wait-”
He traces those sinful fingers along your folds, poking and prodding, smearing your wetness and finding your entrance. You kiss him fiercely again, combing your fingers on his hair pulling him closer and tilting your head.
It’s needy, it’s desperate, it’s…       
He sinks the tips of his fingers inside you and you muffle another sound, shifting and grinding on his lap again. He works you open slowly, sinful fingers following the pace of your kiss becoming more and more daring. Oh, his pants have to go. Now.
Fumbling hands work his belt open and struggle for a few moments with his pants, enough so two of his fingers sink down to the knuckle. You whine and he chuckles, both gasping as your lips separate again.
“Let me- fuck, please-” You paw at Zhongli’s crotch incessantly, worked up. Finally, that perfect thick cock springs free, leaking slightly at the tip and gods your mouth waters.
“So impatient.” He grunts as you trace a finger along his length, thumb rubbing at the tip collecting the bead of precum there and wiping it on your tongue before you can even think, the musky tart taste makes you burn with want.
You notice how his length is trapped between your bodies, pressed against your navel and rubbing on the dumb sweater… and a wicked idea comes to mind. You smirk.
You wrap your hand around Zhongli’s cock, pumping slowly and firmly, and once you feel him resume the movement of his fingers inside you, you start canting your hips again, purposefully making it so the thick wool of your attire strokes against his sensitive shaft, adding another layer of stimulation.
“You- hah…” His words dissolve into a moan as you bite your lip and try to keep up the pace, it’s clumsy but the sounds you pull from him and the way his fingers stretch and pump you is so delicious, feels so good…
In no time your breath quickens. You pump your hand faster. More and more. Hot, so hot, so good. Your eyes fluttering shut, concentrating on the feelings. Your mind slow and hazy, just chasing that delicious pleasure. Only you two exist at this moment.
“Li, I’m… I-I’m…”
His thumb brushes against your clit and you come undone with a sharp cry, a quick and hard orgasm wracking your body and you keen and cry out, vision going blank.
His cock throbs in your palm, hot and hard and you gulp, moving a little sluggish to rise on trembling knees “More please, want you, need you…” You whisper and pull the sweater up to your waist. He helps you get it out of the way and then sink down on him, inch by inch filling you way more than his fingers did.
He hums and tips his head forward to rest his forehead against yours, basking in the closeness for a moment. “Are you ready?” Your eyes meet and you nod.
He leans down to kiss as his hands slide to your hips for support. You love the way Zhongli kisses you when he’s inside you. He tastes like sweet decadent tea, like hunger, passionate, unyielding, insatiable hunger.
He lets out a low growl as you lift and drop your hips against him, that thick cock molding your insides and rubbing all the right spots. You feel his fingers tightening their grip around you as you pick up the pace, grabbing his shoulders for support as you ride him. Your kiss dissolving to fleeting pecks as you pant and moan against each other’s lips.
His hips move under you, matching your rhythm as he rolls them in time with your hips. Heavy lidded eyes take in your figure writhing on his lap before he leans forward with a wicked thought of getting even at you and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, wetting the fabric as he mouths and sucks at the little peak. You let out a high-pitched whine and claw at his back.
“So close, so close, please please please…” You babble as that sweet climax builds closer and closer.
Your thighs quiver and Zhongli takes over, planting his feet on the ground and beginning to thrust in earnestly. You sob and arch your back, clinging to his shoulders as he slams into you chasing his pleasure.
“So beautiful… your little sounds… your skin…” He hisses, his breath coming in hard gasps. “Come for me. Come, come, come, come-”
You arch your back and keen as your orgasm washes over you, shuddering on his hold as it drags this time. You feel a pulse and then a flood of sticky warmth inside you as he cums, groaning low and resting his head against the valley between your breasts. Your body melts against his as you both rest there, catching your breaths.
You nuzzle at his hair as you come down from your high, pressing a fond kiss to the top of his head. In turn, his arms surround you and hug you closer, sighing into your chest with contentment.
“Hm… want to accompany me for a shower, my love?” He asks as you pull back a little to stare at him, his hands cup your face.
You test your legs as you try to stand up but your knees wobble and there’s a tingling feeling still simmering on your skin. “You’ll have to carry me.” You decide, plopping back on his lap.
He chuckles, deep and precious as he kisses your nose. “Anything for you.”
“Hmm, you know Li… I think I’ll keep it.” You smile mischievously as your hand brushes the wool at your neck.
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tiyoin · 26 days
Text
parents day shenanigans
ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker
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it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭
you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.
this doesn’t stop though.
the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.
you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.
why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.
“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.
though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.
“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.
and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.
“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.
“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.
“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.
“he- he talks about me?”
like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”
about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.
“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.
“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.
“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.
“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.
“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.
huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”
“allow me to try” a voice interjected.
you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.
“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”
“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.
“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.
“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.
laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“
“mom?!”
kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.
“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”
trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.
“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”
waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.
“mom-“
“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”
you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”
quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.
huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.
“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )
there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”
“bubbly?”
“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”
“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.
“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”
“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”
like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.
“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.
“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”
“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.
“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”
“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“
ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”
“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).
“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”
“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.
“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”
cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.
and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.
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ellecdc · 1 month
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DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩
okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.
this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols
CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions. 
He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy. 
Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior. 
Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.
His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door. 
“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.
The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.
“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.
Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.
“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on. 
“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”
“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.
“Barty...”
“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.
“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”
“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood. 
“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.
“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.
You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”
Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”
More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.
You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.
“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”
“I...I just-”
And you passed out.
“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.
“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.
He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.
He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless. 
His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...
Oh gods, your parents.
That’s why you were here.
You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.
Fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Any why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.
Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.
“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate. 
You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back. 
“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”
You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain. 
“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”
“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”
“Where were you trying to go?”
“The Potter’s.”
“And why can’t you go there now?”
You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.
“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.
He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.
He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all. 
“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.
“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”
He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves. 
“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.
“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.
Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.
Except something was very, very wrong.
The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.
“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.
He wished you could have kicked at him.
“Yes, Barty.” You cried.
“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.
“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand. 
“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either. 
Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help. 
Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.
Fortunately, there were ways around that. 
Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.
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“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”
Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be. 
“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”
Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.
“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”
Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”
“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.
Help is coming, Treasure. 
“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”
Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.
He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.
“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”
Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 
“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”
Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius. 
“Where is Regulus right now?”
Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless. 
“Upstairs with Remus.”
Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”
Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”
“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”
“For what?”
Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.
“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.
Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding. 
“Where is-”
“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”
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“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room. 
“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.
“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.
Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.
“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.
 Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.
“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door. 
“She...she was bitten.”
Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.
He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.
“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.
“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding. 
“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.
You looked like you were dying.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.
“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”
“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.
“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.
“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.
Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue. 
“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.
“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.
“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest. 
“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.
“Where’s the silver from?”
“Slughorn’s supply closet.”
Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”
“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned. 
Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.
Pure...
Toujours pur. 
“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.
“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”
Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.
“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”
“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”
Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.” 
Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot last night to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.
“I don’t understand.” 
“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.
“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”
“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it. 
“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother. 
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Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.
Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful. 
“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.
“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.
“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.” 
“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.
“Yet you still worry?”
“Yet I still worry.” 
Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.
“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.
Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.
You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.
He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.
“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.
Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.
“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door. 
“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.
“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.
“Been worse.” Remus answered.
“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.
“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.
“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.
“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”
Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.
“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.
“No, well, yes...she-”
“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.
“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”
Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.
“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains. 
“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly. 
“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”
“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”
“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”
Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.
“She was bitten, Rem.”
All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.
“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.
“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”
“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser. 
“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation. 
“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.
“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily. 
Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.
“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.
Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.
“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.
Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.
“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.
“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.
The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses. 
“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.
Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”
“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”
“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.
“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.
Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene. 
“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.
“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”
You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.
“Remus will hate me.”
Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.
“Why would he hate you, sweets?”
“He hates werewolves.”
Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back. 
“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.
“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.
“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t there. 
“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front. 
You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.
“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead. 
“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany. 
“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly. 
“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”
“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus. 
“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel all better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold. 
“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembers his older brother being. 
What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?
How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?
“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.
“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.
“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.
“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.
“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.
“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.
“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.
Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment. 
Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.
“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.
“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.  
“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.
“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”
It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus. 
“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.
Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.
“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted. 
“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
“Remus.” Sirius warned. 
“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained. 
“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.
“I know, dove.”
“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot. 
“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly. 
“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”
Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled. 
“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.
Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement. 
“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.
“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.
You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath. 
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Note
Hello! How do you think König (or any of the guys really) would react to you calling them "my sweet lil guy"?
Thanks for this request!!🩷🩵🩷🩵 I just did this for multiple characters, as I thought this would be funny to see them! They’re short and sweet!
141 + Königs Reactions to Reader Calling Them "My Sweet Lil Guy."
Warnings: slight swearing, fluff, slight sexual references
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Simon Ghost Riley-
“Bloody hell.” Simon groaned, his hands moving to grasp at his back. “Damn thing hurts.”
"Awe, my sweet lil guy got a backache?" You teased, moving to rub Simon's back gently.
Simon turned, slowly, toward you a look of mock horror on his face. "The hell you just call me?"
You bit your lip to prevent a giggle, watching the confusion on your boyfriend's face with amusement. "My... sweet lil guy?"
Simon stared at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but little isn’t one of them.”
“First for everything I suppose.” You shrugged your shoulders, struggling not to crack a smile under Simon’s intense stare.
“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Simon chuckled, kissing your temple.
“I’m the little brat, you’re the sweet lil guy.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.”
“You’re pushing it, kid.”
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Johnny.” You smiled, introducing your boyfriend to your group of friends.
"Is this the "sweet lil guy" you've been telling us all about?" Your friend asked as she regarded Johnny with a smile.
Johnny blinked a few times before looking at you. "Your sweet lil guy?"
Your friend gave a hearty chuckle. "Yep, they call you thay all the time."
“Tha’ so?” Johnny quirked a brow at you, a devious smile making its way to his lips.
“Johnny no, pl-.” You started, but Johnny was quick to cut you off.
“That’s not what they were screaming in bed last night.”
Oh yeah, he won your friends over that night.
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John Price-
“Cmon, sweetheart. It’s past midnight, surely you can put the book down and go to bed.” John groaned, it was well past his bedtime.
“Is my sweet lil guy tired?” You cooed, turning to face John in bed. “Promise I’m almost done.”
"Your sweet lil guy?" He looked at you, bemused by your nickname. “That really what comes to mind when you think of me?”
“Sure is.” You faked a yawn, flipping over to finish the chapter of the book you were reading.
John wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. “Yeah, you’re sure about that?”
Your cheeks burned crimson, the prominent bulge in your lovers boxers now pressing hard against your back. “Y-yes.”
“Give me about two minutes. Once my cocks inside that pretty little mouth of yours- you’ll be choking on those words.”
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König-
“Maus, can you help me with these straps?” König asked, gesturing to the buckled straps of his vest. “I can’t reach them.”
“I’ve got you sweet lil guy.” You chuckled, making your way over to him. You began to fiddle with the straps before he stopped you, abruptly turning to face you.
Königs cheeks became beat red as he stuttered out his words. "W-what?"
“Sweet lil guy? I meant it as a term of endearment Kö.” You blinked a few times, watching as your boyfriend’s face became as red as a tomato.
König couldn’t explain why.. exactly the name had him feeling so flustered. He was ANYTHING but small, in any regard, but he…liked the thought. It made him feel you didn’t find his large stature menacing, and the thought was comforting to him.
“Can you.. call me that again?”
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
“Damnit!” Kyle exclaimed, running his hands over his head in frustration. “I was so fucking close! I had him!”
"Did my sweet lil guy lose?" You chided, watching your boyfriend throw his controller on the couch in frustration.
“Yeah. I fucking did. I’ve been trying to beat that game all.. wait what did you call me?” Kyle whipped his head around to you, and it took everything in you not to laugh.
“My sweet lil guy is throwing a tantrum.” You giggled, watching as the corners of his lips turned upward. “Does baby need a kiss to make it better.”
Kyle nodded, his bottom lip pouting slightly. “I do.”
You bit your lip in amusement, before wrapping your arms around your boyfriend pulling him close to you. “I’ve got you baby boy.”
Kyle wouldn’t ever admit it, to anyone, but he certainly wouldn’t complain if you wanted to call him that again.
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