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#sometimes out of sight but never out of mind....... then my GOD the way he couldve clawed and pieced together a life for himself
biillys · 2 years
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gyllenchains: the question was what would he want to see for billy. i didn’t record the other part but he said billy had to die. so i’m gonna walk into traffic
dacre @ stranger con, chicago (9th oct 22)
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slttygeto · 7 months
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“my love, all mine.” — GOJO. S
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c.w: tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, fem! reader, i love gojo.
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satoru loves to love. it’s not that hard to see that the man is a lover boy through and through, but sometimes you see his eyes shine at the sight of one of his students, a puppy on the streets, a kid picking a flower for their mom, or when he locks eyes with you in the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning and the way his lips tilt upwards has you holding a hand up to your chest when he looks away, because god he was so cute.
so you ask him how it feels to love, you sit him down on the couch and tell him you want to try this new homemade face mask on him and he agrees without a second thought. he watches as you sit between his legs on the couch, a little uncomfortable but you don’t care, nor mind. you are so close to satoru’s pretty face.
“you love to love,” you point it out and dab the brush on his cheek before planting a gentle kiss to his lips. “why is that?”
“why do I love to love?” he asks with a chuckle and his hands rest on your ass with pure intentions. the man was super affectionate, and you learned the difference between him initiating something and simply being his cuddly self.
“mhm, it’s cute. but i feel like there’s more to it.” you point out and gojo has to hold himself back from calling you so adorable.
“because my love is mine. it belongs to me,” he starts and a hand brushes a single hair strand that fell on your race. “I get to feel it and give it to people that mean so much to me, but I love seeing it on other people.” his thumb brushes your cheek affectionately and his heart jumps when he feels you smile snd the muscles in your face move at the same time.
“see? that just made my heart jump.”
“you’re too much.” you try to fight back the blush creeping upwards but gojo has other plans as his hands cup your cheeks with two big hands before planting a deep kiss to your lips.
“mine.” he says and presses another kiss to your lips. “all mine, you are my love. you make loving so worth it.” you can’t even fight him on it, your hands weakly grabbing onto his wrists before asking him to let you breathe.
“too much love for today?” he pouts and you giggle.
“there’s never enough love, but I do need to breathe if you wanna keep loving me.”
gojo satoru was many things to other people. a teacher, a mentor, a father figure, a best friend and a lover. but to you, he was love.
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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anantaru · 8 months
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i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me
cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader
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bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.
bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.
and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.
bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.
bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.
and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?
they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.
and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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coryosbaby · 4 months
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Mascara || T. Riddle
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Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’
Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader
。.。 ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom
Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.
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Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.
The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.
The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.
You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.
He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.
You let out a breath of air.
You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.
“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”
His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.
To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.
He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.
“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”
Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.
“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.
“Don’t.”
You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.
“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”
It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.
“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”
“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”
“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”
His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.
“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”
“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”
He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.
“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.
“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”
You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.
“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.
“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”
His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.
You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.
Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.
“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”
You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.
When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.
“Prepared, weren’t you?”
You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.
Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.
“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.
His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.
And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.
“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”
He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.
He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.
When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.
He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.
“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”
Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.
“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.
“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”
It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.
He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.
“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”
“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.
“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”
Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.
“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”
A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.
You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.
“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”
Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.
He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.
You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.
“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment
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Chapter 28: How in the-
The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…
Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.
You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.
The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.
Today was a first. In a lot of ways.
The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.
You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.
Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.
Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.
John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.
And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.
“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.
“Have you been checked?”
“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.
“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.
“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.
“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.
“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.
They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.
So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.
“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.
Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.
“Fine, sweetheart.”
“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.
He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”
“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.
“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”
“And a bath?” You added.
“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.
After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.
Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…
Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”
“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.
“Stay. Please.” He requested.
“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.
“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.
“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.
You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.
Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.
“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.
Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 
The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 
Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.
The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.
“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.
“For bathing you?”
“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.
“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.
“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.
“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”
“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”
“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.
“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.
“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”
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writella · 7 months
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Thinking about Rick and slightly innocent, touch starved, virgin, fem!reader— ♡
Just smut this time, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.8k.
“I usually just touch myself at the top,” you explain, verbalizing your actions as you rub your clit with your middle finger, your pointer and ring brushing up against either side of your lips. You’re breathless, already panting. Doing this in front of him was too much. You just couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was here watching, enjoying. “Barely even put my fingers in- I get nervous- never feels good.”
“Never?” There’s a bit of surprise in Rick’s voice, but the grin he’s hiding loves every second of you showing him how much you need something- something bigger, something or someone like him and his fingers— his cock.
You pout with a hmph, “No,” you whine, your eyes trailing desperately. “They feel like nothing when I do it. And I don’t know how to make it feel good.”
Your actions, your words, it makes his tongue peek out of the side of his mouth. It’s only just a little, but a tiny bit drool is at the edge, almost rolling down and onto his chin. He licks it away before it falls.
His eyes are dark and lustful, dazed with the sight of you in only a shirt, underwear discarded, rubbing your puffy, wet pussy so fast right in front of him. He had been talking to Daryl outside the house, came up to get you for dinner at his, but then he caught you. He didn’t mean to, but the door was just a crack open: with one eye he could see your legs dangling off the bed, nose and eyes scrunched so tightly as your fingers played with yourself, whispering his name. That’s what set him off, the sweet little “Rick… Rick, Rick,” pants that came out of your mouth. That’s what made him come in without knocking. He told you not to stop.
And now, he stands right in front of your bed. Any closer and he’d be in between your legs. He can see you staring down every inch of him, eyes so wide, hopeful yet hopeless. You’re pathetically whimpering and whining at his own— those sparkly blue and wandering ones. He’s just as invested in the sight as you are.
You look at his pink parted lips and his tongue you want so badly in your mouth, and lower too, so much lower. You see his slick, curly hair, and that scruffy beard— you wouldn’t even care if it would make your sensitive lips burn down there. You want it. So bad. Your eyes go down further, seeing the way his hands are placed low at his hips, his groin jutted forward… Fuck. You need to see what’s underneath.
You rub your clit faster with two fingers now, biting on your bottom lip, looking at his fat bulge and wondering if he’s just getting hard or if it’s always looked big like that. It makes you feel like this one of your daydreams… you don’t know if your mind is enlarging it, but wow it looks good. You’d honestly sit on him right there, jeans and all with your bare pussy. Who cares if he’s been working all day, dealing with God knows what outside these walls. You’ll take anything. You bet even the littlest bit of something from him probably feels better than when you’re alone doing this anyway. You were tired of it, you wanted to be touched; you wanted to be fucked— fucked by Rick Grimes.
Rick finally sits on the bed. His face closer to you now as he asks, “You’ve ever made yourself cum, sweetheart?”
You're hesitant to answer but you shake your head, shy and slow. You feel embarrassed.
A chronic overthinker you were sometimes, you could never be in the moment and finally get yourself over the edge. Thinking about Rick always led to thinking about how you shouldn’t be doing it. He was the leader of your group, he had a daughter and a son, ones that you were far older than, but just enough to not possibly be their mother… at least not the eldest, anyway. This was wrong, but there he was: watching, staring, gazing. It only made you more and more wet, you almost couldn’t breathe.
“Poor baby,” Rick drawls and you whimper at the phrase.
He decides to relieve you, but only just a little bit by brushing his hand on your leg, stroking your thigh as he finally sits down next to you. It makes you gasp as you continue to pleasure yourself. Reaching lower to collect wetness to put over your clit. Your back arches at the feeling of him.
The sight makes him grin, laughing endearingly. Just that— just his hand, not even on your pussy and you’re already reeling.
“Such a pretty little thing, and no one’s ever made you feel good…? Can’t even do it to yourself either?” He tisks at the thought. “It’s a shame, honestly.”
All you do is whine. You want him to do it but you’re too scared to ask. You want him to want to do it, without asking, go all in and make you his. Why won’t he? It makes your moan, mix with a groan as you think about it.
You look up as his hand moves higher to your hip and his name comes out all desperate and needy as you plead, “Rick-”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
He ignores you. “Put a finger inside yourself. Let’s try again, okay? How about that?”
You whine his name again, but you still do as he says. Your hand trails lower, inserting your middle finger into your wet hole.
“Start pumping… and how ‘bout this time you try to curl your finger upward after you go in, hm?” You try, humming in response to his voice and his hand moving back to your leg, softly rubbing up and down your thigh as he watches you.
He notices your breath hitching. “Good girl,” he coos, “add another.”
You attempt to pump yourself faster now with the two fingers inside of you, looking up at him. Your pussy twitches and you jut upwards at the sight of him licking his lips. “Just pretend it’s me,” he tells you, “And don’t stop. I wouldn’t.”
His hand rests back on your hip, fingers daring to reach your mound as they slide slowly, but he’s hesitating. He wants you to do it all by yourself, but he sees your face, sees what just his voice and his watching does to you. You were always a good listener, a team player, never skipped on doing your part when he asked it of you, but this, this new power he had over you? It was something else. He can’t help but want to see what happens when he gives you just a little more.
His fingers now lightly ghost over your lips and your eyes implore. Your gasp is shaky. You’re almost holding your breath waiting for the full press but… he doesn’t do it yet.
He’s being a fucking tease.
The cockiness is evident in his voice when he asks, “Want me to?”
“Yes,” you moan, loud and instantly. It’s pitiful, you’re a mess and you want him so bad you couldn’t help it, but the beg worked. Right after, he starts rubbing harsh circles into your clit, making you vibrate.
“Oh- ohmygod, Rick.” You try to keep pumping yourself but it becomes hard. You’ve dreamed about his hands, right there on your most intimate parts, making you feel good and showing you how it’s supposed to really feel. And finally. He’s doing it. His rough fingertips felt like heaven.
Your own fingers stutter. His hand and yours are just too much for you, especially because of how deep and fast he’s rubbing against your skin and bone. “Rick, please,” you want him to go lower, take over, and he notices how your fingers slow.
“No,” he warns. “Keep goin’.” His voice is stern, stopping you before you do, he takes your hand and helps you pump your fingers into yourself before letting go. “You’re doing that yourself. Go faster.”
Your cheek falls to the opposite side of the bed, whimpering sadly at his words, but you continue.
“You got it,” he encourages. “Put another finger in.”
“Another?” Your voice incredulous as you ask.
“Gotta train yourself with your fingers before you get mine.” He pauses. “And before you can get up to my dick… How do you think it’s gonna fit if we don’t open you up?”
You let out a moan, it’s the kind that you had only heard on tv in the past. Just the sheer thought of him insinuating that soon he would put himself inside of you sends you spiraling. You add a third finger, it feels tight, but good, especially with him there.
“There you go,” he says, stretching out the syllables. He feels his jeans tighten further as he watches you.
And you only get wetter. The squelching sounds from below are nothing you’ve ever heard from yourself before. Your pussy shakes and sucks your fingers below with Rick rubbing and pinching your clit at the top. You speak between pants, moaning again, “Rick… Rick, its too much.” You’re trying to keep up your pace but you feel your energy withering again. You close your eyes.
“That means you’re making yourself cum soon. Keep going.”
“It hurts, I can’t do it!”
“You can do it,” he nods, “and if you don’t… I’ll just leave you here.”
A quick, “No!” and a string of “mmms” come out as you whine. You don’t want him to go, so you try, you keep up.
Rick lets go of your clit and it makes you gasp sadly at the loss, but he’s pushing up your shirt, exposing your breast. He takes one hand to rub your clit again and another to roll one of your nipples. “This is the only extra help you get,” he tells you. “Now are you going to cum for me?”
You nod, “Yes, yes,” you chant, “I can do it for you, Rick.”
“Show me.”
You continue to pump fast, curling your fingers as he suggested before. You find a spongy part that makes you feel extra tingling in your lower stomach and you keep trying to push up against it with each pump of your fingers. You decide to open your eyes again to watch Rick as his eyes trail between your breasts to below, you choose to focus the way your fingers look as they go in and out of you and how his hand rubs and shakes you at the top. Indescribable noises come out at the sight. “I’m losing it,” you tell him.
“Just keep goin’,” he tells you. “See it through.”
You start panting in between your stringy moans, it’s breathy and hurried and long. You force yourself to not stop. “I’m gonna cum, Rick. I’m gonna make myself cum!”
“I know, sweetheart. I know you can. Be a good girl for me, you got it.”
And then you do. The butterflies spring. You continue to pump as you ride your high and then it’s done. You came.
Rick smiles, licking his fingers filled with your wetness. He stands up, knees making their way between your own that lay on the bed as he starts undoing his belt. As he drops his pants and his boxers you see his cock spring up. It’s glossy at the tip and although you haven’t seen many, you’re completely sure it’s longer than most.
But it gets you scared. There’s worry in your eyes. Your lip quivers despite the drool that comes out on the side. How’s it gonna fit?
“You ready?” He asks.
“But I thought you said your fingers first.”
He kisses your lips, fingers caressing your cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow.”
Then he pushes himself in. Right to the hilt.
He didn’t go slow.
2K notes · View notes
kennedysbaby · 23 days
Text
be my angel.
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wc: 2.3k
pairings: re4r! leon kennedy x fem! reader
synopsis: leon hated coming home late. hell, he hated going on those morbid missions in the first place. he can’t help but feel like a sweet girl like you deserves better than some guy who goes away on missions for long periods of time without even telling you much about them. thankfully, you’re there to tell him just how much this stupid blondie means to you.
warnings: none. slight sexual content but nothing more than making out really.
author's note: inspired by the mazzy star song! the lack of leon kennedy fluff is concerning. also first time posting on tumblr yay.
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55001149
if it weren't for you, leon probably would've lost his mind a long time ago. you were so sweet, so gentle, so understanding—he sometimes questioned if he even deserved someone as unscathed as yourself. it was comforting dating a regular civilian, someone who wasn't exposed to the daily nightmares he faced in his line of work. being so blissfully ignorant to the horrors of the world was a luxury he no longer afforded, never did. 
leon hated the sad look that'd cross your perfect features as he left for one of his gruesome missions, that last goodbye kiss that had him tightly gripping the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, the asphalt crackling beneath the tires. the fact that he couldn't tell you much about said missions, given their classified nature, only made him more upset—it felt like wordlessly forsaking you for one-to-two weeks at a time.
oh, but the sweet expression you'd have on your face as you twisted the metal doorknob, the way it lightened up at the mere sight of him. it had leon's chest tightening and breath hitching, wanting nothing more than to pull you into a long, hard kiss. you had him acting a fool, needless to say. 
tonight was a little different, though. the digital clock on the dashboard read 12:47 am, causing leon to scoff lightly under his breath. he disliked coming home late, knowing most likely that you were probably up, huddled on the couch with thick blankets wrapped around you, wishing it was his arms keeping you warm instead. 
leon's gaze then drifted back up towards the heavy rain thrashing vehemently against the ground, the deafening silence disrupted by the droplets pattering against the window and the swiping of the windshield wipers doing their job, giving him a clear view of the road ahead. he was still a good twenty minutes away from home, and that fact alone makes him press his foot against the gas a little harder, damning any traffic laws at the moment. 
though, crashing the car in an attempt to see you sooner was a bit counterintuitive—and he'd be seeing god, if anyone.
once leon finally pulled up to the quaint little townhouse the two of you owned together, he parked the car, pulling the keys out of the ignition and shoving them into the pocket of his black cargo pants. with a soft sigh, he quietly shut the car door, and walked up the steps to the front door. the rain had calmed down a bit, simply drizzling now. 
knock, knock, knock . his fisted hand gently rapped against the door a few times, but to leon's dismay, he still hadn't heard your footsteps leading up to him. it then hit him that it was one in the morning, and it was more than likely that you'd fallen asleep—possibly from staying up for him. a frown creased onto his lips, upset with himself for coming back so late. even if it wasn't his fault, he still felt guilty. despite how much you reassured him, leon always thought you could a whole lot better than him.
reluctantly, leon pulled his set of house keys out of his pocket, and slid the metal through the lock, opening the door with a click . inside was dark, quiet…yet peaceful. as he padded across the area, the floorboards lightly creaking beneath his feet, he took notice of how clean it was; someone had used their time wisely, he thought with a smile. well, either that, or you had just gotten so bored out of your mind waiting for him. he was well aware of how antsy you'd get on the days you knew he was coming back.
leon was also now aware of how disappointed you probably were now, seeing as he came back far later than anticipated. 
that's when his eyes land upon you, snoring away softly on the sofa, and—just like he imagined—curled up beneath a warm, knitted blanket. the open tv cast a soft glow across the tidy living room, alongside a few warm-scented candles you had lit. that, alongside the rhythmic thrumming of the rain against the windowpane, made for a very cozy atmosphere. leon took careful steps towards the couch, kneeling down in front of you. 
"i'm sorry, angel," leon mumbled, his voice soft as to not wake you up. he brushed a few stray strands of hair behind your ear, the contrasting feeling of his calloused fingers against your soft skin roused you a bit, causing you to stir in place. leon chuckled at your tired grumbles, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead. 
the kiss is what fully wakes you up, instantly jolting upwards, sitting yourself upright. the blanket rustles around you as your sleepy eyes widen, registering the fact that your boyfriend—that you hadn't seen in two weeks—was right in front of you, giving you the softest smile. "leon?" you muttered, still in disbelief.
"go back to sleep baby, we can talk in the morning," he said, peppering gentle kisses across your face. your skin burns beneath his lips, any feelings of exhaustion slowly slipping away. if leon really wanted you to go back to sleep, he damn well knew better than to act all sappy like this.
"no, no, no," you quickly—and incoherently—mumbled, blinking a few times to adjust your eyesight, "it's okay, i'm not sleepy. i was waiting on you anyway," that's when you started to excitedly ramble, "i just…forget about me, what kept you so long?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "something bad happened?"
"nah," leon shook his head, still smiling—god, it felt so good seeing you after so long. "writing up that report took a little longer than anticipated. i'm really sorry, pretty." his smile then shifted into a frown, a soft sigh escaping from the depth of his lungs. "so sorry," he whispered as he kissed your lips for a quick second. 
the look of pure anguish contorted on his sharp features sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. despite how tired you were, seeing leon look so upset over the fact that he couldn't see you sooner made your mind dizzy with love. 
"that's okay. it happens. i understand." you replied honestly. you were aware of leon's job before getting wrapped up in a relationship with him. and you also knew just how much this man loved you, even if he couldn't see how amazing he was. flaws were human, you'd tell him. people tended to forget that—leon might be a zombie-killing machine, but deep down, he was only a man. one with feelings and emotions. 
dating leon made you feel like such a special girl. he was a closed-off, reserved man. just one quick look at him and you could tell that he most definitely could kill a man with his bare hands alone—if he wanted to, that is. he was cold, intimidating, and brutal on the field. but you didn't see that side of him. 
no, you saw a total sweetheart. in your presence, leon was a complete softie. it was actually quite adorable seeing him sleepily pouring himself a cup of coffee at the crack of dawn, dressed only in loose pajama pants, his chiseled abs put on display just for you . his blonde hair framed his face so perfectly, the soft strands falling in front of his face. despite being a total fucking unit, having biceps nearly bigger than your face, he was so gentle with you, treating you as if you were a porcelain doll. 
at least, he tried to be, but sometimes he got a little… carried away .
you were the person who got to see him leaning over the bathroom sink, holding a razor to the lower half of his face, shaving away the light stubble that had formed after neglecting the duty for a few days simply because he got too lazy. you saw him narrowing his eyes at the god awful instruction booklet that came with ikea furniture as he attempted assembling a new bookcase. you loved the way he would sometimes squint while looking at something afar, then claiming he "didn't need glasses" when you pointed it out. 
it was so raw, so real. 
leon just sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, "you do realize you are too sweet for your own good sometimes, right? you should be upset i was late, i promised i'd be home for dinner." he chuckled dryly, climbing onto the sofa and taking a seat right next to you, sitting above the comforter. 
"i dunno what i'd do without you," his gaze was trained on you, admiring how pretty you were in this state—with messy hair, half-lidded eyes, and puffy cheeks. "i love you so much." would it be too awkward to mention that he'd marry you in a heartbeat at this time of night? probably.
you can only laugh in response, trying to downplay how much his words were affecting you. "you're so corny. i love you too, lee." yeah, if he was so corny, then why was your heart beating of your chest?
leon was being dead serious, even if his execution made it seem like he was just playing around. you were his light in the darkness, his sole comfort amidst his disastrous life.
he slid his brown leather jacket off, letting it fall to the ground. your eyes fall to his arms and how yummy they look in his compression shirt. would it be weird to say you just wanted to take a bite out of them sometimes? lovingly, of course. "i missed you," leon mumbled, his own voice taking on a sleepy lilt. 
"me too." you shook your way out from beneath the thick blanket, scooting closer to your precious boyfriend. you cradle his cheeks with your hands, smiling as you stared into his icy blues. his eyes really were to die for, you could just get lost in them sometimes. he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. you go in for a kiss, soft lips meshing with his chapped ones. 
the action elicits a soft, content sigh from leon, his big hands running up and down your back above your thin tank top as the two of you stayed like that for a few moments, lips moving against one another languidly. your chest presses up against his, sending a pleasant rush through leon's veins. when you two pull away for air, a bit breathless and frazzled, you can only marvel at the sight of him before you.
his lips were parted, taking slow and deliberate breaths, his pale cheeks now a little rosy, and his tired eyes now glazed with lust, drunk on your lips alone. you chuckle softly, your hands still cradling his cheeks as you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. he kisses the tip of it, allowing you to slid it between his lips for a split second. it's so awfully intimate, causing waves of satisfaction to wash over leon. 
that's when you plunge right back in, this time your tongue slipping past his lips, interlocking with his. he moans so softly, his hands roughly gripping your hips, drawing out a sigh of your own. leon mutters hoarsely, "you're too good for me, sweetheart. way too good. what did i do to deserve you?" he's still so in disbelief that a precious thing like yourself is all his .
this causes you to part again, a slight look of confusion crossing your features. "are you serious, leon? what didn't you do?" you shake your head, sighing. "you're way too hard on yourself, baby. i swear, i've never had a man that's as perfect as you before, regardless of what you might think. you deserve this. you deserve everything after what you've been through." 
you loop your arms around him tightly, hugging him as your bury your face in his chest. your thumb traces little circles on his back, as you whisper, "don't ever think you aren't enough." that was a little something you'd picked up on in the three years you'd been dating leon. he was very unsure of himself. he didn't deem himself worthy of love, no less the amount you poured out for him.
"i love you, in all your blonde glory," you chuckled, not wanting to sound too deep, even if your words carried an incredibly heavy weight.
leon couldn't help but feel a swell of emotions all at once, instinctively holding you even tighter, pulling you close and never wanting to let go of you. not even for a single second. "you're so corny," he mocked, letting out a light laugh as he pressed a kiss on top of your head. god, you fit him just like a puzzle piece.
"it's all your fault, asshole. you started it." you grin, lifting your head up from his chest, and leaning into kiss his perfect lips again. 
"hmm," leon mumbled, a low chuckle erupting from his throat, "guess that's too bad, then." 
finally, after kissing him for a good several minutes, taking labored breaths through your nose, you pulled apart, a thin trail of your mixed saliva following suit, now dripping down your chin. you chuckled, wiping it away with the back of your hand. your hips shift a bit suggestively as you climb off of his lap, causing leon to inhale sharply. 
"you need a shower. i'm going to bed." is what you say with a snicker as you turn on your heel, padding across the wooden floors to your shared bedroom. leon just scoffs, and shakes his head, watching as you stumble away from him.
"that's not fair." he grumbled to himself, his hands falling to his thighs.
he did tell you to go back to sleep earlier, though. damn it. 
716 notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 23 days
Note
hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3
spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH
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SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]
1. “You’re bleeding.”
2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”
1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”
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WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3
spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!
a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ event masterlist!!
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Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.
If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.
Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.
It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.
He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.
Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.
How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?
They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.
All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.
You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.
You weren’t that lucky.
You never were.
“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.
Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.
You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.
The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.
Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.
At least you were okay.
“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.
It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.
It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.
“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”
The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.
You looked bad.
Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.
“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.
“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.
“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.
“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.
“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.
“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”
Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.
“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.
“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.
“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”
“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”
“But…”
“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”
He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”
“Just keep your eyes open okay?”
You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.
“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.
“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.
“But you are though,”
“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”
“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”
“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”
And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.
You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.
At least he stays by your side the entire time.
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baeshijima · 1 year
Text
— one more time
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jing yuan has always considered himself to be a patient man, never failing to have a plan in mind and out of sight for unforeseeable circumstances. when it comes to matters involving you, however, he finds that he never has the time to think; not when he acts quicker than he can process.
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1k wc, fluff, kissing, very much pining jing yuan
A/N : holds this man gently as i stare at him doing his idles with big wide eyes and tears rolling down my cheeks (also yes this is me using the "idk how to kiss" "then i will teach u" trope as an excuse to write a kissing jing yuan fic bc i am delusional and proud🐥)
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when jing yuan was reciting his usual pep-talk as he made his way to your decided meet-up spot (which included, but was not limited to: stay calm, cool, and composed— the triple-c, if you will — and don't make a fool of yourself, jing yuan), he figured the cosy picnic (date) arrangement would go smoothly and without a hitch. you would be there bathed in the artificial sunlight, fingers threading through blades of grass and then you would turn at the rhythm of his footsteps, that signature grin of yours on full display as he would attempt to calm his thunderous heart from spilling saccharine confessions accumulated over the last few centuries.
like always.
but very much unlike now, it seems.
in place of the predicted events he'd conjured up beforehand, the words “i don't know how to kiss” welcome him instead. (he just barely catches himself before the picnic basket in his grip goes tumbling across the grass.)
“...what?”
“right?” you huff, seated on the grass with your arms supporting your weight while bathed in the artificial sunlight of the luofu. “i've lived for this long, and yet i have never kissed anyone! wait, or maybe it's because no one wants to kiss me... am i that unkissable?”
“no!” is the immediate rebuttal which springs forth to the tip of his tongue, but he just barely catches himself. he's planned thousands, probably millions, of ways in which he could confess to you, but the timing has never been quite right. that, or the times where he was about to confess were interrupted; sometimes by some last minute calls, other times where he just misses the timing, but usually by yanqing unceremoniously barging in between you.
this time isn't any different either, because it is simply not quite right. there's something — something imperceptible yet obvious in the back of his mind, giving him the go-ahead on the perfect time to bleed nothing but the pure, unadulterated adoration you've inflicted upon him.
this time isn't any different either, but his mind goes blank, a clarity he has never felt before driving his senses.
“i'll teach you.”
it's a sudden offer, one he doesn't really know where he got the confidence to offer it from, and yet something about your stunned expression and his unusually calm heart seems... right.
“...you know how to kiss?”
“i know more than you do,” he counters. a triumphant grin tugs the corners of his lips when your mouth instantly clams shut at his words.
he waits for your response with baited breath. will you agree? will you refuse his, painfully obvious, advance? oh god what should he do if you say no? play it off as a joke? tease you for considering it? walk away in shame and cry about it—?
“alright then,” you say, and he blinks once, twice. “it's not like i have anything to lose.”
...is this a dream?
apparently not, as he now finds himself seated in front of you with the artificial sunlight doing little to help fend off the heat blooming along his skin. your eyes are closed with your body leaning towards him in baited anticipation, but his gaze hones in on the clench-unclench of your fists and your stiff posture.
unable to contain himself, he chuckles, “someone's a little tense.”
“ugh, cut me some slack! you're my first, so of course i'm nervous.”
your first. he's your first. yours. he's yours.
it's almost like a mantra the way he repeats your words (as well as varying renditions of them), one which does little to keep his waning self-restraint intact.
with a sharp inhale, he cradles your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head slightly to align better with his. if this were him any other day, he would have merely brushed this moment off as another one of his fantasies; an untouchable perception of what he wishes could be his.
this is not any other day, however, as jing yuan is hyper-aware of your light breaths fanning against his lips, the faint brush of his nose against yours, and your familiar scent which curls into him.
you, you, you. you are all he feels, all he can think of, even more so when he finally pushes forward into your awaiting silence and slots his lips against yours. it's a perfect fit, he thinks in what little room he allows for thought when preoccupied with your overflowing warmth and the taste of you on his tongue and the sheer euphoria which bubbles up when you hold onto him in response to his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks and holding you close.
he wonders if you can feel his centuries' worth of repressed affection from this exchange — if you can feel the desperation coursing through his veins as he leans into your touch. he already knows it's impossible though, for his love runs far too deep to be conveyed in just one singular moment.
“did you get that?” there's an ache in his heart when you part for air, but it's quickly forgotten when you blindly chase after him.
“one more time,” you whisper against his lips, his heart surging up his throat at your half-dazed eyes and tightening grip on his clothes. “i think you need to show me one more time.”
his waning self-restraint snaps.
“look at me,” he whispers back, voice hoarse with pent-up desire. his hands tilt your head up, guiding your gaze to align with his once more. before you can let a word slip through it's smothered, his lips crashing onto yours in an instant as he finds himself more determined than ever to leave you breathless with his adoration and have you focus solely on him.
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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lolabangtan · 1 year
Text
sideshow | jjk
You’re a successful cam girl in need of a hot guy with a big cock, and you think you’ve found your match.
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Word count: 9k
Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy.
# cam girl!reader, coffee shop AU, mutual pining, hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), squirting, face sitting, restraints, unprotected sex, face-fucking, dacryphilia, overstimulation and post-orgasm torture, teasing/degradation, cream pie, cum play, recording kink, dub-con role play, they’re so cute *sobs*
A/N: let’s not ask about this and enjoy it without wondering where the inspiration came from.
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You’re always staring at him. When you’re in line waiting for your order, chatting with someone else when he’s nearby, or even when you secretly spot him working as you pass by the window – you’re always staring at Jeon Jungkook.
Your friends mock you for it whenever they get the chance. It’s almost as if you, the sexy, mysterious girl who records herself for a living, having such a silly, wholesome crush on someone was the most amusing thing they’ve ever heard. But a guy like him, so kind and hot and funny, is worth it, and you won’t deny it.
But being honest, they’re right by showing their surprise. You just don’t come off as the kind of girl who’d fall for a guy like him.
Apart from being kind, hot, and funny, Jeon Jungkook is also extremely popular while still being down to earth. An endangered specimen – if there’s ever been one before. He’s got his tattoos, and his adorable dog, and his decent schoolwork managing skills, and his outstanding talent at any sport to ever exist. And in the meantime, you sometimes catch him staring back, so your mind has to work twice as much to fish for an excuse. You just think it’ll be better in the long run.
Because honestly, people always talk. They point at you, make comments, or ask creepy questions. Surely Jeon Jungkook, with his brilliant future, doesn’t want that just because his cock might get hard with one of your videos.
In a way – a stupid, pointless way – you’re always staring at each other.
“You could try and talk to him one day, you know. Maybe then you’ll see there’s literally not a single thought behind those silly doe eyes.”
You can’t help laughing at Seokjin’s words, almost choking on your coffee. “Isn’t that a bit mean? I thought you liked him.”
“And I do!”
“Hm, look at the time.” You check your phone before putting it back into your purse. “I’d better hurry if I don’t wanna keep my sister waiting. We’ll talk later, okay? And I will not approach him just because. I really don’t need any gossip about me.”
Well, you’re just stressed. You need some money for your Spring break trip to the beach, but you aren’t exactly thrifty. Actually, you’re quite the opposite.
So, you’ve come up with an idea: charging for requests and uploading them to your website. The answer from your subscribers was immediate and increasingly positive, with only one problem.
The most voted idea was a POV, which sadly required another person to join you. Someone with a big, nice cock if it’s possible. You’d ask Seokjin, but he’d never let his almost little sister-like friend suck his cock and give him four orgasms in a row. And it’s not something you’d do either in a world where you weren’t desperate.
You’re not going to lie, there’s only one person you’d want to do that video with – and he’s walking out into the backbar right now.
The two of you stop at the same time as you walk past each other. Not noticing his presence next to you, you keep looking at the poster with the newest sweet additions to the menu and sigh with satisfaction at the fact that you’ll be able to keep enjoying your good old butter croissants.
Then you turn around.
“Oh, shit— sorry! God, I���m so clumsy! Let me help you.”
You squat down to pick up the broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor. When you look up, you’re met with the sight of a staring Jeon Jungkook bent in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to repeat.
His lips twitch as if he wanted to say something, but the man keeps quiet as you hand him back his stuff. You can’t help looking down at his muscular arms, covered in black ink. Although Jungkook remains impassive and cool, here you are, practically malfunctioning – while he’s probably wondering why the cam girl hasn’t left yet.
“Just— be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”
He does look like a bunny, now that you think of it. A really hot bunny.
Fucking shit, you can’t help it, can you? To stare, to drool, to picture your hands stroking down his chest, kneading the flesh. You love ripped guys, especially when it doesn’t get over their heads. You’d eat him up in a second, pinky promise.
“Sorry,” you say again, standing up. “I wasn’t looking.”
“Y/N! Are you okay?”
Namjoon rushes up to you, breaking the strange silence between you and Jungkook. He sees the mess and starts to pick up the broken pieces, asking you to step back just in case. With a nod, the youngest offers to go and fetch a broom, and Namjoon thanks him.
Your friend lets out a laugh. “Only with my homeboy, huh?”
“Hm?”
“You only get like this with Jungkookie,” he explains. “The rest of the time, you’re a merciless succubus.”
“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you,” you groan.
Namjoon starts wiping the floor, and you help him by picking up the plastic bag.
“Do you think he likes you back?”
You shrug. “I guess he might be attracted to me, but I don’t think he likes me... in that sense. I don’t care, though – it’s not like we’re a match or something. I’m probably just attracted too.”
Jungkook comes back with the broom and cleans the floor while you look around in a poor attempt to avoid his eyes. You don’t notice the way he looks at you, nor the pent-up frustration with which he grips the stick of the broom, his lips twitching again.
“Well, I, uh— I’ll leave you to it. And sorry again, I wasn’t looking.”
With that, you rush out of the coffee shop and run down the street until you reach the number you were looking for. Taking out your keys, you open the door and walk in, going directly to the second floor.
When you get into the flat, the storm unleashes:
“God, I was so worried! You should’ve told me you’d be running late.”
Like always, visiting your older sister comes with a nagging and a steamy cup of coffee. You’re enjoying both of them sitting in her kitchen.
“You’re exaggerating,” you groan.
“Yeah, sure, it’s not like any of your creepy fans could ever doxx you or something and kidnap you.” With a raised eyebrow, you stare at her over the mug. “Hm, okay, just build the habit of telling me if you’re gonna be late, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So” – she turns around with a grin and leaves her mug in front of you – “who is this Jungkook guy and why haven’t you asked him out already?”
Your face turns a bright red. “How do you know about—? Fucking Jin...”
“Come on, you’re usually bolder. You really like him, don’t you?” At your shrugging, your sister chuckles. “You’re entitled to like people, you know that, right? And hit on them, and ask them out. Just because you had a few bad experiences—”
“It’s just not gonna happen,” you blurt out. “You know why? First, because he’s not remotely interested in me. And second, because I know, I just know how this is going to end if I do,” you continue, your face growing warmer. “And I don’t care about all the nice guys out there because, in the end, they’re all the same; dicks with an excuse of a brain.”
“You want to have sex with him, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah?”
She laughs again. “Then try the opposite! You think he’d only be interested in the shagging? Go shag. And then see if he stays.”
You bury your face in the palms of your hands, thankful for the chilly contact. The skin cools down, and a sigh escapes from your lips.
“What if he says no?”
“Then he doesn’t want to fuck. That’s uncommon for a man so, one point for him.”
Ah, yes, your sister and her logic; it’s utterly stupid and yet, you always fail to rebuke her absurd reasoning. It’s almost a talent, you think. Maybe that’s why she’s a lawyer.
“Well, I do have a plan,” you murmur.
Her eyes brighten immediately. “Then go for it, tiger! He’s super cute, and super hot! Better get your heart broken by a ten if all men suck.”
The coffee shop is almost closing when you arrive; you had asked Namjoon who was closing tonight so, when you heard it’d be him, you rushed out of your sister’s place to get there in time. This is a one-time chance.
You spot him behind the window, wiping a cup.
There’s a sigh coming out from his mouth when the door jingles open. The common frustration of having a last-minute customer.
“Hey.”
“Ah— it’s you,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, and you frown. “I-I mean, I thought you were some annoying random, sorry… I don’t mind making you a coffee.”
Oh, that was nice. Very nice.
You quietly take a seat at the counter. “Thanks.”
“Uh, so…” You’re lucky Jungkook isn’t facing you, turned from you instead as he turns on the coffee machine. Otherwise, he’d notice your red face and the eagerness with which you listen to him as he stutters, “I-it’s pretty late— for a coffee. Do you have to stay up late tonight?”
“Not exactly.”
Finally, Jungkook turns around and hands you the coffee, looking pretty much puzzled.
“I was wondering if you’d like to work with me,” you finally let out, and your chest feels weightless for a second— until you come back to earth and realise that you’ll have to hear an answer.
He’s looking at you in complete silence.
Maybe he really doesn’t know that you’re a cam girl? Maybe he’s just thinking about what your job could be and how could the two of you possibly work together. Or maybe he’s just zooming out, who knows? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Do you want me to, uh, e-edit a—?” Jungkook gets cut off by his own coughing as his cheeks turn red. “Sorry, edit a video... for you?”
Ah.
Of course he knows.
He knows, so there’s a chance he might have watched one of them. Maybe all of them. Perhaps Namjoon told him about it, or perhaps he thought you looked familiar and asked him. In his mind – and that’s what makes it awkward, and not the fact that he’s probably watched you naked or touching yourself – he knows what you work for, and every single interaction is stained with that.
“Uh— not... Not really.” You don’t notice, but Jungkook holds his breath, and his heart starts beating faster. “It was more along the lines of making one together.”
Your heart is beating fast too.
“Me?”
Well,  I’ve been told that you’ve got a big cock, oh, and because I have a crush on you.
You shrug. “Thought you could use the money, and you do have a nice body— your face wouldn’t show, though.”
“I, uh...”
“Just asking if you were down!” you blurt out then, stepping back. “Of course, it’s up to you. I understand if you’re not comfortable with us, uh, having—”
“I-I get you,” he laughs. Now his face is as red as a strawberry.
In silence, you stand there, waiting for an answer. However, it seems like neither of you is functioning properly at the time, so you clear your throat with your heart clenching painfully in your chest and let out a shaky laugh:
“Of course, it’s too weird, so, uh— forget I said anything. Thank you for considering it, have a nice day!”
You rush out of the café, but his voice stops you:
“Wait!”
You turn around and look at him; he looks positively embarrassed, even more than you, although it’s understandable – probably due to the circumstances – so, you wait, breath hitching, for him to continue.
Jungkook looks away. “I— I didn’t say no.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” you rush to clarify. “That’s my number.” You hand him a business card, which he seems too afraid to check. “Call me… if you’re interested. I’ll leave now, thank you for your time. And— uh, nothing. Bye.”
“Bye…”
By the time you leave the coffee shop, your heart is beating so hard that you think it could be a stroke. Your cheeks are boiling hot, and you struggle to walk down to the bus stop while your legs wiggle. You did it, it’d done – you’ve already asked Jeon Jungkook to film an erotic video with you for your page.
You don’t get any signs of life from Jungkook until two days later, at two in the morning.
Namjoon told you that they had met some friends for a drink after closing time, so you’re not surprised that he’s up so late. He also tends to go to bed late when he stays up playing console games.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: Hello, Y/N.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: It’s Jungkook.
[Saturday, 2:18 AM] Unknown: I have been thinking about it and, if the offer still stands, I accept.
Your heart immediately somersaults the glowing letters on your screen. Reality fell on your shoulders, and you finally understood that you would be filming that video with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you could ask him out on a date later, but it’d be tomorrow’s you’s nuisance to worry about rejection. For the time being, you’re going to get on with the script so that you can send it to him as soon as possible.
[Saturday, 5:43 AM] You: Cool, I’ve attached the script. Just let me know if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with or want to change. When are you free?
[Saturday, 5:44 AM] You: Of course, we’ll go through your limits before filming.
Jungkook’s reply doesn’t arrive in time for you to read it; as soon as you’re done with it, you plummet into your bed and fall asleep, totally exhausted.
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: Looking forward to it!
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: I mean
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
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The bell goes through your head like a nail. Your mouth is dry and your body trembles, but you get up to open the door in the hope that it’s not Jungkook behind it.
After you had sent him the script, it took him a while to answer. Then, after three hours, he only answered ‘okay’ and asked you when you would be meeting. You agreed on the day and time, and here you are, turning the doorknob with your heart beating through your chest.
“Hi, come in.”
You step aside, and Jungkook walks into your small flat; it’s cute and cosy, with the golden light coming in through the windows. His black clothes soak in it as you watch him get comfortable and, for a second, it feels like he’s coming over for a date, just to hang out. It feels nice, that small, minute, short second.
“Want anything to drink?”
“Yes—” Jungkook clears his throat. “Yes, please. Water’s good.”
You come back with two glasses of water and sit in front of him on the couch, determined to calm down your nerves.
“Okay, so, I understand that you read the script, right?” you ask, and he nods instantly, perhaps too quickly. “Uh, so… is there anything you’d like to change? Anything you don’t feel comfortable with?”
Jungkook glances at you only to look away in the blink of an eye. He’s biting his lip again.
“No, hm, everything sounds good so far. I mean— t-there’s nothing I don’t like, like… there’s nothing that turns me… off.” He eventually gets discouraged to keep talking and gulps down the glass of water in front of him. “Sounds good, you know, with the angle you suggested.”
“Nothing at all? Are you sure? I wrote a lot of things.”
He keeps avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, I’m cool with it… And I brought the test results.”
“Good,” you murmur and take the papers as he hands them out to check them. “All clean, that’s good. I’ve got mine too, and I’m on birth control, obviously.”
“Cool.”
“I liked your suggestions for the plot, by the way.” Maybe it’s better to give Jungkook some praise for his effort, that way he will relax a little around you. “A bit wicked— but in a good way. Did you get it from a movie?”
He turns red in a second, and you have to press your thighs together. “N-no, I— it just came to my mind. I can add the effects later.”
You nod slowly and clear your throat.
Once the both of you have gone through every single detail of the script, you’re half turned on, half mortified. It’s almost as if your brain hasn’t fully processed that you will be doing all of this with Jungkook in an hour, or maybe even earlier.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t come off shaky. “And, well, we can stop at any moment, okay? We’ll just stop everything, no hard feelings.”
“Thank you…”
You give him a robe and show him the bathroom, where he gets changed and washes up only to return to your bedroom; that’s where you record everything, but there is a tarpaulin covering the whole wall, including the window. This way, and with a VPN, you make sure you keep your affairs decently hidden.
You’re also wearing a robe when Jungkook walks in, revealing the sight of your cleavage.
You walk up to him. “All good?” you ask. “Do you want anything? A glass of water? Viagra, or an energy bar?”
Jungkook stares at you, a bit surprised, or taken aback by the joke. You turn around in shame, with an apology on your lips, before you notice the way his cheeks turn red and an amused smile creeps to his own.
“A glass of water’d be great, thanks.”
When you return from the kitchen, you’re also bringing along a bunch of papers. “Here are the test results, I’m all clean. Thank you” – Jungkook hands you his own results, and you skim-read them – “I’m also on birth control, in case I didn’t tell you already, so feel free to, uh…”
“O-okay, gotcha.”
Luckily, he doesn’t make any faces as you shut up, discouraged; why are you acting like an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing? He’s probably regretting it already.
You have prepared the props for filming in your room; your bed, which you insisted on buying with a bar headboard, is already set with the ropes, so all that remains is to tie the victim with them. You’ve done the same with the foot of the bed, as well as the POV camera that’s fitted just above his head. He’s wearing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and you’ve put on a shirt that shows your nipples through and a pair of panties that are a bit too small so that your folds are marked.
What can you say: you consider yourself a meticulous creator.
“Okay, so I think everything’s ready. You can lie down now; I’ll take care of the rest.”
When Jungkook is finally lying on the bed, you straddle him to fasten the ties around his wrists and ankles.
It’s weird to feel his warm body beneath you after pining for him for so long; you can feel his thighs tensing and flexing under your ass, how he shifts on the mattress, looking down at your hands and how they skilfully tie him to the bed headboard. His eyes burn wherever they land, you fear you might be getting a bit of stage fright.
“How are you doing?” Jungkook murmurs a ‘good’, looking up at you. “Cool… Then we can get down to business.”
Holding your breath, you lean into him to turn on the camera and, as soon as the red light appears, you realise you’ve been holding it for too long and let out a deep sigh. Time to get into character. Don’t think about it, Y/N.
You look down at him; Jungkook stares back, waiting for you to get on with the script.
Faking a wicked smile, you bend over him and dive on his neck for a kiss, being as loud as possible, slurping and groaning. He shivers beneath you, and you feel yourself already getting turned on just by having him at your mercy like this. After all, this is supposed to be erotic.
Suddenly, Jungkook fixes your knee on his crotch and moves it a bit to the left, taking you by surprise.
“Are you awake, sweetheart?” you ask, pretending you aren’t surprised.
As you wait for a response, you bend down to leave a trail of pecks down his jaw and neck, peppering kisses on his shoulder now, as Jungkook stirs beneath you again.
“Uh… w-where am I?” he asks as he stares down at you with a pitiful frown. “Who are you?”
You let out a giggle. “I was hoping you’d recognise me, but I guess I need to be humbled… I’m the girl of your wet dreams, baby.”
“I-I don’t know what—”
You attack his lips this time, delving for a deep kiss. Jungkook eventually closes his eyes and gives in to your kiss, uttering a meek whimper against your lips and pulling at the ropes to no avail. When you move away, you sit on his crotch, happily surprised.
“Oh, what do we have here? Someone’s waking up, look.”
Before he can say anything, you pinch his tip over his trousers. He twitches again, leaking precum, as you can tell from the way a wet patch appears in the fabric.
“I’m sure it’s small, so tiny I wouldn’t even feel it,” you snicker, “but I’ll use it anyway, maybe as a plug for my butt.”
Jungkook whines, feeling himself getting even harder. “I-it’s not small—”
Honestly, when you dropped by the coffee shop and asked him to work with you on a video, he couldn’t believe it. It had always remained a fantasy, and he feared for a second that someone had ratted him out about his crush on you. ‘Someone’ as in ‘Kim Namjoon’, of course.
Jungkook has spent many hours thinking of different ways to ask you out on a date. Ever since he met you, he’s grown obsessed with you and your personality, charm, beauty, and confidence. When he started to notice you getting shy around him, a small flame of hope lit up inside of him, but why would you be into a guy like him? Yes, he isn’t bad looking, but surely, you’d be more into big, strong, sexual guys, wouldn’t you? Real men who had lots of experience in bed.
On the other hand, Jungkook becomes such a mess every time he’s around you; he drops things, he’s unable to form a coherent sentence, and you never seem to be too interested in talking to him for more than five seconds.
Now, is Jungkook in love with you? Before, he would have denied it, that this was just another crush. But now that he’s so close to you, that he can feel the sweat on your skin, that he’s one with you, he has to ask you out. Otherwise, he’ll never be happy again.
Especially now that the feeling of you straddling his lap and playing with his cock is ingrained in his memory.
“Let me go,” he barks, suddenly remembering that he has a script to follow. “I— I won’t tell anyone if you let me go now.”
You lean into him and stroke his cheek. “Why would I?”
Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you silence any possible reply from him and kiss him hard against the mattress. Your ass ruts against his cock mercilessly, almost by instinct, eager to feel his whines die in your mouth.
Your hands find their way beneath his shirt. With eager fingers, you brush his nipples and, hearing him whimper, keep pinching them as he stirs, fleeing your touch but at the same time seeking it. You chuckle and tease him for it, and Jungkook can only close his eyes with the genuine wish that he won’t come too soon, or at least before you get the footage you want.
You keep humping his clothed cock, now visibly hard and standing proudly against the fabric of his sweats. Between kisses, you tell him how well he’s doing.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” you suddenly say.
Jungkook struggles to peel his eyes open. “W-what deal?”
“If you manage not to cum before me, I’ll let you go,” you continue. “You will be totally free.”
“And— if I do?”
Shit, you forgot about this part. What happened if he came…? You can think of the paragraph and the page, but you really can’t remember the rest of the lines, shit. You totally suck at this—
“I’ll milk your cock dry until you beg me to stop – and only then will I think about it.”
Jungkook stares at you in shock, and for a second, you fear that your impromptu response has gone too far. But then you feel something hard rubbing against your pussy, and you realise that he is unconsciously humping you, twitching and getting bigger and harder.
“You’re fucking nuts,” he cries out.
But you only giggle in response, shoving your hips together as if you were actually riding him. You let out a loud moan, too exaggerated to be true. The constant pressure of your pussy against his crotch makes him arch his back, desperately trying to hold his own whines and grunts to save you the satisfaction of proving you right.
“Look at you! You poor thing,” you exclaim in laughter. “I’m gonna fuck your virgin cock until you pass out.”
Jungkook goes still.
“Oh, thought I didn’t know?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.
“I—”
You bend down and bite on his neck only to soothe the sting with your tongue. “You thought I didn’t know you’ve never been touched before? You’re popular, but women terrify you, don’t they? You see them and only notice their hard nipples through their shirts and their tight pussies peeking from under their short skirts, and that makes you nervous; if they’re nice to you, you’re not interested. If they’re mean, you spend all day imagining them spanking you or sitting on your face… Don’t lie, you’re a sicko who wants a woman to spit in your mouth and fuck your cute little cock. Do you call them mommy in your fantasies? A mean mommy with a fat ass to hump your pathetic dick and huge tits to suck on.”
“S-shut up,” Jungkook cries out. “Shut up, shut up— you have no fucking idea, y-you don’t know shit—”
“I’d show you my tits and you’d come on the spot,” you laugh.
“S-stop lying!”
“Jesus, you’re gonna burst your pants from how hard you’ve got, sweetheart. And I’m nuts? At least I’m not getting hard just because a girl is making fun of me.”
You start bouncing on his crotch, laughing. The constant pressure of your ass against his cock makes him squirm, spilling out an amusing mixture of insults and plaids for mercy. His cheeks are warm with a blush of embarrassment and arousal.
“No wonder no one has ever touched this cute little cock!” you chirp, finally shoving your hand into his pants. “I bet you spend all day locked in your room, watching porn or hentai or whatever losers like you are into. Fucking into your own hand like a bitch in heat. Thank goodness you live alone, because you would live in constant fear of your mom finding your dirty comics or the huge amount of dry jizz all over your plushies and pillows.”
“I— I always clean up after myself,” he whimpers in the sweetest voice possible, and you wonder if he’s actually being honest.
Time to find out. “Yeah? You don’t fuck into your pillow thinking it’s your crush’s wet pussy and leave it full of your cum with the pathetic feeling that you’re filling her up?” you grunt, getting riled up. The thought of Jungkook wanting to do it to someone else makes your blood boil.
“Y-yes!” Jungkook finally cries out. “Shit, shit— I always fuck my pillow thinking it’s you!”
The woman was too stunned to speak.
“Fuck, it— it always leaks out, I’ve always got so much cum saved up for— for you, mommy. I imagine it’s your pussy I’m filling up, want to milk my cock into your cunt until you’re happy.”
The ache between your legs worsens, and you have to rub your thighs together to ease the pent-up arousal; you’re dripping, could simply sit on his pretty cock and ride him until he’s a crying mess – but this has got way out of hand, you need to get the video back on track.
And you shouldn’t think about why he immediately thought of you when you brought up his crush.
You lean on him and spit on his lips, making him yelp. “Yuck.”
“M-mommy, please—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Raising your hips off him, you take off your panties; indeed, they are ruined and soaked with your juices. Their only use is to gag Jungkook, and there they go, straight into his mouth.
He has to close his eyes when the scent of your arousal reaches his nose.
It takes him a couple of seconds to process that you’re naked now, at least from the waist down. Only your breasts are covered behind the thin white fabric of your tank top. It’s too small, so the sides of your tits stick out, and the neckline is too wide and barely covers your nipples.
Now, his eyes wander down to your pussy; glistening and dripping wet, Jungkook notices the way you rub your thighs together from time to time.
Kneeling over him, you sit on his chest and lift up your shirt, trying not to care that you’re leaving a trail of your juices across his skin. You’re right on top of the camera, and it really looks like Jungkook’s point of view. So, you grab his head and push it between your tits.
“Slow, dummy babies don’t get to suck on mommy’s boobs, darling. Hurry up.”
His eyes locked with yours, Jungkook opens his mouth to suck on your left nipple as you cradle his head. The contact sends shivers down your spine. Still bound to the bed, he struggles to turn his head and reach closer, eager to flicker his tongue around your sensitive nub.
“That’s it, baby, so good,” you groan.
He shifts to your other breast, and you allow him, too hooked on the pleasure to question his intentions.
Jungkook flicks his tongue with eagerness, hunger, almost desperation. His hips buck into the air, and his restrained cock keeps leaking precum, a wet patch appearing on the fabric. He sucks on your nipple like his life depends on it, unhinging his jaw to reach what he can’t touch.
Shit.
You’ve gone off script enough as it is.
You push him away, and he whimpers. “Well done, sweetheart,” you groan, “but mommy has other plans for you.”
Taking off your shirt, you’re now fully naked on top of him. Jungkook’s eyes roam around your figure and drink it up the sight of your bare body on top of him like it is water and he’s dying of thirst.
It’s time for the good shots, so you turn around so that your dripping folds are right in front of the camara – and right on top of his face, but that’s just a little gift for you. You’re facing his crotch, and with eager hands, you pull down his pants and underwear at the same time, letting his big, red, leaking cock spring up against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and your mouth waters just at the thought.
Meanwhile, Jungkook has been struggling with the tempting sigh of your pussy right above his head. It tickles his tongue, makes his lips twitch; he can only think about ravishing your cunt like a madman.
It’s practically instinctive when his neck is stretched upwards. You said you were okay with oral. In fact, you enjoyed it. The script is just something to guide you as to the plot; the rest, it can go as it comes up. That torture you promised him wasn’t scripted either, but it’s made his cock hard as if he was in heat. And, if you don’t like it, you can use the safeword too.
Just a bit more while you keep playing with his cock in your hands.
His tongue is already out, like a dog. That’s pretty much what he feels like right now, desperate to fuck your pussy with his mouth.
Shit, you’re dripping.
“I wonder if you can get even harder,” he hears you ramble.
As you get comfortable on top of him, your hips are getting closer to his reach. Your ankles rest under his forearms, you didn’t notice he could lick you for at least a few seconds.
Jungkook doesn’t stop to think and delves his tongue into your pussy, proceeding quickly to suck and lap at your clit. Your juices soak his face, but that only makes his erection grow. Your clit reacts instantly, throbbing between his lips.
“What the— s-shit, Jungkook, what are you—” you manage to moan.
Your first instinct is to push your legs away, but Jungkook is pressing down with his forearms and, by the time you think of moving your hips away, you’re already melting with pleasure. His tongue is quick to lick your clit over and over, relentlessly, as you thrust back. Using his forearms again, he pulls you by your legs so that you’re practically sitting on his face, bent over him, grunting his name.
Saliva runs down his chin. Your taste on his tongue has shoved him into a thoughtless state, he’s only thinking about making you come. His tongue parts your lips and fucks into your entrance with wet, sloppy strokes.
Jungkook lets out a whimper. “Fuck, as good as I thought it’d be,” he cries out, his voice muffled by your folds. “Mummy got dripping just from playing with me, so fucking m-mean—”
You arch your back and thrust back against his tongue, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach.
He’s got your ankles well locked, and you’re still torn between control and pleasure, so you simply squirm on top of him while Jungkook keeps ravishing your pussy now that you can’t close your legs – nor do you really want to.
But shit, he’s going to make you come if he keeps this up. And, if you do, the deal is off, and the video is over. You’d love to squirt all over his face and force him to drink it up, but you’ve got other plans for him and for you so, as much as you’re loving getting tongue-fucked by this bratty little shit, it’s time to stop him.
“My baby really wanted to lick mummy’s pussy, didn’t he?” you blurt out with a laugh, and his cock twitches, a drop of precum rolling down from his tip.
“W-what?”
“How was your first cunt, sweetheart?” you continue. “Better than your hand, huh? Better than the sad, pathetic hole you make in your stuffed animals to stick your dick in and think it’s me.”
A tear of embarrassment rolls down his cheek. “T-that’s not—”
“Let me return the favour.”
While Jungkook, in a desperate attempt to make you cum, keeps licking and sucking your pussy, you keep yourself decently composed and let a trickle of saliva drip onto his tip. Before he can say anything else, you’re engulfing his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.
“F-fuck!”
You try to fight a wicked smile with his cock around your lips.
Jungkook’s hips twitch, but that only makes the tip of his cock bump into your throat, ripping a sob from him.
You start bobbing your head up and down; he pulls at his restraints, his head turning to his sides as two thick tears of pleasure roll down his cheeks. Guess this probably is his first time being deep-throated, so better ruin it for everybody coming after.
Fortunately, his bratty tongue is too busy crying and moaning to pay any attention to your pussy, so you sit on his chest and get momentum.
His cock feels hot in your mouth, leaking precum. It’s salty as it mixes with your own saliva running down his shaft. Jungkook is sweating all over, his head spinning like he’s having a fever; after all, the wet heat of your mouth around his cock is too much to handle. It’s coated in your spit, sending waves of pleasure down his spine, making his toes curl, his throat sore from grunting and sobbing. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, the vibrations of your moans only worsening the pleasure pooling in his lower back.
“Fuck!” he cries out again. “Of fuck, p-please—!” Jungkook can’t even properly thrash with his feet as they’re tied to the bed as well. “So good, so fucking good!”
You pull the foreskin back to expose the head and dip your tongue into the slit, savouring the taste of his arousal. For a second, you wonder if he’s never really got proper head or if he’s just very sensitive, but you shove the thought to the back of your head and keep going.
“Got anything to say about that misbehaviour from earlier?” you ask, licking down to the base.
“Dunno—”
“Ah, yes, you do.” Your voice comes out soft, too soft. It sends chills down his back. “You grabbed mommy’s ass and ate her pussy without permission, remember?”
Leaning on his thighs, you manage to turn around to face him. You notice his red face and dilated pupils, and he notices your slick, swollen lips.
To your surprise, Jungkook smirks. “But mommy loved it, didn’t she? I almost made her cum—”
You shut him up by swallowing down his cock again, even if he is right; only a couple of minutes more and you would have come all over his face. But you haven’t, and that’s all that matters. Now you have to make him cum so that you can start torturing his spent cock until he’s crying for you to stop.
Jungkook may be used to keeping it down at his shared flat and know how to be quiet, but you can always tell when a guy is close, and you’re surprised at how much he’s been holding it. From how swollen and purplish his cock looks, how much he’s leaking, and the way it reacts, throbbing and twitching at your touch, he must have been on edge for a while.
“Are you a masochist, perhaps?” you ask, rather to yourself.
Your hands find his base again and start pumping him, both of them. The contact feels kind of dry, though, despite his arousal dripping through your fingers, so you bend down and spit on the head again.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, really,” you continue, jerking him off like it’s just one more chore. “A crazy chick ties you to the bed to fuck you and the first thing you do is get a hard-on. No wonder only your plushies are willing to let you hit it— though they can’t really say anything, can they?”
With a shaky gasp, Jungkook bites his lip and closes his eyes; he needs to stop either seeing or hearing you if he wants to hold on any longer, but your breasts are right in front of him, covered in a glistening layer of sweat, your erect nipples that he just had in his mouth, your pussy radiating heat and dripping down your inner thighs. If only you would sit on his cock and ride him until you cum and scream with pleasure, choke him, spit in his mouth, use him like he uses his poor childhood stuffed animals.
Then this torture would be over, he would climax inside you and stuff you with his cum, til it’s dripping. And the next torture would begin.
“Come on, the last test. If you pass it without cumming, I’ll let you go, okay, sweetheart?”
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts; suddenly, you’re straddling his lap, the tip of his cock brushing against your folds. The brief pleasure, more like a feeling-induced fantasy turned into a touch, makes him shudder and take a deep breath.
“This” – you yank off his shirt, buttons popping out – “off.”
Raking your nails through his hair, you yank it and force him to look at you in silence. His chest heaves and falls as he stares into your eyes.
Your thumb strokes his bottom lip. “It’s a pity that such a pretty face belongs to a pervert like you.”
“I’m not a pervert!”
“Yadda, yadda,” you mock him, tilting up his chin to get access to his jaw and bite him. “Whatever, I have no interest in your pathetic excuses – if you weren’t a pervert, you wouldn’t be hard right now.”
“I-it’s a biological response!” Jungkook insists.
“Hm, yeah, sure. Then you won’t mind if I don’t fuck you, right—? What’s more, you’ll be glad.”
To add weight to your words – and torture him a little in the process – you start moving your hips up and down against his cock, rubbing him with your folds. He twitches between your inner thighs, and you keep circling and undulating your hips over his tip, every now and then pretending you’re going to finally sit on him. His head penetrates you for a second, and you fuck yourself on it, one, two, three thrusts until you decide to press your ass against it.
“Just imagine if I let you fuck my ass,” you laugh. “Just think about it, sweetheart.”
“It’d be s-so tight,” he blurts out, “around my cock! Shit, I wish I could— I wish I could eat your ass, and then your pussy, and then fuck you open with my cock—”
“Fuck—”
You find yourself grinding on his swollen tip, rubbing your clit against his sensitive skin, too turned on by his words; yeah, you’d like him to eat your ass as well. Jungkook is trying to muffle the whimpers coming through his lips, but the pressure is getting heavier.
Moving in a quick thrust, you sit down on his cock. He works you open as it disappears into your body, a moan leaving your lips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders for leverage, hips setting a pace as you bounce on his cock. It massages your inner walls, with sounds of smacking flesh, working thigh muscles as you melt at the shocking waves of pleasure.
“Ngh—” Jungkook lets out a whimper and pulls at the restraints. “Fuck! Oh, fuck—”
Your skin prickles, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. It’s dripping, the ache between your thighs expanding while you chase your climax.
Jungkook pants, head bumping against the headboard, victim to the rolls and thrusts of your hips. Your tits are bouncing right in front of him, their round shape and hardened nipples so, so tempting, making his mouth water while his cock throbs and twitches between your walls. You clench around him, and he whines again. His nerves feel on fire, and the sight of your bare figure fucking yourself on his cock only worsens it.
Your hand slithers to pinch one of your nipples. Playing with it, arching your back, you let out a huff and roll your hips in undulating waves, cunt engulfing him over and over and soiling it with your juices.
You feel his tip bumping against your sweet spot when Jungkook suddenly cries; two thick tears roll down his cheeks, and you bend over to kiss them clean.
“Slow, s-slower, please, go—” he sobs, face red. “Shit! I’m— fucking hell, go slow! G-go slow!”
As he pulls at the restraints in pure desperation, his hips buck into you, jerking and trembling like he’s got no control over them. Jungkook is begging you to slow down, but the blazing way he’s fucking up into you, trying to reach your breasts and suck on your nipples again, wanting to get rid of the restraints so that he can grab your ass and pound into your dripping pussy only fuels him.
“Shut up, little bitch,” you grunt.
Before he can say anything else, you shove your nipple into his mouth and hover over him, your core aching at the wet pressure of his tongue around your hardened buds. You pull at his hair, and his eyes suddenly roll back.
He grows harder inside of you. “Oh fuck, oh, n-no, fuck, stop!” he cries out. “Shit, stop! Slow, slow down—!”
Only when you feel him going still on the mattress and the sweet feeling of hot cum filling you up do you understand he just came inside you.
You keep bouncing on his cock, and Jungkook’s seed eventually gets pumped out of your insides by his own cock. It leaks down your inner thighs and pools on his lower stomach, but you only lean onto him to bite on his neck while he sobs at the painful yet glorious feeling of your pussy milking every last drop of his yummy cum.
“Oh, baby,” you coo with amusement, scratching down his chest, “you just made this so much easier.”
Overstimulation kicks in when you resume bouncing on his spent cock, careful not to let him slide out of your cunt; Jungkook sobs and grunts as he writhes on the bed, pulling the restraints.
You grab his chin and spit into his mouth before you kiss him hard. Your teeth leave small bites on his lips and chin, peppering short kisses to swallow his sobs, embracing him to restrict his squirms. He’s crying so prettily into your lips, you want to eat him up.
“Please, p-please—! Hurts!”
Sucking the flesh of his neck, you let the red mark blossom. “A deal is a deal, sweetheart.”
Deal or no deal, you ride him chasing your climax, sweating and melting into him. Your clit rubs against his pubic bone, and the coiling tension in the pit of your stomach tightens. Jungkook writhes beneath you, and his toes curl in a poor attempt to let out a little of the pleasure that pushes him towards another orgasm. The sight of his cum dripping down your legs mesmerises him, your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
Fuck, you look so hot right now; he’s going to explode in a heart-shaped puddle of pleasure, he can’t stop the tears either. It’s torture, the best kind, how you’re touching him, stroking his skin, licking down his lips to his sweaty chest, playing with his hair. There’s almost a certain sense of affection in the ways of your hands.
“Please,” Jungkook cries out.
“Fuck,” you moan, closing your eyes. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come~“
Your words make his heart stop for a second. They fuel a fire in his abdomen and raise goosebumps all over his skin, and Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath as the pain starts to mix with the tortuous pleasure.
You keep bouncing on him, ass striking against his hips at a brutal pace. “God! Shit, shit, baby, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
“Please!” he begs.
The ache between your thighs makes your core tighten, your muscles burn, your sweat is boiling on your skin, dripping down between your breasts.
With one last powerful thrust, the tension snaps, and suddenly you’re bursting out in an explosive orgasm, squirting all over him. You scream out, squishing his cock with your dripping walls, moaning his name and burying your nails in his chest. The shockwaves grip your body, and you ride out your orgasm with slower rolls of your hips.
“Fuck, baby,” you let out in a weak breath, “you made me spill myself all over you.”
When you finally peel your eyes open, you notice Jungkook staring down at the pool of fluid on his lower stomach. His pupils are so dilated that they merge with his irises. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, and his hips are bucking into you subconsciously.
“M-mommy—”
You’re too exhausted to be careful not to drop on top of him and leave a feverish trail of kisses down his neck, holding his face and brushing your lips together, swirling your tongue around his.
“Mommy,” he calls again.
“Yeah…?”
“I’m—” Jungkook lets out a whimper when you shove your hand between his legs. “I’m c-close.”
“Again?” you ask with a hint of mockery in your voice.
He pouts and closes his lips in embarrassment, but the way his cock throbs and twitches as you circle the tip of your index finger on his cock feels too good to stifle his noises. You have such cute hands; he’d die just to see them covered in his cum.
You move down his body in a trail of kisses and nibbles, enjoying the smell of his skin, so warm and intense. The room smells of sex, and it turns you on so much that your mouth salivates.
“Let me take care of you.”
Scooting between his legs, you stroke up and down his Apollo’s belt as he arches his back into the touch, desperate to come. His cock pressed against his tummy, you grab it and spit on it right before dipping your tongue into the slit. Jungkook pants in surprise and squirms and, making eye contact, you part your lips around his cock and swallow around it.
Jungkook whines and tries his best to hold his hips still, but the feeling of being engulfed in your wet heat only engorges the tension in the pit of his stomach. Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, not yet, he chants in his head.
Sucking and bobbing your head on his cock, you enjoy how he responds to your touch; Jungkook is burning all over, writhing, twitching between your lips at the suction.
“Fuck,” he gasps, “y-your mouth—”
You don’t bother to reply and simply hum around his cock, and the vibrations send shivers of pleasure down his spine. His eyes stare at your lips, darkened and wet with saliva so, using hands and lips together, you start sucking his tip with sloppy strokes of your tongue and suction from your lips as your hands play with his balls. Jungkook lets out a breath moan, increasingly agitated and desperate.
Then you slide him out of your mouth, and he stares at you a bit confused – until he sees the way you just hover over him with your mouth wide open above his tip and gets it. Shyly, Jungkook bucks his hips into your wet heat, letting out a muffled moan.
“You— you can’t be for real—” he whines.
You tilt your head in silence, waiting for him to shove his cock into your mouth again.
He starts fucking your mouth with desperate thrusts, hitting the back of your throat. Tears make his vision blurry, and a wave of heat spreads under his skin. He’s half ashamed, half turned on just at the very thought of him having to fuck your face to cum while you stay there, hovering over him with your mouth open. The grip of your tongue around his cock is heavy and wet, you’re so mean to him, just letting him jerk his hips like a bitch in heat.
“I’m gonna— fuck!” Jungkook lets out a grunt and a desperate gasp, fighting the restraints and fleeing your mouth; but you grab his ass again and bury his cock into your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone, and you hollow your cheeks, fucking him between your lips. “C-coming! Slow, s-slow down, I’m— oh fuck, please!” he sobs.
His hips stutter, and suddenly he’s spilling himself into your mouth, dissolving into pleasure with a choked sob and your name on his lips. It’s bitter, but Jungkook’s contracted face, with two thick tears soaking down to the corners of his lips, and red cheeks makes it all worthwhile.
You help him ride out his climax with your hand wrapped around his cum-stained cock, but soon Jungkook is writhing beneath you and bursting out in tears of actual pain, and you let go of him.
Lying eye to eye, he watches you lean onto him and open up your mouth; a pool of cum rests on your tongue, and he doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth and lets you kiss it back into the source system, massaging your tongues together and rolling them over each other. A drop of white cum rolls down the corner of his mouth, but you’re both too busy making out naked on top of each other to care about it.
“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart,” you whisper.
After a pause, you get up and reach the camera to turn it off; suddenly Jungkook snaps out of something like a dream, and he remembers that you’re actually working. A feeling of shame and sadness washes over him, and he's so exhausted both mentally and physically that he feels the urge to cry.
“Okay, I turned it off.” You rush to undo the restraints on his wrists and massage the red marks with your thumbs to get the blood circulating again. “Does it hurt? I’ll get you something for the marks.”
In a thoughtful silence, he shakes his head.
“Good.”
You turn around and lean on his legs to undo the knots of his ankles as well, and Jungkook closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His heart is still trying to burst his ribcage open and get out of his chest, and now that the frenzy of the video is over, a dread falls over him; what is he going to do about you now?
“Uh, Y/N?” he asks, unsure.
Smiling, you look up at him with the rope in your hands. “Yes?”
Courage.
“Can I… take you out to dinner some day?”
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“Don’t laugh!” you exclaim, laughing. With a napkin, you wipe away the milkshake foam that stains your chin and the corners of your lips. “It’s not funny, you should have told me earlier. I’m sure everyone has noticed.”
The terrace where you are sitting is practically deserted except for a few tourists and a couple of birds circling over your food. With the sun shining brightly above you, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your tummy aches from laughing so hard, and Jungkook glances at the menu with a growing smile.
“I didn’t know you cared so much about the opinion of three people and seven birds,” he jokes.
“Hey, it’s eight birds, sweetheart. And the tourists are carrying a camera,” you insist, grabbing the menu from him with a playful frown, “what if I come out in the background looking like Father Christmas? I’d never get over it.”
“Then Father Christmas had a glow-up – when he was a kid, he’d just eat the biscuits and leave. Anyway, should we order to share or is it every man for himself?”
“We’d better share, I want to try it all,” you murmur as you take a sip from your drink.
Jungkook frowns. “You’ll get a tummy ache like last time.”
“You don’t have to remind me!” With a giggle, he takes the menu again. “It was so embarrassing, on our first date on top of that.”
He scoops to the other side of the table and steals a kiss from you, letting you cup his face and deepen the contact. “Okay, just order anything you want,” he says, sliding the menu back to you. “I’ll eat what you can’t fit in your tummy.”
You thank him with a short peck on the lips, and Jungkook returns to his seat.
“Oh, by the way,” you say casually, stirring your milkshake with your straw, “I have some good news and some bad news, which one do you want first?”
He frowns. “Well... The bad one, I guess?”
“The bad news is that I can’t use the video we made because you can hear us saying each other’s names. The good news is that it means we can make it again.”
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Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3
“Sideshow” is copyright ²⁰²³ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
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Text
Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]
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A/N: Had this song on repeat since its release and it reminded me of these two so much…
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]
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Sharing is caring, but when it comes to being between the King of Hell himself and his newly established opponent - the all too cocky Radio Demon- you don’t have much say in who gets fair claim of your existence.
Sharing is caring, but only in the ways that matter to the men wrapped around your little finger. Lucifer needs your physical touch; he can’t go one moment without it, and god help you if you’re around other flirtatious sinners -he’ll be all over you for no reason at all. Hand on your hip, lower back, even on your ass if he’s feeling possessive. His height doesn’t matter, not when he can back hug you just fine, plant kisses on your head or temple, and sit you down on his lap without a second thought. Lucifer is a sucker for praising you, every word out of his mouth is sweeter than honey, and the knowing smile on his lips when you get all soft and shy from his gentle admiration swells his already massive sense of pride.
“You’re a sweet little sinner, aren’t you, baby doll?”
“I’m so proud of you, my love.”
“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”
“I’ll do anything you ask of me, sweetheart..”
“Atta girl…keep going…just like that…”
The King of Hell never runs out of patience for you, spending his free time in your presence without a care for his rival's foreboding aura. Though at times they blatantly argue, the drop of your sweet smile into a solemn frown has them both rushing out an apology. However, Lucifer is quicker than Alastor to admit his faults. He makes up for mistakes with sincere gestures, visiting you in the dead of night with the promise of pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves. By the following day, you can’t even begin remembering what you were angry about.
Sharing is caring, but Alastor has a hard time with both concepts. He’s not one for physical affection, preferring acts of service and gift-giving as alternatives. You don’t seem to mind, always at his side when he calls, a pretty little thing on his arm while he struts about hell running conspicuous errands, and a genuinely engaging sinner he doesn’t mind having deep conversations with. You contrast him in all the right ways: expressive but gentle, lethal but only when provoked. Unlike most demons, you hold value to Alastor, drawing out a softer, more honest version of the stag that most will never see. In private, you’re allowed to babble off his ear while he works, cuddle up in his lap when he’s feeling ‘vulnerable,’ and sometimes you’re lucky enough to get a few somewhat kind words from the overlord amid lingering kisses.
“What a pretty little thing you are,”
“I’m tempted to keep you all to myself, ma chere… Would you like that, hm?”
“I know you can’t help being a greedy girl, darling, but I’ll always be better than that pompous excuse for a king.”
“You love to provoke me, don’t you, little one? Prancing around the hotel like you do, smiling at every little thing, and showing off for attention..”
“It’s rather pathetic, but lovely things can’t control what they attract..”
He’s possessive, outright toxic in some instances, but you’re quick to manipulate the stag into an agreeable state with the threat of seeking out Lucifer’s company over his. This tactic occasionally works, but sometimes it enrages Alastor to bloodlust. His semi-polite exterior falters, causing the overlord to be on edge with everyone -especially Lucifer- and the king won’t let a chance to irritate him further slip by.
“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”
Lucifer snickers as Alastor enters the parlor through its shadows, automatically glaring at the sight of you straddling the blonde fallen angel with his hat lazily set on your head, and you giggle at his obvious disdain for the scene. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Al. I just wanted to play with Luci for a bit.. “ you flash him a cheeky grin, purposely shifting on the devil's lap to feel his growing erection and show more skin hidden underneath your fluffy oversized jumper. Lucifer chuckled, ducking his head to give you a quick kiss as the crackle of static resonated around the room, but you were far from scared of Alastor’s fury in the presence of his rival.
Sharing is caring, but later that night, when you snuggled under your bedsheets with Lucifer, lying on his bare chest, only wearing his dress shirt, soundly asleep, and listening to his undead heartbeat, you’re jolted awake by the distinctive coolness of shadows lurking over your skin.
“What made you think I wouldn’t put you in your place, my dear? That I wouldn’t remind you he’s not the only one who can lay claim to your very existence?..”
Alastor’s voice echoes through your head, coaxing you awake as his specters entangle around you. They tug, pull, squeeze, and ravish your small frame with his every word. Your cunt starts to pulse with need, leaking arousal in steady drops as a shadowy tentacle prods your entrance before sheathing itself in your warm walls with one sharp thrust.
“Ahm!” You yelp, eyes shooting open as a satisfied whine leaps from your lips; quiet moans soon follow as the bulk of shadows touches your womb with tender strokes. Two more snake up the borrowed dress shirt, swirling under the white silk with precise menstruations, encircling your fragile body ruthlessly until you’re forced to sit up in hopes of gaining more fleeting touches. “Alastor, you’re being mean…” you groan into the darkness, hips rutting down in timid circles, a reflexive action you try to maintain to avoid waking the man lying under you. Alastor’s low laughter shifts from your mind to the confines of the room, signaling his physical appearance in the space, and you’re tempted to search for him but aren’t given a chance to as the scrape of his sharp claws manifests along your sides. He’s close, so close you can feel him leering behind you, breathing in your ear as if he needed your scent to survive.
You lean backward, humming at the familiar firmness of his chest meeting your back,” Just wanted you to be a little nicer, that’s all…” Your explanation for earlier does nothing to quell Alastor’s jealousy; his hands hovering over your sides clamp down harshly, and his claws shred through Lucifer’s shirt to prick your skin. Your heart thuds wildly as a scream threatens to fall from your chest from the pain he causes, but your cunt clenches with excitement from his aggressive treatment. “Reasoning won’t help you now, darling. It seems you only understand one thing..” he purrs into your ear, red eyes glowing as they trace your flushed form, “A-and what’s that?..” you mumble fearfully, feeling a coil build in your core, but a pang of shame in your chest overrides it as Lucifer begins to stir below you. He’ll awake any second, and though you weren’t afraid of him seeing you in a whorish state, very used to being intimate with him, the unpredictable reaction he’d have to Alastor taking advantage of you right in front of his eyes was still nerve-wracking.
Sharing is caring, and Alastor’s response to your feverish question makes more sense than you care to admit. “Attention, my dear. You’re shamelessly addicted to it,” he drawls, smile widening when you whine helplessly, back arching as his shadows wrap around your breasts before swiping over your pert nipples while your cunt no longer resists forceful strokes of his shadows. Your vision blurs as the sensations blend, erasing mannerable actions from your thoughts the closer to cumming you got, and the riveting shivers vibrating your body were evidence enough. The subtle tremble of your thighs mixed with the combined noise of your soft moans and Alastor’s hushed taunting drew the King of Hell awake with a gentle start. Lucifer ruts his hips upwards on instinct before groaning tiredly, mildly aware of the familiar stickiness your arousal causes on his pale skin but unsure as to why it’s there. “Baby, what’s the matter-“He’s at a loss for words for a long moment, almost panting at the sight above him, confused at first but gradually intrigued as sleep waned from his consciousness. Alastor smirks, lips against your neck as he stares down at the fallen angel, daring him to instigate a fight. “Ah, looks like you awoke your preferred lover, ma chere. How rude…” the deer demon taunts you, clearly unbothered by your disagreements and conflicted writhing. “N-no, that’s not ah- ah- mmm fuck Al, please d-don’t!” A bright blush coats your cheeks, tears brimming your waterline as the demon nips at your bare shoulder before lapping up the blood that trickles from the wound. His gaze never leaves Lucifer’s as his tongue collects the red liquid, humming triumphantly as a prominent red color floods the ladders’ cheeks and eyes. “How fucking dare you..” the blonde hisses, voice thick with an indecipherable emotion, and you whine anxiously as embarrassment rushes your veins. It wasn’t your fault Alastor was taking his anger out on you this way, disregarding his aversion for touch in the hopes of getting back at you both, but it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the intense situation brewing.
Sharing is caring, and you're afraid neither entity will consider doing so as a heavy beat of silence engulfs the room. The only sound is your rushed breaths, growing heavier with every thrust and twist of Alastor’s shadows in and around your body. You try to break free from the overlord, gazing down at Lucifer pleadingly for a better chance at forgiveness. Unexpectedly, his displeased expression morphs dramatically seeing the desperation in your eyes. He’d never been the type for sadism, let alone encouraging it, but your need for his help stirred a primal desire in his chest that he’d only felt sparks of recently. It was no help to him that Alastor, a demon with no remorse or pity for your plight, was the one indicting pleasure on you. He’d seen the stag agitated, irritated, and maybe even flustered but never lustful. It was new and undeniably attractive. Why waste an opportunity to use it against him?
Lucifer took a slow breath, stamping out his rage in seconds as his eyes shifted from your lidded ones to Alastor’s, “How dare you have fun without me, hm?… that’s a little unfair,” he pouts, stifling a groan as his cock twitches to life. The radio demon scoffs, forgetting his grudge against Lucifer for the mutual benefit of desire, “If you wished for fairness, you shouldn’t have fallen from heaven …” he taunts back.
Sharing is caring, but the instant sting of Alastor’s insult doesn’t anger Lucifer like usual. It eggs on the blonde, prompting him to reach for you, and you welcome the gentle coolness of his fingers trailing up front. Unlike Alastor, his claws do you no harm, never breaking skin even as he cups your jaw firmly. “C’mere, little one. M’ not going to hurt you…” he coos quietly, eyes glowing as brightly as Alastor’s as you leer into his touch like a wounded lamb. “Yes sir…” you whisper compliantly, surprised that Alastor relents his hold just enough to let you follow Lucifer’s lead. He’s relatively calm watching you, admiring how your hair falls like a curtain over your flushed face, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the dress shirt slipping off your shoulders but sticking to your skin at every curve you had. There were reasons he wanted you to himself but dealt with sharing you with another, and this sight was one of them. You could be so good to them both, on all fours, cunt creaming from his actions and Lucifer’s words, and your loyalty to them both on a whole show no matter the implications.
Sharing is caring, and to some degree, you believe it’s a possibility for your relationship with a prideful fallen angel and an egotistical demon. Lucifer lay beneath your trembling form, muttering encouraging praises against your lips when he wasn’t connecting them with his own in heated kisses.
“Mhm, good girl…go on, come for him like you do for me.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”
“Fuck, you like that hm? Want more? Ask him nicely, sweetheart…”
“Cum for us, my love…”
“You’re doing so well….taking us so well. There you go, baby, all of it just like that…”
Alastor loses track of himself within moments of watching you come undone in his shadows for the first time, hungry to feel the warmth of your cunt for himself as puddles of your cum form on Lucifer’s crotch. You don’t fight him when he replaces his specter's task of fucking you, welcoming the length of his cock with a grateful smile and melodic moan of his name. “Alastor!… nghh yess, please r-right there!..” you yelp into Lucifer’s neck, letting him cradle your head as he talks you through the rise of your next high, “You sound so precious like this, baby. Give em’ what he wants.” His tone is strained, leaning towards a moan as he watches your expressions switch between pleasure and pure wonder. Alastor is fixated on the both of you, ears twitching at the top of his head with every satiated moan you let out and sinful word Lucifer says. His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them harshly as he snaps his roughly, plowing his cock into your cunt with so much pent aggression your legs refuse to stop shaking. “Oh, fuck…” he groans in the air, tearing his gaze away from your arched back and leaking entrance to try and slow the impending peak of his high. Self-control was something Alastor prided himself in, but it was spiraling from his grasp the longer he fucked you.
Was this what the King of Hell had been enjoying with you?
Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?
Filling you with his overrated seed in the hopes of one-upping him?
If so, Alastor could never blame him. You felt divine, after all, and had no complaints about being used for pleasure.
Sharing is caring, but you forget all about it when Alastor yanks you away from Lucifer, a hand tangled in your head so tight you’re sure he might rip into your scalp if he holds you any tighter. Luckily, the overlord refrains from doing so, opting to groan into your ear as he buries his length to the hilt in your fluttering cunt, spilling ropes of warm cum into your abused womb with no remorse. “Don’t waste a single drop, ma chere. See it as a gift for being so well-behaved,” the radio overlay in his voice is gone, giving way to an accent you couldn’t resist mewling at. Lucifer chuckled, eyes fixed on where Alastor and you were connected, smirking at the mess you’d both made on top of him. “Need a taste of that…” he mumbles more to himself, tone hungry, demanding. You’ve yet to catch your breath before Alastor lets out a short laugh, flinging you forward into Lucifer’s chest without much care as to how weak you still are, “Greedy bastard,” he snickers, slowly pulling out of you with a satisfied grin at your attempt to keep him in. “Now, now, dear. I’ll have another turn with you soon. No need to be selfish..”
Sharing is caring, and oh, how wonderful it is when you’re sat in Alastor’s lap, facing away from him, one leg bent over his while the other rests on Lucifer’s shoulder. The King of Hell kneels before you both, inhaling the scent of your cunt, and smiling at the steady stream of cum drizzling past your folds. He’d done this many times before, a being addicted to the taste of women, of you specifically, but you still shied away from his vulgar eagerness. Your coy reactions only worsened when the notion of Alastor’s cum mixed with your own eventually settling on Lucifer’s tongue came to mind. They hated each other after all, and despite getting along most of the time in your presence, you never imagined this to happen, but neither backed down from the ordeal.
“W-wait Luci, you don’t h-have-“ you start to protest quietly, squirming in Alastor’s hold to avoid Lucifer, but your refusals don’t hold any weight to them.
“Mm, but I want to, love…I can’t help it,” the blonde whined as if he’d die without getting the task done, hands cupping your inner thighs tenderly as he flicked his tongue over your slit and swollen clit. You jolted in Alastor’s grip, biting back a whimper as he mumbled into the crook of your shoulder, “It’s impolite to refuse royalty, so let him have his fill …”
Sharing is caring, and you’re sure Lucifer could survive off eating your pussy alone just fine for the rest of his immortal life. He makes a show of it, diving his tongue in and out of your stretched entrance, moving to suck on your clit every so often before putting both actions into tedious repetition. You couldn’t remain coherent as he explored your insides with expert focus, letting his tongue linger in the spongiest and sweetest spots in your cunt just to draw back and generously spit on your clit. He’d learned your body, when to hit nerves, or when to overwhelm them. As of now, every sense you had was heightened, intensifying when Alastor’s eyes studied your facial expressions, your smile growing an inch more expansive when you rushed out a warning to Lucifer.
“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”
The devil perks up, delving two fingers into you, red irises dilating completely as they hit a tender spot in your cunt immediately, curling against it at a languid pace. He met your gaze with a proud smile on his face, tongue lapping at your clit leisurely, begging you to come undone without hesitation. Alastor curses under his breath, agitated by the fact that your moans are turning him on again, and you feel his cock twitch under your weight.
Sharing is caring, and the euphoric bliss of releasing in Lucifer’s mouth felt divine, bringing small tears to your eyes as he buried his face in your mound, moaning at the taste of you drenching his tongue. Alastor grunts as your hips rock to meet Lucifer's pace, hands creeping up to cup your breasts, kneading the plush flesh mindlessly to avoid bucking his hips against your backside for better friction. He couldn't give his rival the triumph of seeing him worked up at the sight of you cumming so reverently under his touch. You felt powerless between them, shaking in Alastor's arms and pleading for Lucifer to join. One look is all it takes for the two to agree, giving into your minuscule wishes and thoroughly enjoying themselves the remainder of the evening.
Sharing is caring, but if you dare to utter a word of what transpired that night in the presence of others, both will deny the implication of tolerating one another. Although, you find yourself being used by both more often, stuffed full of their cum night after night, and keenly aware of the mutual trust growing between them when you finally collapse into sleep by their sides. They're capable of fair behavior with you, but only in private. Away from the eyes of others who’ll never witness how obsessed The Radio Demon & The King of Hell are with you and you alone.
xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx
It's just a filler post cause I'm getting burnt out with requests! ❤️ I love your ideas, so I'm trying to write them all in my style but as concisely as possible. It's tiring but fun…
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
They may not be able to stand each other but I’ll gladly take them both (not in a fight) ❤️ credits to creator
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aothotties · 3 months
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Sneaky Link w/ JJK
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WARNING: MDNI, Nanami and reader are in their early 30s, Oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, sex on a table, multiple orgasms, fluff at the end.
Nanami
So you and Nanami were actually married but mutually decided it was best to part ways due to work.
You two actually share a daughter who wants nothing more than for her parents to get back together. 
Mind you, she’s literally 6, so it’s not like you guys don’t already know what she’s trying to do. 
She’s lowkey the reason why he’s your sneaky link to begin with. 
To make a long story short, you were going on a date, little Ms. Matchmaker told Nanami, next thing you know your ex husband is waiting for you in your driveway and fucking you within an inch on your life in the kitchen. 
It’s been like 6 months since the link ups started and it’s starting to get more and more obvious, especially to family and friends.
He’s started grocery shopping with you, started coming back out to family events, he comes over every night for family dinners too. He’s so good at cleaning up too, sometimes…
“A-ah, Nanami!” Your back arches off the table he has you sprawled out on.
He ignores your pleas and continues on lapping at your clit with his tongue, he wraps your thighs around his head and moans at the way you taste.
You thank god Shoko offered to take your daughter for the night, but it also leaves you wondering it it was on purpose. 
The sensation of Nanami sliding his thick fingers inside your warm cunt pulls you out of your thoughts. He stands and hovers over you, he takes his thumb and rubs small circles on your clit.
“Nanami!” Your legs squeeze shut and you close your eyes tightly as you come on his fingers.
“Such a gorgeous woman, how did I let you get away.” He lays you back on the tablet and starts working on removing his belt.
“I miss you baby, we both do.” You bite your lip and open your legs slowly, the sight of your glistening pussy causes his pants to tighten. 
“Oh baby, I’m going to ruin you.” He pulls you down to the edge of the table and shoves his slacks down the his knees. He spreads your legs open a d lines his tip up with your dripping hole.
“Do your worst Mr. Kento” You give him a sly smile and he chuckles before filling you to the brim with his cock.
You moan as he pulls out completely before pushing back inside of you.
“You wanna see me do my worst?” He leans down so that his face is right in front of yours, you bite your lip and nod quickly. 
He presses a quick kiss to your lips before he easily fold you in half and drills your cunt like a mad man. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucks all of his feelings deep inside of you, he wants you to feel all of the love he has for you with each thrust.
“N-nanami” You exclaim, he grabs your face and presses your lips together passionately.
Your second orgasm creeps up on you as his tongue fights against yours. His hips are showing how he feels while his lips are almost telling you.
“Give me another one my love, come again.” He rest his forehead against your shoulder, before gently sinking his teeth into the delicate skin. He lifts your leg up onto his hip and bucks his hips into yours.
“A-ah! I love you Nanami!” You confess, tears of pleasure and withheld emotions finally being released as you both reach pure ecstasy.
Nanami’s hips stutter at the confession and grabs your face in his hands ever so gently. He slides his tongue in your mouth and takes his time bringing you to your final orgasm. 
His lips never leave yours, and he groans into your mouth as his orgasm gradually builds up. 
“C-come inside of me. Give me another b-baby” Your eyes roll to the back of your head.
His hips completely lose their rhythm when you say that and he pushes your legs all the way up to your chest before coming deep inside of you.
You moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling your pussy up.
“Did I hurt you?” He sits up and tries to catch his breath, you shake your head and press a much needed kiss to his forehead. 
“Not at all, this was all perfect. It’s getting late, you might as well just stay the night.” 
He gives you a small smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips
“Now i see where our child gets it from.” 
Ari
Here's the links to the other parts: Gojo | Geto | Toji | Chose
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svnnysidez · 5 months
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the photos anton just posted oh my god 🤭. hes so strong and his arms are so big. hes so big.
anton loves you so much and he wants to show you. he loves hugging you, encasing you in his big arms, making you feel safe. he loves kissing you, peppering kisses all over your face. all well antons big cock stretches you out nice and good. anton doesnt realize how big he actually is, he just goes in, sometimes without preparation. you never mind though, feeling how good he stretches you, how deep his cock hits inside. you never bother to complain, the pleasure he gives you is double, maybe quadruple, the pain.
anton has such a big size kink without even knowing it. he loves how his hands can envelope yours without even trying. when hes fucking you all nice and good his hands are on your hips, just the way his hands leave giant hand prints on your hips afterwards always turns him on. and omg his cock, it burries so deep into ur uterus, if hes fucking you on ur back he can see the buldge of his tip hitting ur lower stomach and oh my god he gets so close to cumming from just that sight. he realizes how big he is compared to you in that moment and how he can overpower you without even trying.
he lives for the way you beg for him. anton never thought he would like being begged for but here he is. you basically clawing at his jeans, begging to get fucked and stretched out by him. "please tonnie! need you s' badly!" his cock absolutely aching at his pants with your pleads and whines. he doesnt tease you often but when he does he gets a kick out of it. anton secretly loves watching the way you beg for him. as if he was the last man on earth and you were some dumb slut that needed to be fucked. to you anton was the last man on earth, the last one that you wanted to be fucked by at least.
(these pictures really did something to me)
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httpiastri · 3 months
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ollie bearman x crawford!reader
the instagram story was subtle enough. or, at least, so you thought.
ollie didn't seem to agree.
it was a video of you in the newly bought sundress you'd decided to wear to the sprint race today; twirling around in your hotel room, the geotag of "silverstone circuit" in the top right corner. but none of this is what ollie cares about: it's the choice of background music.
they say home is where the heart is, but god i love the english. you know i love a london boy…
the poor boy nearly had a heart attack when he saw it in the paddock. he thought it was super obvious; "i love a london boy" could only mean one thing.
your relationship with ollie is still secret from everyone, including your brother, to ensure that people won't get involved in your private business. besides, once the news is out even in just the racing world, you know it will spread and get big in no time; that's the way it usually is with formula drivers. especially fan-favorites like ollie. so, for the moment, you've decided to just enjoy wherever this takes you, without caring what anyone else thinks. but now, he's scared you've blown it.
your instagram account is on private, so you aren't afraid of fans snooping around and seeing it. but still, it worries ollie; your brother follows you, and that is much worse than fans, he reckons. when you first started going out, you thought it would be natural to tell your twin brother about it, considering the fact that ollie is one of his best friends – but ollie disagreed. the whole dating your best friend's sibling-thing never went well in the movies, and that's all he had to go after.
the song echoes in his brain all morning. during the driver meeting, his pre-race briefings, even as he watches the f3 sprint. he likes my american smile like a child when our eyes meet; darling, i fancy you. all morning leading up to the race, he's distracted and can't think of anything else, though his mechanics and engineers think he's just focused on the race ahead of him. ollie needs some kind of closure, and it isn't until he spots you walking down the f2 paddock that he finds an opportunity.
it's not long before ollie is supposed to get into his car that he sees you on your way to the dams garage. the sundress you showed off in your instagram story looks even better in the real world, and he can't help but swoon at the sight of your smile lighting up the paddock just as much as the sun. he snaps out of it just in time, because when you walk past the prema garage, he swoops out and grabs your wrist, pulling you in.
"ollie-" is all you can get out because now he's pulling you along with him so fast that you can barely even keep up. you manage to nod and greet a few of the prema workers on your way – most people recognize you as jak's sister since you spent a lot of time in the paddock with them last year – but soon, ollie has managed to find you a secluded corner far in the back with no one around.
you rest one hand on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, looking up at your boyfriend with pinched eyebrows. "you..." he starts, letting out a sigh. "your story on instagram..."
"what about it?"
you weren't usually one to tease him, so he assumes you are actually sincere in your current confusion. the thought of your story may have been etched into his mind for the last few hours and the reason behind his displeasure might be totally clear in his head – but you never were one to read thoughts, which he sometimes forgets. "jak is going to know."
you don't look any less confused by now, which makes ollie feel even more impatient. "why would he know?"
"the song choice. london boy, really? it's so obvious." he pauses for a moment. "you can't do that."
his words are meant as a warning, but the smile on his lips tells a whole other story. no matter how scared he is that your brother will find out that you've been hiding this relationship from him, he can't stop himself from finding it just a bit amusing. and with the way that you're still watching him with such an innocent look and your other hand is also reaching for his shoulder, there's no way he can hold back a grin.
"sweetheart, it's one of the most popular songs out right now. in the entire world. no one will even bat an eye. plus," you tilt your head. "i'm an american girl in england, so london boy is an obvious choice."
"you could've chosen so many other songs about england, but you had to choose that one?"
the chuckle leaves your throat instantly. "you're not even a london boy, ollie."
he knows he's lost. he knows he's just worrying about nothing, he knows there's a much bigger risk that someone finds out about you being here with him in the prema garage than jak connecting the dots from just your story. but he can't give up just yet.
"i'll forgive you. but on one condition," he says, and you immediately nod at him. "give me a kiss. for good luck."
there's not even a second of hesitation before you get onto your tippy toes, reaching up to him. your lips are pressed onto his once, then twice, then thrice. you're both smiling into it, and his hands cup your cheeks, holding you close when you part for the last time.
"you know," he starts, thumbs drawing circles into your cheeks. "i fancy you."
the giggle that leaves your lips is like music to his ears. did he actually study the song? "oh, oliver," you say, trying to pull off your most british accent. "darling, i fancy you, too."
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bucknastysbabe · 1 year
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So. I saw this picture. He looks so soft and huggable. Therefore my brain spat this out. Obvi I love chubby grump Bucky who can F U C K
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 2, 623 words
Synopsis: Bucky is having a mid-life crisis at 100 something years. His girlfriend is an aggravating little angel shit who doesn’t understand why. Cue pool time and ripped blonde superheroes making poor Bucky extra grumpy.
Tags: Chubby!bucky, avenger!reader, size difference, age gap (twenties and technically late thirties), pnv!sex, daddy kink, Bucky’s hating ass internal dialogue, the reader is a slut for the extra Fluff, pwp, fluff and smut, him Jealous, and Big, I tried to make it humorous heehee
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Poolside blues
It was hot. Bucky sucked on his popsicle angrily, sulking under an umbrella. He wore his t-shirt even in the blazing heat. Bucky grimaced at the cloth sticking to his skin, pulling at the fabric with a huff. He didn’t want to run around shirtless when the likes of Steve and Thor were basking in the sun— the golden gods they were.
So Bucky sucked on his popsicle, his fourth one already. He flexed his metal fist, cursing it for being such an eye sore. The assassin was convinced his body had it out for him. Mess of a shoulder, ropey bullet scars, and way too much extra weight he didn’t ask for. Bucky stared down at the soft flesh adorning his midsection, lips twisting into a frown.
Hydra had royally fucked his metabolism up, serum or not. Add a plethora of mood stabilizers and Bucky looked like a damn chipmunk hoarding up for the winter. His girlfriend thought it was cute, cooing and pinching his fleshy hip. Bucky did not think it was ‘cute’. He’d never been like this in his over-extended life. Soft.
He’d held thick muscle since the serum and kept that up at the least. The brunette worked out religiously to rid himself of that extra pudge. Now he was jacked with the stupid layer over it— making him feel like a bulky lummox. Therefore if he was going to sweat to death by the pool, so be it.
Bucky’s icy eyes flickered to his best girl playing around with Thor in the water. She giggled and batted at the blonde god while he picked her tiny frame up. The brunette’s eye twitched while gripping his popsicle stick until it crushed. His girlfriend was too cute for her own good, often drawing attention from the other sex.
“Are you just going to drill holes in them with your mind or get in the pool?”
Bucky glared at his oldest friend. Steve smiled down softly, big hands on his waspy waist. He grumbled, “I’m fine. Punk.” The blonde teased, “That’s why your shirt is soaked then huh? Go get in the water you’re making me miserable looking at ya.”
“Nope,” Bucky shot back, popping the ‘p’.
Steve sighed and dove into the huge pool. Bucky pouted efficiently from the side-lines. Thor had his stupid blonde hair and stupid white teeth and stupid washboard abs. His girlfriend appeared in his line of sight, her brows knitted in concern. Bucky attempted to not stare at her perky tits— nipples peaked under her blue strappy bikini.
She hummed, “I can feel you drowning in self-pity over here. Why don’t you get in babe?”
He was staring at her tits now, he didn’t care, not really. Bucky shrugged, “You have fun I’m fine over here. Thor is waiting.” She narrowed her eyes up at him, pushing back damp hair. Bucky licked his lips, holding the woman’s glare.
In a swift motion she launched onto the concrete.
Clambering up she swayed toward the grumpy man, droplets running down her tight body. Bucky took in the view, getting lost in it really. He could watch her all day and sometimes would. The assassin grunted as she plopped onto his lazily spread thighs, soaking him. Bucky hissed, “What was that for?”
The coolness of her skin felt amazing. He willed himself to not pop wood in front of the few teammates milling around. His girl leaned over, breasts about to spill, and pressed against his padded chest. She simpered, “Buck, c’mon, you know no one around here cares. You’re perfect.”
Bucky snorted, “To you, maybe.”
She frowned and lightly slapped at his shoulder, lips pouting. Bucky hated when the pretty thing pouted— he somehow would up doing what she wanted in the first place.
Every. Single. Time.
She ran a finger down his chest, big eyes begging, “Get in the pool, please? You look so upset over here and that makes me sad.”
Once again Bucky lost to her feminine wiles, groaning out a strained ‘fine’. Her mouth split into a toothy smile, cheering, “Yay!” He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm. Sometimes Bucky forgot she was a little over ten years his junior. If one took off the cryogenically frozen periods. She hopped back into the water, eyes eagerly flickering to the side.
Bucky hauled himself up and reluctantly peeled off his dark shirt, revealing his pale skin and soft parts. He willed himself to not curl into a ball or run away screeching. Steve wolf-whistled, sending an embarrassed flush across the brunette’s full cheeks. He barked, “Knock it off Rogers!”
Sam, as always, had ESP for people flustering Bucky. He shouted from the grill, “Looking thick my man! Whole slice of beef!” The assassin was convinced he was going to self combust, sliding into the water to cover himself up. His girlfriend snickered when Bucky resurfaced from his shame dive, splashing his face.
He frowned down at her, the spitfire raising a brow in challenge. Bucky slung her over a thick shoulder, hand across the backs of her thighs. She laughed and kicked, playfully squirming. Bucky had half a mind to leave a mark on her ass, show the Asgardian who she really belonged to. She stopped thrashing and murmured, “If you do not stop being jeal-“
The assassin cut her off when he dunked under the water. She spluttered and cursed at him, Bucky laughing, “Sorry sweets, what were you saying?”
“Put me down or I’m ripping your hair out!,” she howled. He chuckled and slowly let the angry avenger down. She shook her head, flicking the sensitive skin below his belly button. Bucky winced and gaped petulantly— horribly trying to block of the feeling of jiggle. The woman latched back onto him, pressing a feathery kiss to his bearded jaw. With a dirty smirk, spirits lifted, Bucky led them to the shelf in the deep end.
Sitting back he groped at her ass under the water, earning a squawk and another slap in return. She whispered angrily, “Stop that! Not in public!” Bucky grinned dumbly, eyes flickering to her perky chest. He apologized, saccharine sweet, “Sorry baby, you’re just so pretty I couldn’t help myself.”
Tony Stark and Natasha approached the pool, him lowering his sunglasses at the pair. Stark sipped his drink and loudly observed, “Horndogs at it again. Barnes you’re a nasty old man, you know that?”
Sam sniped, “They call him Bucknasty for a reason!”
Bucky’s temples throbbed with annoyance. He shouted at Sam, “No one calls me that but you! Bird brain!” He needed to scoop the girl up and take off— now. Steve was howling with laughter, hand slapping his chest, Thor smiling in confusion. She turned and grinned at Tony, “He’s my nasty old man.” The woman laid an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. Stark pretended to gag and situated himself in a lounge chair. Natasha’s lips quirked up, green eyes sparkling with amusement.
Bucky rumbled quietly, “I’ll show you nasty if you keep it up acting like that in my lap.”
Her tits bounced when she inhaled sharply, shit-eating grin falling from her face. Bucky lecherously grabbed another handful of ass for example. Her voice quavered when she weakly replied, “Very funny Buck. Not in front of everyone!”
“I’m not being funny. Seeing you getting flipped around by the blondes has me feeling…some type of way.”
Bucky was proud of his updated lingo, courtesy of the sexy trembling thing in front of him. She huffed quietly, squirming minutely on his thick thighs. “Jesus Christ, they’re all going to know when we both leave.”
“I think Clint complaining about us being loud all the time lets the team know what the deal is,” he smoothly pointed out.
With another harsh look Bucky regretfully watched her get out of the pool. Now he had to walk in front of everyone without a safety blanket again. He briskly climbed out after her, keeping his eyes focused ahead. Tony complimented, “Looking yoked there Barnes, trying to bulk right now?”
Bucky wanted to hiss at the billionaire like a feral cat. He felt like he’d been bulking for months. Just not allowed to cut— so sayeth the metabolism. He grabbed a towel and threw it around broad shoulders, aggravated with how his belly was on display. She was toweling her hair off.
“C’mon then you beast,” she snickered.
“Beast?,” he echoed.
Bucky hauled her up again, the smaller one yelping. He snatched his sweaty shirt up and carried her to the elevator. She sarcastically questioned, “Do you always have to carry me around like a caveman when you get jealous?” Bucky grunted in agreement, thumbing at the soft skin of her thighs.
She said, “You do know I only think about you, like, all the time.” Bucky couldn’t help but let his heart skip a beat. Still he whinged, “I don’t know why when there’s all these… ripped guys hanging around.” His girlfriend scoffed and rolled her doe eyes. She remained quiet on the walk, ensuing quiet ride up the elevator, and the remainder of the trip to his rooms.
Deposited on the bed she informed Bucky, “No matter how many times you shrug it off, I think you’re really hot. I like a little fluff on my men.” The brunette shook his head, crawling onto the covers. He muttered, “I don’t. I follow you around like some goddamn oaf.”
She pinched his cheek, grinding out, “You’re a little soft and I happen to enjoy you fucking me into the bed. Stubborn mule.” Bucky’s dick twitched at her words, grabbing an ankle to pull her closer. She continued matter-of-factly, “It’s also nice to have my big scary boyfriend behind me. It turns me on.”
Bucky peered at her, face set in suspicion. She ran a hand down his side, finishing it’s path at the laces of his swim trunks. Her face was cutely set in determination, deft hands untying the shorts. The assassin groaned low in his throat as the cloth fell down, exposing his aching cock. He climbed out of them and threw the shorts across the room.
Bucky eyed her up, watching her cheeks heat at his gaze. He gently positioned himself between her legs, pointedly keeping his weight off to her chagrin. Bucky sealed his watering mouth over a covered nipple, sucking eagerly. She whined and flexed under him, thighs wrapping around his hips.
“Ah! Buck!”
Her long lashes fluttered when his other hand untied the strings on the top. Bucky eased off the flimsy fabric, whistling lowly at her full tits. He nipped and flicked his tongue on a peaked bud, tweaking the other. She cried out, rutting up against his heavy cock.
Bucky’s lips split into a grin when he realized she was also untying her bottoms with shaky hands. He pulled off a nipple and teased, “That needy for it, huh?” She yanked off the offending fabric with a nibble at his jaw. Bucky would purr in contentment if he could. Until the nip at the flesh under his chin— which granted he has always had but still didn’t appreciate it.
He grumbled and lightly swatted her ass with a grimace. She mused, “You’re so hot. Honestly. I wish you would believe me Buck.” The assassin ignored her comment, instead sucking marks on her collarbone. She writhed underneath him, the wetness of her pussy sliding against him. The woman whimpered, hands holding his cheeks insistently, “C’mon and fuck me, please daddy.”
Bucky almost exploded, came back, just to explode again into a puddle of goo. She wanted to play like that today. He gripped her hips with low moan, eyes traveling up the expanse of skin. His girlfriend’s chest heaved, eyes darkly glazed. Bucky growled, “Y’want me to fuck you? Shouldn’t daddy finger you first?”
Huff. She shook her head no, dragging the molten slick across his need. Softly she begged, “C’mon daddy please, want to feel the stretch, need you.” Bucky’s eyes rolled in sheer desire, nudging the blunt head of his cock against her opening. He slid in with a curse, eyes clenching shut.
She was snug as always around him, pulsing and seemingly sucking Bucky in. The woman whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. She gasped, “So big, fuck daddy, don’t stop!” Bucky was not going to stop unless he magically disappeared.
He braced an arm beside her pretty flushed face to get leverage. With a lewd smack Bucky clapped his hips into her, enjoying the wanton whine. The brunette pulled back to give another roll of his hips, moaning lowly. He got into the rhythm he knew she liked— slow but forceful. Bucky smiled down, cooing.
“You’re so pretty babygirl, taking me so well,” he emphasized with a deep thrust. She clawed at his shoulders, pressing sloppy kisses to his throat. Wide eyes met his, her breathing, “No you’re pretty.” Bucky narrowed his lids, apparently his girl wanted to be a little shit.
“I don’t understand why you won’t let me- shit! Daddy!,” she cried out with a smile, “Compliment you!” Bucky picked her legs up and hiked them higher, driving his hips into that silky-soft spot. He grunted in pleasure as she arched and yanked at his hair, mouth hung open with punched out ‘ah’s’.
Bucky rumbled, “I don’t like it- fuck sweets so tight- because it’s exaggerated!” He was panting with exertion now, reveling in the tell-tale slaps of skin echoing. The petite Avenger under him whimpered when Bucky hit her g-spot dead on, tears pricking her eyes. Bucky kissed a droplet, murmuring sweet nothings.
“Keep fucking me daddy, I’m gonna hah- cum!,” she wailed. Bucky urged, “Yeah babydoll, want you to, c’mon need it.” He thumbed around her clit, breathing into her lax mouth, swallowing up those broken keens. She sobbed his name into the kiss, clawing and scrabbling when she clamped down on him. Bucky’s eyes rolled up at the pulsing and gush of slick, fucking her through the orgasm.
His baby’s loud keens turns into little whimpers as he kept thrusting into her tight body. She quavered, “Cum in me please daddy!” The woman nipped along his jaw again, rubbing at his flexing ass. Bucky felt his lower belly tighten, a swirling fog gathering in his brain purely driven by need. He growled, “I’m gonna fill that sweet pussy up, you want that from Daddy, huh?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Ask and one shall receive. Bucky felt his balls draw up and he came with an embarrassingly slutty groan. He drooled onto her neck, gasping through the brunt of his body emptying into her wet heat. She cooed, “Oh, so good, ah thank you daddy.” Bucky collapsed halfway onto his girlfriend, still firmly snug inside.
She rubbed a trembling hand across his bloodied shoulders, serumed body already working on knitting the claw marks back up. Bucky simply breathed, unable to come up with intelligent words. His brain had probably shot out of his dick. She maddeningly caressed his, ugh, love handle.
Bucky groaned, “Stop it.”
She retracted the touch and rasped, throat bruised from yelling, “One day I’m going to convince you Buck. Perfect as you are.” Bucky snorted, “We’ll see about that.” He softened at her lithe hands pushing his sweaty hair back, grinning like he’d hung the moon. He murmured, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
She giggled and cuddled up like a damn koala. Bucky didn’t truly mind, albeit she may be delusional and think overweight one hundred year old former assassins are sexy. He was glad he’d been able to find the loon, all his to boot. Bucky shook his head in amusement, the feeling of her sharp teeth on his chin again, him starting to protest.
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fairyhaos · 3 months
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how seventeen would act as a webtoon fantasy world prince
this was written with those virtual character dating simulation thingies in mind btw?? like. those unrealistic webtoon isekai-esque stuff. ive never played them before but this is based on my interpretation of them lmao
masterlist
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seungcheol
either you fall in love with prince seungcheol at first sight or it's some charged enemies to lovers dynamic until someone finally realises they've fallen. he's just such a huge and great and formidable presence and he is just The Best protector. there's ofc gonna be some sort of altercation where you get hurt and you can bet that his eyes go stormy and he's asking "who did this to you" in a low voice, full of promise to murder anyone who hurt you. watches you with stars in his eyes when you descend the staircase in the beautiful outfit you're wearing as his partner to a royal ball, and that's how he knows that you're the one
jeonghan
prettier than you. every time he appears on screen there's a bunch of shiny sparkles and floating hearts and at least one of the other faceless side-princesses has to faint at his beauty in the background of the scene. he's charactertised by his soft eyes and the glinting teeth in his smile and the way he always has the most out-of-pocket sentences that leave his lips. he's really pretty and really smart but also???? unexpectedly does little things that show that he cares about you. prince jeonghan is written as the webtoon trope where he looks like a laid-back pretty boy but secretly loves you dearly and would defend you with his life
joshua
childhood friends who drifted away due to circumstances in their own kingdoms before finally reuniting at a ball and realising oh god... they both grew up to be so beautiful. there's some underlying, dramatic plot involving betrayal and corruption in the temple (dude it's always the temple) but your love for one another is always there, unspoken but ringing true constantly. does it kind of give you plot armour? yeah, bc the writer doesn't want anything to happen to joshua. (or you. but mostly joshua.) but there's also at least 6 shirtless prince joshua scenes bc the writer loves him so. take what you can get.
junhui
he's just Doing His Best okay. he's been married off to you, a royal from another kingdom, and he's kinda having a bad time bc the climate of your kingdoms are just so different but you're also kind of being all snappish with him like he chose to be married off to you?? but you're also really pretty and sometimes you're quite nice and it's obvious you're a good person from how you talk about your subjects and he knows that you don't like him but he thinks he might be falling in love with you, which is kind of confusing for everyone. comedy-fluff-misunderstandings webtoon style.
hoshi
playful younger prince. rebellious. you first meet him in some rundown, peasant area and you genuinely think he's just the illegitimate son of a noble rather than the prince himself bc he's just so friendly and blatantly disregarding all sorts of common court etiquette. as someone stifled by the rigid aristocratic structures, you find it refreshing, and talking to him is just so easy and you get to express yourself so well around him. before you know it, you're in love, and when you feel horribly betrayed at the reveal that he's the prince, well.... perhaps someone else out of the two of you managed to catch feelings too.
wonwoo
he's always so calm and composed and it makes you want to climb him like a tree and wring his shoulders to finally ruffle his leaves a little and find out what makes him tick. you want to be the one to crack the secret to prince jeon wonwoo, basically. will he let you? no. he hates you. at least, that's what you think, before something happens at a horse-riding tournament through the woods that you're participating in and your horse becomes out of control, and from then on, wonwoo never leaves your side. almost as if he was scared that he'd truly lose you, and he realises that he never wants that to happen, ever.
woozi
guys. guys prince jihoon is perfect for a prince x knight trope. prince jihoon who's head knight and always ends up sniping with you, the one knight in his charge that always snarks back. prince jihoon who spars with his knights often and always seems to be the closest in skill level with you. prince jihoon who mostly sees you in your armour so to see you dressed in finery at a ball makes him blink because you're actually rather beautiful. and you, who feel torn between your duty and the comfortable banter that you've developed with the crown prince that makes you crave more and more every time he turns to leave.
minghao
you rarely go out to balls but this time your family convinces you to come to the masquerade ball the royal family are holding for the crown prince. there, you meet a handsome masked man, who leads you through one of the fast dances and has you laughing into him before you share a fascinatingly intellectual conversation with him until the ball ends and from there, you're whisked away by your chatty (but well-meaning) family and you never see him again until a dramatic encounter at the market where you're about to get robbed but a familiar voice steps in. is it a cliche plot? yeah, but prince minghao is drawn to be utterly gorgeous so people will stay for the art
mingyu
is literally soooo drop-dead gorgeous that you promise yourself you're not gonna fall in love with him bc like???? he's the prince from a neighbouring kingdom that you're being forced to marry. this off-the-charts handsomeness is just a ploy to get you to act out a cliche of falling for him. but the more time you spend with him, the more you find that despite being (almost terrifyingly) handsome, he's also kind of... adorable? so... maybe you'll rethink your decision to not fall in love with him.... especially when he trips over his feet and accidentally blurts out how he's in love with you when on a walk in the palace gardens
dokyeom
ray-of-sunshine crown prince who is so annoyingly perfect that you feel kind of irritated. literally it's soooo obvious that the writer has a thing for puppy-coded sunshine bright boys bc it even makes the reader fall for him too. you have an (admittedly one-sided) rivalry with him, bc he's just so kind and loved by all and it fills you with hatred bc you've been nothing but despised and shunned your entire life. but then, some small, kind gesture that he does to you marks the beginning of change in your feelings, and it's as his eyes find yours during yet another ball that you realise... oh. perhaps you've fallen for him after all.
seungkwan
spoilt brat. but also your childhood best friend, so you've learnt to deal with his tendencies and know how to hold him back from kicking someone in the shins in a very un-royal way, and have even grown to love him. like a friend, ofc. however, the weird feeling in your stomach from seeing him having to entertain foreign royalty.... it's definitely not jealousy, right? definitely not. at least, you don't think it is, until seungkwan and you overhear his parents talking of an arranged marriage with another kingdom and you realise with startling clarity that you never want to lose seungkwan to someone else
vernon
honestly. vernon is probably the ordinary guy who was isekai-ed into a fantasy novel as the crown prince. but like, Why does he manage to do so well in his role???? he's panicking the entire time, but he's not necessarily doing badly, and he manages to make you fall for him even harder than you do in the original novel. the second male lead doesn't even have the chance to be an option bc vernon is literally the only person you see. he doesn't know how it happens, but he speed-runs the entire book in one month and then you're confessing your love for him and uh. he might actually be in love with you too.
chan
prince chan is the most gentle and most courteous prince of all time. bows all deeply and respectfully when you first meet him, and he's careful not to touch you without your permission. has such a captivating smile and such captivating words that you can't help but find your gaze gravitating to him at all times. stares at you all awed when you laugh at a particularly funny joke he made. he will 100% definitely treat you right forever. kisses you all soft when he leaves for a battle, your handkerchief tucked into his clothes as a reminder of what he can never leave behind
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