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railroad-migraine · 1 year

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I posted 611 times in 2022

That's 455 more posts than 2021!

360 posts created (59%)

251 posts reblogged (41%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@railroad-migraine

@randoimago

@saphirered

@a-menagerie

I tagged 608 of my posts in 2022

#mod poet - 272 posts

#reblog - 162 posts

#anon - 115 posts

#anons - 114 posts

#critical role x reader - 94 posts

#asks - 87 posts

#ask - 87 posts

#critical role - 86 posts

#self reblog - 80 posts

#critical role imagine - 75 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#i get to see from afar you guys starting to like my stuff and i get so excited bc i know you're a real person and not a bot

My Top Posts in 2022:

hi! can you write something where geralt and cottagecore! princess reader start falling for each other? tysm!

I love when opposite aesthetics collide and fall in love. This is so cute, hold on. Geralt deserves a soft life after all he's been through, poor guy

~ Poet

In love with a Cottagecore!Princess

Geralt

Falling for you wasn't part of his plan.

Partly because he was simply hired to escort you from your winter home, through the monster infested woods, and make sure you settled in nicely at your summer home.

Very quickly he came to the conclusion that you were unlike any other princess he'd dealt with in the part, and trust me, he's come across a few.

You weren't beaten down by the tragedies and heartache this world inhabited. You relished in what was good, and only passed it on to all who you met. You were so open with him, hanging on to every (rare) word he spoke, a keen interest and intelligence in your gaze. You weren't afraid of his reputation - you were fascinated by it.

And whenever Roach was given a break from either of you riding her, you'd link arms with Geralt as he lead you along long forgotten tracks, your flowing and floral sleeves soft and delicate compared to the hardy leather and heavy chain he was so used to wearing.

You emerged from the woods about a two weeks into the journey, and you both were lucky enough to not come across any sort of beasts during your time there. Once the trees parted and the frosted forest floor became green grass, Geralt felt as though he'd walked straight through a portal and into another realm completely.

While your winter home had been blanketed with snow and unforgiving layers of ice...

The land surrounding your summer abode was teeming with life. Fields upon fields of rich soil allowed fruit trees and flowers to flourish, and the sun on the back of his neck prickled his skin with warmth.

And in the golden glow of the late afternoon, you grinned up at him and pulled him along the path, and you were simply ethereal.

You insisted he stay a little while longer, and he couldn't help but begin to enjoy the domestic and refreshing way of life you lived at your estate. Every night, he lay in bed, with clean clothes and crisp sheets covering him, and he fell asleep to the beautiful view outside his open window. A hill with an ancient tree in the distance caught his attention, and in his bleary-eyed state the witcher mused the idea of you perched on one of the branches, hair and dress tussled in the light summer breeze.

As if he was a seer, that's exactly how he found you a few days later. You kicked your legs as he approached the mound, a flower crown sitting lopsided on your head. He couldn't resist the grin that tugged at his lips at your carefree and glowing nature.

You spent the whole day at that tree, eventually coming down to join him on the blanket you'd brought, sampling crusty bread and sipping berry wine as the day faded. In the midst of his storytelling, you traced the rim of your goblet with a finger, a soft yet pensive look on your face.

Eventually his words failed him, and you watched each other with careful intrigue before you proposed that he stay at least another week. Geralt frowned and considered the idea. Nowhere else would he experience such fine weather at this time of year, such humble but delicious food, and the land itself seemed to discourage monsters from invading. It was a lovely hideaway and retreat from the outer world.

But when he agreed and you rested your head on his shoulder, huffing out a content sigh, he continued to say that the view by his side was far fairer than any he'd come across in his travels.

You leaned back to glance up at the witcher, only to have golden eyes already meeting yours. In them, you saw promise, yearning, hope. He wants to stay for you.

And like his eyes and yours, your lips met soon after 💗

330 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Nicknames for You

-> Bell's Hells x GN!Reader

Notes: This wasn't requested. I'm between assignments and requested stuff. I was sad and had the sudden motivation to write ✨ something✨

I loved writing this. I'll be referring to it and other pieces related to it in the future. Enjoy x

My faves marry me challenge 💍

~ Poet

Ashton 💙

"Babe"

I've said this before and I'll say it again: Short. Sweet. To the point. Casual. Gender neutral. Yes plz. (x)

Calls you this more than your actual name, and they are more than happy to have you call them it too. Ashton literally has to bite back a huge grin when you refer to him as it before he practically crashes into skids over to you.

Slings a strong arm over your shoulders and tugs you into their side, playfully headbutting your temple, and you just know he's smiling next to you. Coos the nickname, whines it, says it when he's mad and when he laughs. No thoughts, head empty, only babe.

"Angel"

It's sappy, true, but sometimes they wonder if you were made special for him by some sort of patron god looking out for him. You came into their life when they needed someone like you most.

"Good looking"

It sounds ever so slightly classier than calling you "sexy" or "hot" on a daily basis in public.

Regularly calls you this in the morning, waking up next to you, followed by a lazy smooch to your cheek. Their voice is gravelly and full of sleep, eyes half lidded and vision bleary - but he still knows you're a sight to behold.

Chetney 💙

"Pumpkin"

Heard a couple call each other this before he even met you, and he kept it stashed away in his noggin for ages until he accidentally blurted it out when referring to you. Wouldn't mind the nickname being reciprocated.

"Buttercup"

Early on in your relationship, he snatched acquired a small bunch of the yellow flowers from someone's garden and gave them to you with a shyness you wouldn't normally associate with Chetney.

And their golden colour reflected on your chin in the late afternoon light as you lifted them to your face and everything just slotted so naturally into place from there.

It's soft, it's delicate, it's something that reminds him of the memory when he realised how whipped for you he actually was.

"Hot stuff"

C'mon. I mean, c'mon. This screams old man Chetney wrapping an arm around your leg or holding your hand, showing you off at a fancy event you guys are infiltrating and chatting with some snooty nobles.

Dorian 💙

"Dearest"

Kisses your knuckles like the gent he is, but the knowing wink he gives you and cheeky smirk you feel against your skin lets you know how much fun life his been since you entered his world.

"Love"

This is where Brontë and Dorian overlap and merge together. He fondly remembers his parents calling each other, his brother, and himself this when he was younger, and it's just so... Sweet.

See the full post

332 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

Gifting Them Flowers

-> The Witcher (Netflix) x GN!Reader Headcanons

Note: Belated Happy Valentine's Day, my loves 💕 Something small I whipped up for you to enjoy

~ Poet

❤️

Geralt

Hesitantly takes the bunch of wildflowers from you, holding them gently in his hands in fear of crushing them.

Looks at you, a pinch between his brows from where he's furrowed them. He asks you why are you giving him something, and stiffens when you say "Just because~" He's not used to being gifted something without the other person having an ulterior motive, and even then the object given to him is something useful, tying him to an errand or quest.

It's... nice, the flowers so delicate and soft and his in his grasp. He looks pensive, and you reach out and ask him if there's something wrong, but he shakes his head and the corners of his lips quirking up as he regards you. "You didn't have to, but you did it anyway, and I'm very grateful that you thought of me." He seals his sincerity with a kiss.

❤️

Jaskier

His mouth parts in a soft 'o' shape and lifts the small bouquet closer to his nose to breathe in the subtle floral scent. His eyes close for just a moment before opening, brighter than ever, full of unfiltered joy.

Warmth flushes across his face and he grins giddily, thanking you with a flourish of pretty words and kisses to your cheek. You squirm in his grasp but the eager affections of the bard cause laughter to spill from your mouth, and this only encourages him further.

Happily plucks one of the flowers from the bunch and tucks it behind your ear. "If a flower grew for every moment you cross my mind, I'd have fields upon fields of flora, and rule as king of that land with you by my side."

❤️

Yennefer

The bunch of flowers you held out to her were far too nicely wrapped in paper to be simple spell components, so she prepares polite "thank you"s and "you shouldn't have"s in her head, not quite sure how to respond.

But when her fingers brush against yours, electricity flutters across her skin, and it awakens something within her, something that she had pushed aside for far too long. She huffs a laugh as a smile dances across her lips, and for the first time in what seems like forever, all is well.

She feels no dull ache within her, no yearning for a legacy or something greater. Instead, fondness floods Yen's senses, and she presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks, resting her forehead to your temple. "You silly, sweet, delightful thing, you."

❤️

Cahir

He's quiet. He doesn't scowl, and no snarky quips are made. His jaw, often clenched from gritted teeth or frustration, finally relaxes. His eyes soften and he stares at the small bunch of daffodils gripped in his hands.

He's about to say he has nothing to give in return, but the look you give him halts him from forming words. You expect nothing from him, only a reaction. He swallows, nods, and thanks you earnestly, thumbing a velvet soft, golden petal and allowing the swell of emotion to spread through his chest. Suddenly, all of his duties are stripped back, and it's only you and Cahir in this moment.

Takes your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles in thanks, and promises to return your kindness later. Be it dinner or dancing, jewellery or gemstones, as long as you know how touched he was by the sentiment he's happy. "Whatever it is you desire, say the word and it is yours, darling."

357 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

I challenge you to write a fic in ten sentences!! 😊

It's been a hot minute since I wrote for the Witcher, so here you go darling x

~ Poet

Pillow Talk

-> Geralt x GN!Witcher!Reader

"What am I going to do?" he asks, golden eyes heavy with sleep and threatening to close as the seconds drift by. The hand - your hand - in his hair certainly isn't helping, carding out tangles and picking out leaves after a long day's travel.

"You're going to guide her," you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice, "train her, scold her if need be... And love her just as a father should."

His grip tightens in the bedsheets when you accidentally catch your fingers in a knot, but he doesn't so much as wince. Instead, his mind wanders to what's to be in the months and years ahead of them.

The princess with ashen hair sleeps soundly in the next room - though it wouldn't surprise either of you if she was pouring over some ancient tome she found in the library instead.

"A father, you say..." Geralt sighs, partially exasperated with the notion, and partially content with it as you begin to lay down next to him in the bed, "A weighty title indeed."

"Perhaps," you whisper as you reach out, cupping his face and prompting him to finally close his eyes, "but it's a title not often given to people like us - the Law of Surprise truly has a sense of humour. And if you'll have me, I'll be at your side every step of the way."

The corners of his lips quirk upwards, assuring you that he heard your words and is grateful for them.

360 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Me, on my phone and waiting for my lecture to start:

382 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #teatime with poet

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many-gay-magpies · 2 years

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the urge i have to write novels of groups' lore. is astronomical. if you ever plan on writing that dark moon novel I WILL JOIN YOU I'LL DO IT NO HESITATION WE'RE PRACTICALLY ALREADY WRITING ONE RN

oh god the reader-insert-ness of sooha in the webnovel is sO BAD MAGS. i physically cringed a few times. have a Lot of thoughts abt the sooha i wish we had because yes !!! a sooha with walls built because she has trouble trusting people !! because her whole life she's been judged and been an outcast !! a sooha who fights for her life first and asks questions later because she's just so afraid !!!! and a process of opening up and learning to be vulnerable and loved !!!!!! i also very much see a moment for her when she realizes that if the vampire boys with all their dumbassery/weirdness (and borderline creepiness when you think of the night-prowling) can manage to be the most popular students at decelis, hell, maybe she can too. sooha is a character with a Long way to go in terms of self-love too and i wish her arc could be dedicated to accepting herself in all her uniqueness and growing to be stronger with friends like her by her side. you know, instead of getting a boyfriend. i will not lie to you though, i do still enjoy canon sooha's positivity and bubbly energy. its fun to picture the dark moon boys and sooha like the "sunshine/sunshine protector" meme too, if you know the meme. just sooha w her seven besties that would kill a man for her

OKAY HEAR ME OUT. SHION AND JAKAH ON THEIR LITTLE CRYPTID WALK AND THEY DECIDE TO RACE EXCEPT SHION ON THE CEILING AND JAKAH ON THE FLOOR BC SHION SWEARS ANTIGRAV CEILING TRAVEL IS FASTER THAN NORMAL RUNNING AND JAKAH IS OBVIOUSLY LIKE "i am literally superpowered in terms of speed" AND SHION INSISTING ON RACING ANYWAY (jakah wins ofc and shion ends up kind of dizzy and motion-sick after)

-vrvr anon

NO ALL OF THIS. SO MUCH. id have so many plans for an actually good dark moon novel bro im not kidding like id probably make sooha way more traumatized than she is in canon because i like writing traumatized characters but..... there would be SO MUCH . and hell id probably come up with an entirely different backstory for sooha and the boys and how they were connected Before because the whole princess + knights thing lowkey makes me cringe HDJHFFJGF

BUT ANYWays. SOOHA. YES. the sooha we could have had........ *wipes away single tear* shes so beautiful bro :') EVERYTHING YOU JUST SAID IM HAVING SO MANY FEELINGS . sooha with walls a mile thick !! sooha who fights first and asks questions later !! yes !!!!! a sooha who's just. so constantly afraid all the time of being cast out or shunned or even KILLED for something she's not even sure she IS, and covers that fear with the biggest show of bravery she knows how to put on because the fear only lets them know she's vulnerable. don't let them know. never let them know

like you said though i do like the (webtoon) canon dynamic of her being sunshine and all the boys being her seven sunshine protectors (that dynamic is my absolute shit shjfbfjfb its SO sweet) but even then id like it even better if the dynamic was less focused on sooha and heli's romance plot and more focused on... sooha..... like just imagine. a sooha that's aggressively sweet and kind and cheery, a sooha that's unwaveringly positive, precisely BECAUSE she's been through so much shit in her life and she doesn't want to be the "evil, murdering vampire" that everyone sees her as, so she covers all her bad parts up with a sunny attitude and a bright smile, hoping that people won't hate her that way. she's friendly and personable, but after chris she always kept people at arm's length so that no one could find out the truth. this sooha still needs to learn how to love herself, and be vulnerable; how to accept that who she is isn't something to be ashamed of. hell, she might even be on par with salty defensive brash sooha in my head :')

[HELP i didnt mean to go and make sunshine sooha angsty as well but. really all my headcanons for her boil down to her being ostracized and attacked all her life and building up walls to protect herself, just in different ways. now that i think about it my ideas for a lot of characters (whether they're headcanons for other characters or ideas for my original characters) involve them putting up masks to hide their true selves/feelings so that they can't be hurt, whats up with that actually--]

OKAY NOW ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE. i just got the very funny image of the "sunshine and seven sunshine protecters" image with sooha and the brothers but,,, she is ALSO very capable of killing a man. so like some dude comes up to her and tries to pull some shit and all the vamps are like "grrr hands off our bestie >:(" in the background but she fucking annihilates the guy before any of them get the chance to do anything. (sunshine protectors who WOULD kill a man for her but usuallu dont need to because she's completely capable of disposing of them herself)

a race with jakah on the ground and shion on the ceiling.... thats such a funny image bro im in love with it. and then at the end when jakah's waiting at the meeting point they agreed upon and shion finally, FINALLY reaches it (like a full thirty seconds to a minute after jakah lmao), he drops down from the ceiling spiderman-style, wrapping himself around jakah and knocking him to the ground while hissing "you fucking cheater" in his ear. and jakah (dying from the full weight of shion on top of him) is like "ITS LITERALLY MY POWER WHAT DID YOU EXPECT--"

#asks #anon 📝#vrvr anon #dark moon nonsense #dark moon

0 notes

uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

Note

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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1kook · 3 years

Text

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

A Special Kind of Man

this fic swap is for @safertokiss ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol

A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.

Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.

But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.

I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.

Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.

I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.

So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.

“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.

“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”

There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.

The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.

“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”

“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.

Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.

“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”

I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”

“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.

I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.

“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.

I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.

“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”

Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.

“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.

“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.

I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.

“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.

“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”

“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.

“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.

“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”

I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.

“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.

Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.

“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”

I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.

I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.

“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.

Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.

From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”

I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.

I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.

“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”

“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.

Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.

___

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

Note

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

��Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles headcannon #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles request #fic rec #harry styles #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles one shot

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

i was an angel, looking to get f*cked hard. like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer

summary: a disaster.

warnings: like, everything. threesomes mmf and ffm. anal, like extreme anal too. oral. vaginal, and also extreme vaginal bc yikes that got crazy there for a moment. slight bondage. steve being the b e s t (imo that’s a logical warning)

word count: around 9,250

relationships: steve rogers x reader (main), andy barber x reader, mike weiss x reader, ransom drysdale x reader, robert pronge x reader, ari levinson x reader, colin shea x reader, nick vaughan x reader, frank adler, wanda maximoff x reader

a/n: i’m just discreetly dropping this mess in the cover of night lol. literally will never understand why my mind came up with this idea. but if you see this fic, who was your favorite power duo?

To you, it was just another normal day. You were on Steve’s lap, your legs draped over his, his knees pressed hard against your inner thighs to keep you open, your ass grinding down on his hard cock. With two fingers buried in your overworked pussy and a thumb rounding your clit, you couldn’t sit up on your own. You were leaned back against his chest, babbling all the while your cunt made a mess on his pants and the bed.

To Steve, well, he had other plans. “What do you think your weirdest fantasy is, doll?”

He was only asking because you were so distracted, so weak-minded in that moment to feel anything even close to shame. But the last thing you ever wanted was to hurt Steve, didn’t matter how fucked out you were.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I know you’re a beautiful woman who gets a lot of attention. It’s all right…”

“Steve?” you prompted. Why this question? Why now? And what did he mean by attention?

His mouth was at your ear when he spoke next. “You were talking in your sleep again.”

You immediately felt hot all over, and it was not because of your impending orgasm. “What did I say?”

“Some very interesting things. But I wanna hear it again. I wanna hear it now that you’re wide awake.”

You turned your head up, shivering when he didn’t stop moving his fingers. “I love you.”

“I know you do, my gorgeous girl. I always know. But I love you, too, and I want to make sure I give you everything you want. You can tell me, I would never betray your trust.”

“Well,” you squeaked, feeling like your throat was about to close, “lately…”

He curled his fingers up just right and you cried out. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got all day. I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

“It’s just…um, lately…I’ve kind of been thinking about, like, being fucked…”

He hummed.

“By, like, a lot of people. Like…in one night.”

He scoffed. “People or men?”

“Well…”

“It’s okay,” he assured. “You want to be fucked by a lot of different cocks, yeah?”

All you could do was nod.

“That’s okay, baby. I was just curious is all. Just like you are. It’s not wrong to fantasize about that.”

“But I don’t need it, okay? I only need you.”

“I know,” he assured. “I know how much you love my cock.”

“And you.”

He nodded, smirking. “Yes, and me.”

When Steve had come home from his run several days later, you had felt him watching you. You craved him immediately because even after all these years, all the nights he had fucked you senseless, the missions the two of you couldn’t go without being connected, you still ached to be wrapped around him because you loved him so much.

He kissed you slowly, pointedly before he went to take a shower. You went to his bedroom several minutes later and waited for him on his bed. You stripped down to nothing but your bra and panties.

You knew he heard you come in and he heard you drop your clothing, he heard you climb on the bed, and he could hear you breathing. You were certain he could smell you, too. You were drenched just thinking about fucking him. It was unnatural how badly you wanted Steve sometimes.

He came out without a towel, water dripping onto the floor.

You scoffed. “Baby, stop making a mess.”

“Don’t be hypocritical, doll. You’re about to make a mess of the bed.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Still soaking wet, he approached the bed carefully. He showed zero hesitation as he laid himself on top of you.

You laughed. “Steve, you’re getting water everywhere!”

He didn’t care, he just kissed you, filthy, all tongue, moaning into your open mouth. His hands slid up and down your torso, your hips, your thighs, never touching you quite where you wanted him to.

You felt his cock between your bodies, already hard. You attempted to reach down to move your underwear aside, but he caught both of your hands and pinned them to the mattress over your head.

He broke the kiss to stare down at you.

“Well, are you going to make me make a mess, or what?”

“I have something new I wanna try, doll.”

You scoffed. “New? Is there anything you haven’t done to me yet?”

He looked excited to answer the question, but knew if he started to think about it, this situation would quickly spiral out of his control. “Well, remember how Wanda took an entire town hostage?”

Your mouth dropped. “I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about that.”

“Oh, she’s fine now. That’s what therapy is for.”

“Okay, but your point is?”

“She’s gotten much better at using those powers.”

“Like…the mental stuff? Like…” You hated to use these negative terms because you hardly blamed Wanda for everything that went down, but until Bruce had come up with the sensitive script, you were all just going in blind. “Like, mind control?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me how that’s relevant right now, Steven.”

“Better at mind control, better at…creating worlds. It doesn’t even have to be out here anymore, she could get inside your mind and make you think you were living a life that she completely made up.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I asked her for a little help. You remember what we talked about the other day? How you want to get fucked by different men?”

“That is not what I said because I definitely do not want that.”

“You don’t want to get fucked by other men, in reality. In a world created by Wanda, however…”

“Steve, I don’t—”

“Just try it with me. She’s gonna come in here, you’re going to let her in that gorgeous head of yours. I’ll be there with you the entire time.”

“How will I know it’s really you?”

“I promise, baby. That’s what she said. She can do that, she can put us both in one little world that no one can interrupt us in.”

“So…who’s fucking me? Because if it’s Bucky, that is so weak, Steve. We can have a threesome in real life, grow up.”

“Nope. No one on the team.”

You were immeasurably confused then. “Do you even know other people?”

“I know you inside and out, and I know who you want to fuck.”

“You think there’s anyone in this world that I think compares to you?”

“In this world? Oh, no. Hang on, I’m gonna get dressed and then I’ll get Wanda.”

It was clear then that he wasn’t going to tell you a thing. Steve could be elaborate when he wanted to and his “in this world” comment was starting to scare you. If not this world, what world?

You watched him finally dry off and slip into a simple t-shirt and jeans. Shamelessly, your eyes moved over his body, thighs rubbing together when he tucked his cock into his pants.

“You touch yourself and this isn’t going to be as pleasant as I wanted it to be.”

You lifted both hands to the headboard. “They won’t move, I promise.”

He moved over you again, kissing your forehead. “You know how much I enjoy rewarding you when you’re a good girl.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll be right back.”

When he returned with Wanda, you were trying not to think about how weird this was. You loved Wanda and yes, you were both comfortable enough that you’d been naked together. But in a sexual way? Never happened. This was obviously sexual. How did he talk her into this? Probably an early birthday present.

“Lie down next to her,” she directed.

You moved over a little, finally placing your arms back down to your sides. He got on the bed next to you, turning his head to kiss your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile, some of those twisting nervous feelings were starting to get quieter now that he was so close to you.

Wanda sat down next to you. “Are you calm?”

“Not really,” you admitted.

“You need to be calm,” she instructed. “Just close your eyes.”

You did so, mindful of your breathing and trying not to let your thoughts get ahead of you.

“You should probably tell her who she’s going to see,” Wanda recommended. “She’s going to panic there and ruin this whole thing.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but she is the worst about this stuff. I can never manage it.” He took one of your hands in his, his fingers sliding between yours. “Baby, remain calm.”

“Okay…”

“You know that actor you’re so in love with?”

You immediately sat up, staring at him with wide eyes. “What?!”

He sighed at you and reminded, “Calm.”

“How does anyone stay calm after that, Steve?”

“Lie back down now,” he directed, and you did so with a sigh. “Now, you made me watch many of his movies and that one show... who else would I let fuck my girlfriend?”

“This is weird.”

“No, this is fictional, meaning that it’s not real. Meaning that yes, you’re going to feel like you’re getting fucked by different men, but you’re not going to be. This is the only way I can accept this fantasy of yours.”

You looked at Wanda. “How is this even going to work?”

“So, your thoughts and opinions about these characters will influence their behavior. Think of it like I’m a spider, spinning a web with your thoughts.”

“And you’re the prey caught in the web,” Steve tried.

Wanda gave him a flat look. “No.”

You snorted. “Okay, so…it’s all just what I think they would do?”

She nodded.

“And you promise Steve will really be there with me?”

“I promise.”

“Like, it will really be Steve? Not just some imaginary Steve of my mind?”

“Honey, I brought my boyfriend back from the dead and kept him with me in a town for a very long time. I think I can manage you and Steve for a few hours.”

Steve lifted your joined hands and kissed the back of your palm.

You turned to look at him.

“I promise I’ll be there the entire time. No one, not even a fictional man will touch you without my permission.”

You snorted. “And mine?”

He smiled. “Right. That was what I meant.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Mostly, what you will experience will be based on your mind. But Steve will be there too, equally part of this, so I can also take feedback from him. If he wants someone to do something to you, I’ll know, and I can make it happen. You’ll know it’s really him then, won’t you?”

Yes, more than likely. Steve certainly had a very specific style in the bedroom.

“Okay, so just relax for me,” Wanda tried again.

Steve kissed your hand again and you settled back down on your pillow. You once more paid special attention to the steadiness of your breathing and tried to quiet your racing mind.

“Okay, just focus on my voice,” Wanda said. “I’m going to count down.” She pressed her fingers to your temple lightly and began at 10.

The next thing you knew, you were in a dimly lit room, naked and lying on a leather surface. Your legs were open, ankles bound, and your hands were tied together over your head, also wrapped around something you could not see. You were spread out and on display, incapable of even moving an inch on your own.

“You good, baby?”

You looked up where Steve’s voice sounded. He was naked as well; you could see all that muscle you always enjoyed even with the dull lights. “I’m good.”

“You okay with being tied up?”

“I think so.”

“At any point, you want to stop, just say my name.”

“Just your name?”

“You want me to stop, yes, say my name.” He started walking along the table, his hand coming out to trail down the side of your body. “But if you want me to keep going, you can call me daddy.”

You scoffed. A group-sex kink and a daddy kink all in one day? “Wow, you’re just going all out, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you think this is my fantasy? You said a lot the other night.”

“You could have woken me up. That is such an invasion of privacy.”

“If I had woken you up, this wouldn’t be happening. I have no regrets, doll.” He climbed onto the table, hands settling on your hips. On his knees, he briefly leaned over you as he pulled your hips up off the table, slowly sliding his cock inside you.

You tossed your head back, pulling on the ropes around your wrists. “Fuck.”

“Fuck?” he promoted, voice thick and gravelly.

You laughed breathily, still adjusting around him. “Fuck, daddy.”

He hummed. “Such a good girl.”

“Are you going to make me come for being so good?”

“You’re not entirely good,” he countered. He reached up, hand closing around your jaw so he could turn your attention to the side.

Standing along the wall were several fictional characters that you had proclaimed your love for at least several hundred times to Steve. He was never huffy about it because he knew you loved him, but you figured that might change after this…

They were silent, simply watching. It was odd to think about how they were just there, how it felt so real even though you knew it wasn’t.

“The murderer, seriously?” he pressed.

There were two, in fact. Ransom Drysdale was the first one you noticed. You were weak, what could you say? Then Robert Pronge. That had to be a new low. He was a terrible man, you knew that.

“I’m…sorry?”

“You will be,” he promised.

“But there are also lawyers,” you pointed out.

“One of them is an addict.”

But today, you were the only thing that beautiful man was going to be addicted to. You spared Steve from hearing that, though.

“Let me look at you,” you requested, and he turned you back to him. “Make me come, daddy.”

He let his hand slide down to your neck, fingers curling just slightly as his hips began to steadily move. His cock drove in and out of your pussy, the wet noise of it echoing around the whole room.

Your head was already swimming, perhaps the concept that people were watching you get fucked. People, even if they weren’t real, were watching Steve play your body like an instrument he’d known his whole life.

Eyes locked on yours, he fucked you until you were both coming together. His hips were erratic as soon as you tightened around him. He pleaded with you to wait for him, and you held on for as long as you could.

He squeezed his hand tight as soon as you opened your mouth to scream. Your orgasm was built up by him choking you, and the strangled sounds you made went straight to his cock. You felt him spill into you and your eyes rolled back. That was a feeling you would never tire of.

He was still hard as he pulled out, some of his cum dripping down his length. He took himself in his hand and rubbed his cum all over your stomach, leaving your skin sticky.

You smiled. “Thank you, daddy.”

He leaned over you, reaching for your hands. “I’m gonna let you loose a little.” Your wrists were still wrapped together but you could now bring your arms down just a little. You could grab what you wanted and that was his intent.

“You still good?”

“Yes.”

“Remember…”

“Your name,” you confirmed.

“We’re gonna take it easy for a minute, okay? Two at a time sound good?”

“Yeah.” You’d never been fucked by two men at one time, and you had been sure it was never going to happen. When you met Steve, you knew you were done. You knew that you could never again touch another man or let them touch you. But there you were, and he wanted this almost as much as you. He wanted to watch you enjoy yourself and you just had to remember that.

He stepped off the table and moved off to the side. “We’re going to start with the lawyers.”

You turned your head as Mike Weiss and Andy Barber moved from their places against the wall. Mike was more confident; he went straight to the end of the table and began moving his pants out of the way.

Andy was less confident, unsure of what to do. You grabbed his belt and pulled him toward you. Mike got up on the table, his hands sliding up your thighs as neared your pussy. You turned down to watch him, shivering. He didn’t feel like Steve and you couldn’t help but notice.

“It’s okay, baby,” Steve promised. “Just let it happen. It’ll stop being so weird soon enough.”

You looked at him briefly and he nodded reassuringly. Your hands began working Andy’s belt open, but you turned back to Mike. He had one hand around his thick cock as he moved it closer to your entrance. You watched as he slipped into you, mouth dropped as you reveled in every inch that filled you up.

You impatiently yanked Andy’s pants down when you could and turned up as he pulled himself out of his boxers. It was big enough that your mouth instinctively fell open, desperate to choke on him. He was so slow about sliding in, eyes never leaving your face.

Mike pulled out until just the head of his cock was inside you and thrust back in quickly. You moaned around Andy’s cock and he let out a shaky breath. His hands closed around your breasts just as Mike’s fingers found your clit.

You were whining and whimpering already, bobbing your head up and down Andy’s length while Mike touched the most sensitive part of you. His cock felt like it was getting deeper and deeper, hitting a spot inside you that was making your vision blur each time.

Andy’s fingers began pinching at your nipples until it was painful. That was all Steve, he always loved doing that to you. Then one of his hands whipped across your breast sharply, noisily. You whined around him and so he did it again.

Mike angled his hand so he could slap his fingers against your cunt, an unbearable amount of pressure on your clit. Your eyes filled with tears, your body shaking with your approaching orgasm.

Andy alternated between squeezing and slapping your skin, never moving his hips. He let you work his cock freely, sighing when you took him down your throat, grunting when you teased him by sucking just the tip of him between your lips.

Mike moaned shamelessly as your cunt tightened around him. He fucked you faster, hitting you harder until you were practically sobbing. He timed it correctly, smacking your clit each time he wanted your hips to jerk so he could slide in even deeper.

You finished while you were choking on Andy’s cock, your overwhelmed cries of pleasure an added sensation for him. Mike followed soon after, keeping himself buried in you as he rubbed his fingers around your clit. You shuddered the entire time, aftershocks wracking your whole body.

Andy was next, pulling out of your mouth and stroking himself until his cum painted your breasts. He quickly gathered some of it on the tips of his fingers, leaning down as he shoved them into your mouth.

And before you could even gain your composure, they were switching positions. Andy took your hips carefully, slipping into you with consideration for how sensitive he knew you would be.

You threw your head back, whining.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve wondered.

“No, no. I’m okay,” you promised. It took you a moment to adjust to Andy, but he was patient. You turned your head and Mike touched your face. He moved your hair away from your eyes and traced your features until you looked up at him.

“Open up, sweetheart.”

You did so immediately.

He pressed the head of his cock against your tongue and slid in until you gagged. You could easily identify the taste of Steve’s cum that had been left in your pussy.

Andy reached under your body and held your ass for leverage, pounding into you. Your core ached but you craved so much more. Steve knew how to fuck you all night, he knew how to pace himself. These men had no idea about your body at all, they were just using you. Though you didn’t want this often, you enjoyed being objectified like this.

Mike rocked his hips but never too hard, never enough to choke you. If you wanted that, you had to take as much of him as you could. He hissed curses each time, brushing his fingers through your hair and touching your cheek. “Just like, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

You stared up at him until he was coming down your throat. He held a handful of your hair, but you moved up and down, despite the pull you felt on your scalp. Of course, he didn’t taste like Steve, but you didn’t dwell on that. He was the one who pulled away and began getting redressed as you turned down to Andy.

He pulled his hands out from under you and set them higher up on the table. His body hovered over yours and you longed to be able to touch him. You figured that was what Steve wanted to avoid in tying you up. Regardless of this, he was such a possessive man.

His hips moved sharply, always making it hurt at least a little. As you neared your end, you arched your back and he sat up once more to grab your breasts. He squeezed them tight, smacked them now and then, yanked on your nipples incessantly until you were screaming and coming.

This time he finished inside you and you shivered. The thought of every single man in the room leaving their cum inside was filthy and you wanted it so badly it hurt. Your gaze followed him as he pulled out and readjusted his clothing, head turning to see him take his place at the wall again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want some alone time with that one?” Steve asked.

Smirking, you turned back to him. “Jealous yet, daddy?”

“Not at all.” He made his way to your side, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “And are you still okay?”

You nodded.

“Ready for another round?”

“Yes, please.”

He hummed, glancing over the wall as he moved back. “I guess the psychopaths are up.”

“Don’t call them that,” you feigned offense.

He rolled his eyes. “We need to talk about your sexual interests later.”

Ransom walked right up to you, one hand grabbing your jaw and the other pulling his cock out. He pulled you onto him immediately, groaning as he felt your throat struggling around him.

Robert did the same with your pussy, with no hesitation or sensitivity. He was slow enough about it, but you knew that we because he was teasing you not because he wanted to let you get used to him.

They kept you full for a moment, completely buried in your mouth and cunt. You were choking loudly, hips squirming at the sting, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, they both pulled out. You laid there, gasping and shaking, and they simply watched. You briefly wondered how much of this was you and how much of it was Steve. Did he want to watch you get used by two cruel, violent men?

Together, they fucked your mouth and pussy. They thrust in together, pulled out together, and both decided when soft and slow weren’t working anymore. They were merciless and neither one finished until you were crying and sweating. Tears stained your face, drool was everywhere, and every time Robert let you down on the table, you felt how wet you’d managed to get it.

Ransom was first. He held you down until you swallowed all his cum, and then pulled out and moved down to your breasts. He had to wait until Robert was done, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun. He jerked himself off, tapping the head of his cock against your breasts.

You had come twice when Robert finally finished. He pulled out and leaned down just to firmly lick over your clit. You shuddered, a surprised squeal tearing from your throat. You were exhausted and it was clear, but that didn’t stop either of them.

“Baby?” Steve checked.

“No,” was all you said before you opened your mouth for Robert. He placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down onto him roughly. You gagged hard enough that your entire body moved. It was something that made his eyes light up, something he would make you do again.

Ransom rubbed his fingers over your clit until you were just about to finish then completely backed off. Since your mouth was full, you couldn’t even complain. Not when he did it the second time or the third time. And your scream was muffled when he took you so close that fourth time and instead of making you come, shoved his cock into your clenching center.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You are so tight, gorgeous.” He set his hand to your stomach and fucked you hard. Your body was sliding against the leather, constantly pulled down by the ropes at your ankles. You were never able to get too far from Ransom.

Robert was harsher as his finish approached. He had you gagging and choking, drooling all over his cock. “Keep your mouth wide for me, honey.”

You did so, staying as open as you could. He would pull out all the way just to shove back in until your nose was pressing into his pelvis. The wet noises of your throat filled the room, even louder than your soaking cunt Ransom was pounding into.

Robert pulled out of your mouth and walked around the table until he reached your hands. You knew what he wanted right away and circled both hands around his length. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. “Open.”

You did even though you knew Steve wouldn’t like what was coming next. He spit into your mouth and you eagerly swallowed. Then you rolled your head back and kept your mouth open for his cum as he fucked your hands. His cum poured out from his cock, most landing in your mouth or on your jaw.

Ransom was close but insisted on dragging it out. He would pull his cock out and smack it against your clit before thrusting back in completely, over and over, until both of you were orgasming.

At this time, Robert was licking your face to gather up all of his cum. Again, he spit all of it into your open mouth. Once both men left you to return to their spots at the wall, Steve was at your side.

“Are you serious?”

You scoffed weakly. “Who next?”

“So, can I spit it your mouth or is that just a thing you let murderers do?”

You opened your mouth instead of offering a spoken answer.

He sighed. “Doesn’t count after he did it. I’ll try it later.”

“Who next? I do have a preference. Like, if you wanted any suggestions.”

He merely rolled his eyes and moved away as Ari Levinson and Colin Shea came closer to you. Ari moved to the foot of the table, but Colin leaned over you in your side, lips crashing down on yours.

Steve was stunned silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. Not that that stopped the man from shoving his tongue down your throat. “Okay, that stops now, or this entire thing stops.”

Colin pulled back, smirking smugly.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Doll,” Steve scolded.

“I didn’t know he was going to kiss me!” you defended. Before the conversation could get much further, Colin had his cock out. He tapped it along your jaw until you stuck your tongue out.

Ari had climbed onto the table, but he wasn’t inside you. Not yet. Instead, he leaned over you, starting with kissing your neck and moving down your throat to your collarbone, your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples and then the curve of your breasts, your ribs, down the center of your stomach, under your navel, all around your cunt, but never right there.

Finally, he pressed his cock into you, and you hummed around Colin. “Fuck,” they both sighed. You would have had the same reaction if you could have.

Ari didn’t want to waste time, he wanted to see you come. As his hips moved, he massaged gentle circles around your clit. You were already sensitive because of your last orgasms but this man knew just how to touch you. He was using the right pace and pressure, so you figured that was Steve’s doing, not yours.

But any time Ari was close, his hips would still, and he would use his fingers to get you off. He liked feeling your pussy coming around him, and his goal was to make it happen as many times as he possibly could.

Colin was enjoying your mouth, letting you bob your head back and forth on your own. He liked watching your eyes, they moved between his cock and his face. “You’re doing so well, babe.” And when your eyes flickered up to him in surprise, he knew he’d caught something. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, and you’re taking my cock so well. Such a good girl.”

Ari used all the time he could, paying attention to Colin as well. He wasn’t moving until Colin needed to fuck you, and both men seemed happy making this last as long as they could. He made you come so many times you lost count, but you figured Steve would let you know later.

You wondered how many good-girl points you’d lost. He would undoubtedly be bending you over his knee and smacking your ass until it was sore, but how many times did he plan on doing it? You were guessing at least three situations he would feel it was warranted.

When Ari was coming, he grabbed onto your hips desperately. You felt his eyes on your face even though you couldn’t look at him. He held you tight as he was coming down, slowly thrusting his hips, making sure to reach that deep spot inside you.

Colin only grabbed your hair when he was finishing. He yanked you back, angling your head, and fucked your mouth until he had come back down. The entire time, Ari thumbed at your clit gently.

When they switched positions, you had the overwhelming desire to kiss Ari. Steve had shaved his beard off so long ago and if you sent him the right puppy-eyes look…

“Fine,” he sighed. “Never shaving again,” but he muttered that to himself.

Ari dropped down to his knees and kissed you eagerly. You felt his beard pricking at your skin and couldn’t help but smile. Damn. You missed Steve’s beard.

Colin used his fingers to spread your cunt wide open, groaning as he watched his cock disappear inside you. Relentlessly, he fucked you, and you were pathetically loud because there wasn’t a cock in your mouth shutting you up.

Ari touched your face and your breasts, and you reveled in how rough his hands felt against your skin. He pulled away and kissed all over your face before he stood up.

You took in as much of him as you could, which was a lot since you’d had your throat stretched impossibly the entire night. But you still gagged and because Ari was much sweeter than the rest, he took it slow after that. He didn’t necessarily want to hear you gag, he liked it of course, but he wanted you to enjoy sucking his cock.

And you did. You had your lips wrapped around him the whole time, pulling back slow, dripping back down the same way. Your eyes were locked on his and this man looked wrecked. His fingertips ran along your face and he whispered curses and nonsense about your beauty.

Colin set his fingers to your clit when he was close. It took you there almost instantly and he didn’t care. He continued fucking you, the noise of it louder with his cum added into the mix. You were overflowing with it by now, and you still wanted so much more. He didn’t mind that you were shuddering and whining, and Ari liked the vibrations of it, too. Colin just kept moving until Ari finished with a soft moan.

Nick Vaughn and Frank Adler were next. You were shivering over the mere thought of these soft men. As soon as Colin and Ari had left your side, they were right there.

Frank started at your mouth. He lifted his cock, and you showered his sac with attention. He used his free hand to fondle your breasts. Nick was kissing your legs. He had his hands settled on your knees before he let them slide up, along with his lips. He let them graze your skin until he reached your core. He kissed all around your sensitive skin, but never right there.

You hadn’t noticed at first, but he untied your legs and brought them up as he got on the table. He bent your knees, setting your feet flat on the leather and gently sunk into you. Your legs pressed against his sides before winding around him and hooking at the ankles.

Only when Frank finally let you have his cock did he also start untying you. As you struggled to hold his entire length in your mouth, he was pulling your arms down, but kept your wrists tied. He kissed your hands and arms all over as he used your mouth.

They let their hands wander your entire body. You didn’t know which one was where, but your breasts were never neglected, your clit was constantly stimulated, and your finish happened in record time.

They were so unlike the rest, even unlike Steve, they finished so quietly, so slowly. It was the gentlest you had ever been fucked and you liked it, of course, but when this was all over, you were going to beg Steve to give it to you hard until you were crying and couldn’t walk straight.

They traded places and you swallowed Nick’s cock eagerly, still high on your orgasm. You reached for him blindly and he took your hands in his. He kissed your fingers as you worked.

Frank slammed into you painfully and you moaned loudly. He carefully pulled you down to the edge of the table and Nick followed, his cock never once leaving your mouth. Frank pulled your calves over his shoulders, grabbed your thighs, and fucked you hard and loud and desperately. Slapping skin, your soaking cunt, they were both softly groaning, and you were certain you were fucking dying. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had been fucked too many times, you couldn’t handle another orgasm.

But Frank tore it out of you and all the noise you made coaxed Nick to an easy finish, was then they both started to kiss you again. Frank pulled out of you first, then Nick, and you dipped your fingers into your cunt, cum just poured out of you.

“Put them in your mouth,” Steve ordered, and you did so instantly. You hummed, noisily sucking your fingers clean. It tasted weird, so many unfamiliar men, but you could still pick out Steve’s taste. His cum still lingered inside you and you loved that.

Frank began picking you up off the table. You were confused for a moment before he sat down where you had been and pulled you back down on his cock.

“Daddy?” you called out. Was he okay with this next part?

“It’s okay, angel. Unless you need a minute.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Frank laid back and you began to unbutton his shirt. It was a hard task with bound hands, so he eventually took pity on you and did it himself.

You heard Nick getting undressed as well but until he was behind you, you had not put two and two together.

“This is okay?” Steve checked again, just to be safe.

“Yes,” you squeaked. The head of Nick’s cock touched your asshole and you stilled completely. Almost effortlessly, he pushed into you, unrealistic, but the feeling was too good to complain. God, you would never be able to adequately repay Wanda.

Nick grabbed one side of your hip, Frank the other, and they pulled down hard, away from the other. It was like they were fighting, struggling to keep you closer to them and only them.

You couldn’t process anything other than how full you felt. You were aching and overused, but you couldn’t even attempt to form the words that you needed a break. Your mind wanted one, but your body was still painfully desperate for more.

You finished hard, your entire body tensing, and something just snapped. It felt just like any other orgasm, but as you settled on Frank’s lap, you felt how wet he was. Everything was a blur as they pulled out of you and you were waiting for the next pair.

Ari was already naked when he carefully urged you off the table. You let your hands touch his stomach first and he let you have your fun as he set his ass just on the edge of the table. His cock was still hard, and he easily worked your legs over his hips until you were standing on your toes, trying to stay there because it already hurt how deep inside you he was.

He took pity on you, grasping your ass and spreading you open. You leaned forward just slightly and he kissed you. That was not your plan, you simply needed to place your hands on the table for balance, but you had zero complaints.

Of course, Colin, practically a frat bro, wanted to fuck your ass. You swore he was harder than before as you felt him shoving his cock inside you. You moaned into Ari’s mouth and his hips jumped up just a little. You cried out but he continued to do it several more times before Colin’s pelvis was pressed flush to your ass.

They held you in place as they fucked you. It wasn’t like the last time, slow, aching, fucking passionate. This was torture, they were using you and you couldn’t get away, not that you could make yourself want to, not that these sensations weren’t driving you insane.

Colin grabbed your hair and pulled you back, turning your head to him so he could stare into your eyes. “Your ass is so tight, baby.”

All you could do is whimper.

“Is he making you feel good?” Steve questioned.

“Yes.”

“Tell him. Tell him how much you like his cock.”

“Your cock feels so good,” you blurted out.

Colin kissed the side of your face. “I know.”

“It’s so fucking big,” you asserted, very much sounding like you were pouting about it.

“What about the other one?” Steve encouraged.

You faced Ari again, his eyes were washing over your whole body hungrily. You touched his torso again, his chest and his abs. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded quickly. “Like having you in my pussy.”

Your next orgasm was no gentler than the last. It was numbing and overwhelming, but you knew that you were nowhere near done. You were on your knees on the table, waiting for the next two men. Your cunt was dripping with all the cum that had been poured into you and you were sweating and shaking.

“Want a break now?”

“No.”

“The psychopaths are next,” he pointed out.

“No,” you insisted.

Ransom grabbed you first, turning you over so that you were sitting again. “You should probably listen to him.”

You shook your head.

He smirked and pulled you off, forcing you to stand. He never let you go because he worried you would fall, but he enjoyed seeing how shaky your legs were. He sat down and turned you away from him. “Sit on my cock, baby girl.”

You carefully situated yourself over his lap and despite his directions, he helped you a lot. He pressed into you initially but reveled in you sliding down the rest of the way until you were flat against him. He spread your legs and Robert immediately moved in. He filled you up quickly, and you were suddenly so impossibly full again. It didn’t matter that this was the third time, it was devastating, and you were exhausted and aching.

Ransom stood with you, forcing you closer to Robert. You started at his hair, grabbing handfuls, and yanking him in for a kiss. Ransom moved your hair out of his way and began biting one side of your neck and the shoulder nearest. They fucked you without rhythm or cohesion, they fucked you like they were competing.

“Tell them you’re enjoying yourself, doll,” Steve reminded.

Ransom pulled you back against his chest, hands grabbing at your breasts again. “Yeah, am I big?”

You whimpered and nodded.

He slammed into you harder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So big. I don’t think anything else could fit.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he muttered.

You didn’t have the mind to question him. You simply turned forward.

Robert smirked. “You like my cock, princess?”

You nodded fast, grabbing his hand to bring his fingers to your clit. “Make me come around your cock. Please make me come.”

Both men became even more unhinged. You hadn’t thought that was possible. They trapped you between their bodies and all you could do was take it. You had to take Ransom mercilessly fucking your ass, Robert rubbing your clit and cruelly fucking your pussy even as it got tighter. You screamed so loud that by the time you all finished, your voice was hoarse.

But oh, they were not done with you. Ransom pulled you onto the table with him, Robert’s cock slipping out. Both men were amused by your sad whimper. Ransom yanked legs open for Robert. “You heard her. She thinks nothing else can fit.”

Holy fuck, he did not mean…

Robert stepped closer, hand resting against your cunt as he began forcing his cock into your ass, next to Ransom’s.

“Relax, baby,” Steve said. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

You were on fire as soon as the tip of his cock was inside you. You were shaking and panting, and you felt possessed. It was horrifying how badly you wanted him to keep going, until he was buried in you. With every push forward, every additional inch he fed you, you thought you would pass out. You’d never felt pleasure so intense.

As soon as his cock was settled deep inside you, they were moving. They were thrusting in and out of you and you were coming almost immediately. Your cunt was clenching around nothing, so desperate for a cock. Both Ransom and Robert were abruptly happy your pussy had been neglected because on one particularly good thrust, your pussy wept, leaving both men drenched.

“Fuck, baby,” Robert muttered, reaching out to touch your face. You touched his body, hands grazing his stomach, his ass, up his back, down his shoulders.

“Think you can do that again?” Ransom inquired.

You shook your head, unable to form words.

He hummed. “Don’t sell yourself short, I think you can.” He moved you up by the hips and you cried out when you were suddenly left empty. Ransom quickly replaced three of his fingers in your ass, shushing you as you squeaked and whined unintelligibly. He took his cock in his other hand and shoved it into your pussy.

Your eyes widened as Robert stepped in again. Oh fuck, you were already shivering and throbbing with the desire to have your cunt as full as they just had your ass.

He wasn’t slow about this, and you were wet enough that it didn’t hurt as much as the last time. Again, their cocks moved in and out of your hole, and with Ransom’s fingers still working you, you knew he was going to make it happen.

You’d squirted several times and Steve fucking loved it, but it was a mystery to you both how it happened. He never could quite master controlling it. But you felt that familiar pressure in your stomach just piling up so high until you burst, and your pussy once again made a huge mess everywhere.

Ransom laid you out carefully on the table as they were departing. He kissed your face all over and told you how much he liked fucking all three of your holes. You suddenly realized that Steve had taken this over long ago and his fake jealousy was just an act so you wouldn’t suspect him. You only had so long to plot revenge before you were occupied once more.

Andy picked you up gently, making sure he had you held tightly as he situated himself under you. You were straddling his cock when Mike grabbed your hips and shoved himself into your ass. One hand settled around your neck and he used the other to press you down onto Andy’s length.

Andy lifted onto his elbows to watch your breasts bounce as they both drove their cocks in fast. Mike held you against him but that didn’t stop you from reaching out to Andy. You just wanted to touch him.

“This one is so fucking pretty,” you whined to Steve.

He rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until the three of you had come that you had a brilliant idea. “Can I ride his beautiful face, daddy?”

“Yes.”

You hurriedly climbed up the table and Andy yanked you down by your hips. You screamed, throwing your head back as his tongue met your throbbing clit.

Steve quickly made his way to your side to make sure you stayed up. You kissed him as soon as he was in your reach. You thrust your hips over Andy’s face, moaning loudly into Steve’s mouth.

He grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his cock. You pulled away to turn down, wanting to watch as he finished. He took your opposite hand and directed it to Mike’s cock.

Mike leaned in, kissing the side of your face and grunting against your skin.

“On your back,” Steve told you.

Slowly, he helped you lean down until you were laid out on top of Andy. That gorgeous man with his gorgeous mouth and beard was still eating you out like his life depended on it.

With your hands full, Steve had to take over just a little. He turned your head and worked Andy’s cock into your mouth. As you grew closer to your end, you became aware of all the men surrounding you, stroking their cocks, all wanting to paint your skin with their cum.

When you came back to reality, you were aching, your skin was wet, and your center was throbbing.

“Baby?” Steve called out.

You turned your body to the sound of his voice and instinctively reached out to him. You whimpered as soon as your hand found his face. What the fuck was this? You were surprised to feel him hard against your stomach.

He sat up, looking around until he found Wanda.

She was looking everywhere but the two of you. “So yeah, this kind of happens. Your mind felt all of that and that’s why your body thinks it felt all of it…but it didn’t and now she just needs to be fucked.”

You laid flat on your back, reaching out to Steve again. He took your hand, but he hesitated in moving any closer.

“So, my work is done, I’ll be going now.” She moved to the door quickly.

“You don’t have to,” Steve claimed.

She froze, eyes wide as she looked back at him.

He gestured to you. “You could taste the mess you made. She honestly does have the sweetest pussy.”

Her mouth opened to respond but quickly shut. She glanced down at you, eyebrows pulling together.

You had never discussed adding anyone else in the bedroom but fuck, Wanda? She was beautiful… Maybe Steve knew about more of your fantasies than he told you about. It hurt like hell, but you lifted your hips and tore your underwear down.

Wanda only contemplated for several more seconds before she was charging back to the bed. She threw herself over you immediately, arms wrapping under and over your thighs so she could spread you wide.

You screamed as soon as her lips touched you. This was what it felt like when Steve edged you after you misbehaved, but he’d only ever held out for an hour. This felt like a god damn year.

Your hands buried in her hair and you pulled her in as close as you could get her. Your hips bucked desperately and all she did was lap and suck at your cunt until you were coming.

All Steve could do was admire the scene. Even though it was a very short scene.

She pulled away as you were coming down, wiping her mouth and not meeting your eye.

“You want to fuck her?” Steve asked.

She looked at him with her wide eyes again. “Oh, I don’t know…”

You sat up and she turned to you. “I want you to. If you want to.”

She looked surprised for a moment. “I…I haven’t been like this with anyone since…yeah.”

You crawled down the bed until you could set yourself on her lap. She wrapped her arms around you, and you suddenly fell in love with Steve even more. He must have known how badly Wanda was craving intimacy and knew just the way to get her to a position where she felt safe with the two of you.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” you said.

She stared at you for a moment before she leaned in. She wasn’t just moving slow, she was moving slow, and all you could do was sit there and wait until her lips were finally touching yours.

You tasted yourself in the kiss and maybe that made you just a little less patient. You grabbed her hair again and used your body to push hers down. With you on top, you never broke the kiss, but you did begin to undress her.

She helped with her pants and underwear, and you settled your center against hers. She cried out, hands grabbing hard at your ass. She let her head fall back and you kissed and bit at her neck.

Steve sat down next to the two of you and moved your bra out of his way.

She was the one that started moving first. She pinned you against her and her hips began to angle upward against you.

“You’re so wet,” you gasped.

She smiled briefly before she moaned. “Think that’s you, babe.”

Okay, probably. You used your forearms for balance, staring down at her as she continued rubbing her pussy against yours. “You’re beautiful.”

She stopped for a moment, surprised once again, before smiling appreciatively. “You are beautiful.”

You scoffed. “No, Steve is beautiful.”

She snorted. “Guess we’re gonna have to let him in soon, huh?”

“Yeah, probably,” you said, pretending it was such a painful idea. “But you can finish first.”

She hummed and then she was moving again. It took a few minutes, you were sure you were the first woman Wanda had ever been with, but eventually, she found the correct position to get stimulation for her clit and yours.

She finished first, her eyes filling with tears as she stared up at you. You couldn’t imagine her pain, the idea of losing Steve… You thought Wanda was the strongest person alive because if you had lost your soul mate, you would have given up. She was so strong, and she was still here, still trying her best.

“Wanda, I love you.”

She smiled between her heaving breaths. “I love you, too.” She hummed before she leaned up to kiss you for just a moment. “Wanna come?”

You shook your head. “Nope, not yet.”

Her eyebrows pulled together but she understood as soon as you started kissing down her body. She parted her legs for you, closing her eyes and allowing herself to be swept up in all the sensations as soon as your mouth was working her cunt.

“Did you need a mailed invitation, Rogers?” she wondered.

Steve snapped into action then. “Excuse me, it looked like you two had it handled.”

You knew what was coming, but even that couldn’t prepare you for the sheer relief of finally being full of Steve’s cock.

He groaned. “Jesus, baby, you already going to come?”

You hummed back, not intending to give a real answer.

Wanda liked you moaning into her folds, sighing, whimpering, licking as you tried to regain composure. And she loved you staring up at her as you did it all.

Steve fucked you slow. Yes, he wanted to please you like he never had before, especially after having to watch different men touch you. But he knew you. He knew how kindhearted you were and how much you loved your friends, and this was about Wanda. He could fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name tomorrow.

So, he paid attention. He touched you just enough to keep you on the edge of pleasure but didn’t make you come until you had given Wanda so many orgasms that she was shaking. The sweet girl would never be able to push you away, so it was Steve that had to call it a night. After making you come, he pulled out and settled down on the bed by Wanda.

You arched an eyebrow at him once you’d come down.

He crooked his finger at you.

Smiling, you quickly dove between Steve and Wanda. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you threw one of your legs between his because you liked when he ended up wrapped around you in his sleep. You reached out to Wanda and she rolled onto her side facing you. She looked unsure for a moment, but you were just so damn loving, how could she possibly leave? She laid her head on your stomach, an arm curling around your hips. You let one of your hands brush through her hair, smiling when you felt her lay a small kiss against your abdomen.

You turned up to Steve, it felt wrong to say the words given that Wanda was here still in pain from her loss, but he knew. He had seen that look on your face many times, of course, he knew that you loved him.

He nodded.

You smiled at him before turning back down to take his hand that was hovering over your chest and kissed his knuckles.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks @sweet-pieces-of-nothing

#steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #mike weiss x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #robert pronge x reader #ari levinson x reader #colin shea x reader #frank adler x reader #nick vaughan x reader #my writing

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

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okay as a chubby girl myself I struggle with how I see myself and this idea makes my heart KSHDHSJS

okay so imagine IMAGINE

Request maybe 🤔🤔🤔

Okay,, you’re standing in the mirror yk in your mirror at technos house/cottage in your underwear and stuff, grabbing at the chub and stuff looking upset and not feeling good about yourself, and techno walking into the room and seeing this. yk him being upset that you feel that way Bc he thinks youre just so pretty 🥺.

IT COULD EITHER GO INTO A SMUT( 😏 where he SHOWS you how much he loves you and how pretty he thinks you are in the mirror) OR FLUFF WITH SOFT WORDS AND CUDDLES or both idk

*slams hand on desk* IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS

I went with both, because I like options. I also based this off a little personal feelings so I hope it works!

My Goddess- Technoblade

Warnings: self conscious reader, swearing, NSFW

The mirror. Your best, but worst nightmare imaginable. Some days you could look into it and see beauty within your curves. Spend endless minutes hyping yourself up. 'Man I look good' 'I am the fucking shit' 'damn look at that' all little things you tell yourself in pride. Because in those moments, you feel powerful. In those moments you feel like you own the world, that others are just lucky to breathe within your presence.

However, there are bad days. There are days when looking into the mirror brings shame. Days when all you can do is grab at your stomach, and ponder of what you could have done, or what you will do. Its pressed that everyone is perfect in our own imaginable ways. Yet when you look at others, you cant help but be envious. Others can get away with wearing tight clothing, baggy clothing, any type of clothing. Yet when you try it on all you see is a box, if you wear tight clothing, every roll and muffin top pops out. It can be embarrassing.

Techno never saw your curves as embarrassing however. He loved them. He loved the plush, soft skin of your tummy or your thighs. Your hips? don't even ask what he thought on hips, as long as they were yours. They were perfect.

With that said, when he saw you saddened about your form he was slightly hurt. You thought he was beautiful, a hybrid of a monster. But yet you couldn't find the beauty within your rolls? Your plump little form? The very thing that made up you? If he ever found out who planted these seeds of lies in your mind, he would have words.

If you felt confident enough to take the world by the horns, he let you. He would build you up with sweet words of encouragement. 'Well don't you look amazing...' 'you are looking beautiful as ever'. They were small phrases but they meant a lot to you.

Techno isn't verbal with his love, or compliments really. He chooses to show it, words are just that. Words. Actions are done, are shown. They are physically put into motion. That's why he prefers it. But he also understands sometimes words are needed. They are needed to ease your nerves and doubtful mind.

when he catches you glaring at your plump form in the mirror, he cant help but quickly move to your side. Kneeling and kissing up your body. Your arms, your thighs, everything. In the beginning he would let you look away. The idea of someone liking your body type left you uncertain, many times you would ponder if his endless kisses were done as a joke. But each and every time he would reassure you that it was real. That him loving you, loving your body. It wasn't in pity, it was in genuine love.

Tonight was one of those bad nights. With Techno in the bath, you were left to change for bed. Wait for him to come out, and then cuddle the night away until the sun kissed the horizon.

But well you changed your eyes fell to the mirror. Your eyes casually roamed your body. You were used to looking at it so nothing stood out of course. But as you shifted, you caught a few stretch marks within the candle light. They looked like streaks of lightning that were dragged across your skin. With a quick glance away, you pulled something over your form. Wanting to cover your body and deal with that mental baggage later.

Of course the Hybrid that stood tall within the door frame held other ideas about that moment. The one thing that always put you at ease was Techno's size. Before you were in a relationship with him, you feared you wouldn't be able to wear your lovers clothing. Being a bit plumper meant "one size fit all" did not fit all. But luckily, with your roughly 6ish/7ish foot Piglin Hybrid of a lover, all of his clothing was a bit baggy on you. Technoblade was a very Built man, this came from his never ending training and his natural born strength of course. But even with him being built and big, the first time he asked you to sit on his lap had you hesitant. What if he found you too heavy? The idea of him asking you to move off would leave you completely mentally ruined. Of course when you finally sat he didn't utter any words besides praises. His hands running gently over your thighs, with a tight grasp he kept you close. When Techno saw you ease into his lap more often, he took pride in knowing you were comfortable enough to do it on a daily basis. That was when he upped the bar again. The day he asked you to sit on his face was the day you had a heart attack. You were so paranoid you would crush him. Of course he was all bemused smirks well you tried to think of excuses. Yet this man was able to ease your nerves and reassure you until you were comfortable once again. You would never forget how giddy he was to be between your thighs. That was the day he found his favorite spot.

Before you could ease some bottoms over your underwear, this man had his arms around you. Pushing against your hands. His nose was nuzzled into your neck muttering gently "Please, leave them off for now..." with a brow raised you complied. You let the shorts drop to the floor, assuming you would be coming for them in a brief moment. You could smell the lingering sent from his shampoo. The fresh smell giving you great comfort.

Techno moved you back to face the mirror, his head moving briefly so he could see you face yourself. With a light stubble scratching against your neck you felt the goosebumps rise. Your eyes met his ruby ones within the mirror. "Do you know, how beautiful you are?..." he asked rhetorically. Dragging out the words that he felt were important. You wanted to say no, but knew he wouldn't want that answer.

"I think I'm alright..." you said softly. He hummed and pressed a loving kiss to your neck. His hands slowly fell down to the buttons of the shirt you were wearing. Skillfully he undid them without thought. When you had pulled a shirt on you didn't think much, but now saw that it was his you wore. Of course he didn't mind, he never minded.

With the buttons undone he opened the shirt to expose your naked form. Every curve and roll on sweet display for him "You are beyond 'alright'... alright is basic. You know my goddess is beyond mortal definitions..." you gave a gentle smile at his charm, glancing away from his eyes. He didn't allow this tonight however. Instead he took your jaw and gently redirected it to the mirror. Meeting his gaze again.

"My love... My goddess, you know your body rivals the gods, yes?..." you slightly shrugged, unsure if this was true. With another loving kiss he continued. "Persephone had rolls... She was just as plump as you my love..." you fallowed his eyes gently. Him comparing you to the beautiful goddess left you feeling better. If someone so divine could have rolls why couldn't you?

He didn't stop there however. "If you cant see your beauty. Let me show you how beautiful you are..." his tone was pleading. Like a animal begging for spare scraps. You watched his eyes, his finger and thumb having control over your chin. You thought on his words and gave a brief nod to him. Trusting him and whatever he had planned.

Instead of immediately kissing you all over, he pulled away. Firmly telling you to keep your eyes on the mirror. You felt a bit awkward standing there, your legs shifting closer underneath you. He soon came back however, his crown in hand. You could also see he had a simple gray towel around his waist, showing he was fresh from the bath.

Your curiosity with the crown lingered, but you watched as he put it on your head. "You are a queen... My Queen... You will always be reminded of your everlasting beauty for as long as you are with me..." for not complementing a lot, tonight he was on a roll. Your eyes ran over the crown. The delicate and bright stones contrasting the shimmering gold well against your skin.

He walked around to the front of you, leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss. His hand found a firm places on your hip, and on the plush skin of your ass cheek. With a gentle, but firm grasp he moved and rolled the skin beneath his hand. Loving how soft you were. With his hands working soft whimpers and moans out of you, his mouth devoured them. Eating every noise you made, cherishing them deep within his heart.

Leaving your lips swollen he moved down. Kissing your jaw and neck. Planning to leave you a work of art. A show of how much he loves you.

After your neck it was your chest. Soft plump breasts fitting ever so sweetly within his hands. With firm grasps he had you flushed red whimpering. Your eyes half lidded with the sweet lingering pleasure. Yet you still watched yourself and him, knowing to not disobey him.

With soft kisses placed to the tops of your breasts and nipples he moved to your stomach. This is where you craved to look away. Wishing to hide yourself in his neck.

"T..T-Techno..." he hummed acknowledging your words. But he still pressed light kisses down to the hem of your underwear.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror." He said, pulling them down. Helping you step out of the discarded clothing. You couldn't see his face. Only his backside was facing the mirror, and even then his long wet hair hid most of his toned back.

His fingers ran through your slit briefly. His rings offered a major temperature difference between your heat and the cold metal. With a little squirm his hands moved and held you in place. Desiring to keep you in place before he moved his head in and started to devour you. Eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.

With a ever so sinful cry, you gripped at his hair. Begging for your knee's to not give out. With one hand on his head, the other one flew to the crown on your head. Trying to keep it on well you easily hunched over from the overwhelming pleasure. Techno never failed to leave you speechless- or should we say, he never left you quiet. Even if you could see yourself, you didn't think you would be able to focus much. Your eyes were tightly shut well your mouth ran between being in a 'O' and being locked shut.

He did pull back from your folds to speak. Earning a cry from you. You were getting close and him pulling away was painful. "You can cum. But you have to keep your eyes open" you nodded profusely. Agreeing to anything if it meant feeling his lips back on you. He lingering a moment. Making sure your eyes opened before he leaned back. Taking his time to show your clit attention before going back to his main course.

With your eyes looking back at you. You were unsure if you were ashamed with how blissed out you looked or happy. The whole scene in itself was erotic. You were incredibly small compared to the giant between your legs. His only drive to please you completely. Your eyes never left the mirror as he ate you out to your climax. Your hips stuttering and bucking, but proving no use to his iron grip. When you came he waisted no time at cleaning it up. He had no shame, that your cum was running down his chin. He was happy when you were pleased. And he knows you are definitely pleased after that climax.

But he wasn't finished. With your legs weakening he helped you down onto his lap. He let you collect yourself against his chest for a few moments his hand ran over your back.

"Doin' ok there Princess?..." you nodded slowly. Your chest rising and falling fast well you try and calm yourself. "Think you can do one more?" You nodded again well he pressed a kiss to your forehead, acknowledging your response. Adjusting his crown on your head, he moved so the mirror was beside you two. Showing both of your bodies, with the towel acting as a thin barrier.

When you both were situated he did remove the towel. With a strong arm he lifted you up and positioned his hardened cock at your entrance, wasting no spare moment to fill you up. Well you did try to hide within his neck, it proved no use. He made sure to turn your head to the mirror.

With your eyes hitting the mirror you saw how his head was beside yours. Your cheek was pressed to his chest well his was pressed to your forehead. His eyes lingeried your body. Drowning in your blissed out form. He found you utterly perfect.

Well your bodies were connected, it almost looked like art. With techno's sharp gaze and your blissed out reddened cheeks, the contrast was there but yet they went together in perfect harmony. With the roll of his hips he made sure to keep your eyes on the mirror. Wanting to drag out every cry and moan you could utter. He set his pace at a rhythmic thrust, wanting to not only pleasure you, but himself as well. Well you griped to his sides, he kept his hand on he back of your head gently. Wanting to keep your head facing the mirror. With sweet sinful praises he coached you to a second orgasm, his fallowing close behind. He kissed your head gently, keeping you close to him well he felt himself soften. when his eyes met yours in the mirror he smiled softly.

“Look at how beautiful you are... Always so, so beautiful Princess...”

#saturnsdarkside #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #technoblade x reader smut #techno x reader smut #fanfic #fanfiction #tb

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king-star · 3 years

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hii! can you please make a natasha x reader fic where they both have been dating for a while and it's natasha's birthday and the reader surprises her with a brand new suit that she made herself and nat cries bc she never got a meaningful gift and the reader also surprises her with cake and more romantic gifts. you could make the reader tony's sister so it would make more sense that she's good at making suits but you don't have to!! thank you sm i need sum cute natty 😫

Birthday Suit

Warning: Use of the pet name Sunflower,

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: So this one was fun. I hate my birthday but this actually was cute. I’m trying a new way of presenting the dialogue. aesthetically it looks better but I’m not sure how it reads. I've seen other authors do the dialogue on completely seperate lines so just lmk if this is good.

Word Count: ~2.5 k

Summary: It’s Natasha's birthday, and despite her acting like she hates it you shower her with love.

The smell of cooking cake fills the compound. Even from the workshop, where you are, the sweet scent permeates the air. You have been baking for long enough to know what that smell means, the cake is almost done.

You check the clock on the wall. 2:44. Nat would be home at 5.

“Shit. I need to get this done,”

You shake your head and set down your wire cutters. The list of everything you need to get done before she arrives rolls through your mind.

It was her birthday. She didn’t know her actual birthday so years ago she made one up. The chosen date was a closely guarded secret she only shared with those she trusted most. For the most part the assassin didn’t even celebrate. When you had asked a week prior what she wanted to do she had brushed you off claiming,

“I don’t really care. As long as I get to be with my love.”

She had kissed you, hoping the kiss would fog your mind from any further planning. Unfortunately for her you were a big schemer, always going as big as you could for your friend’s birthdays.

You walked out of the workshop, making one last longing look at her unfinished gift on your messy work table. No one was around today. The one Saturday everyone had off a month. Natasha had gone shopping with Wanda, a plan conncocted to give you plenty of time to get everything ready.

“Friday do you mind turing the oven off?”

you asked the A.I. as you headed down the hallway.

“Of course Agent Y/L/N,”

entering the kitchen you picked up a discarded list of everything that needed to be done. Two items were crossed off “Bake the cake, movie fort.” The unmarked items looked at you teasingly and you felt anxiety rise in your chest. What if you didn’t get everything done and this birthday made Natasha hate birthdays even more? You shook your head trying to chase off the thoughts and went to the oven.

“One perfectly baked chocolate cake coming up,”

grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter. Carefully you coerced the cake from the pan and set it on the cooling rack.

Back when Wanda and you ventured into the baking realm you had begged Tony to put in a floor to ceiling blast chiller. The kind that was always on baking competitions. He reluctantly agreed, with the price of always having to give him a taste of your creations. The freezer was immensely helpful in tight circumstances. You were more than grateful for it now.

You set your cake into the freezer and went to the pantry to pull out all the ingredients you needed for icing. You poured the powdered sugar and placed the butter into the bowl. When you turned on the mixer a cloud of sugary powder exploded in the kitchen. You blinked and licked your lips. Bringing a hand up to wipe your face, you laughed hard. Sugar covered the entire counter and floor beneath you, not to mention your already grease stained clothes.

“Wow, is my little sibling doing coke in here? And without me!”

a snarky voice sounded from across the room. You opened your eyes and squinted at your older brother with a scrunched nose.

“Can it Tony,”

You growled, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off the counter. Tony laughed at you and opened the freezer to look at what sweet treats awaited him tonight.

“A cake? Are we celebrating?”

He laughed and made a teasing face. You rolled your eyes and called out to Friday.

“Can you order me four containers of icing from the store to be delivered?”

“You got it!”

her chipper accented voice came over the audio. You threw the towel in the sink and landed a punch in Tony’s arm as you left to go change.

“You better not eat any of that cake until Nat has had at least one slice. I know where you keep those rare magic cards you think no one knows about and I will not hesitate to cut them all in half,”

He looked at you in shock. Whether it was because you knew about the secret stash or because you would dare cut them you weren’t sure. The only way to get Tony mad was to go for something he couldn’t replace with money.

“YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING DARE,”

You run away as he climbs out of his chair and chases after you. You run into your room and lay on the door to push back a Tony who was only a few steps behind you. When you finally force the door into the frame you turn the lock and fall to the floor laughing.

Angry mumbling came from the other side. Tony pounded on the door twice before, defeated. walking away. After catching your breath you pulled your sugar stained clothes off and changed into the outfit you’d set aside that morning.

“Y/N the man just arrived with the icing,”

Friday called out to your room and you nodded.

“Thank you Friday. Have him set the bags in the kitchen,”

Friday hummed in agreement. You stood up and looked in the mirror checking yourself out. When you were satisfied with the look you unlocked the door and turned to the right. You really needed to finish Natasha’s present. You wouldn’t even have time to test it properly. You really hoped the phrase “it’s the thought that counts,” was true. Her gift could be something that got you endless kisses or a real crash and burn.

Making it to the lab you set your hand on your head and groaned. You really hoped it worked. It was so pretty. You grabbed the wrapping paper and box and set it in with a kiss.

“Natty, I hope you like it,”

The gift finished the fort built, and cake baked, there was only one thing left to do, ice the damn cake. You could bake sure, but only Wanda ever mastered the art of making it look beautiful.

When you made it to the kitchen Tony was nowhere in sight and a plastic bag with what you assumed was icing was set on the counter. You pulled out a butter knife and dug in, hoping this looked somewhat edible. Wanda was the one who was skilled at decorating. You could make the elaborate pastry chef treats, but you could never handle the finer details of making it look pretty.

You were in the workshop when Friday alerted you that Wanda and Natasha were home. A feeling similar to anxiety or excitement fluttered in your chest. This was the first time you’d celebrated her birthday with your girlfriend. You wanted her to like birthdays again. To feel as special and loved as you can pour out for her.

“Thank you Friday. Please tell them I’m in the workshop and will be heading to the game room shortly,”

You set down the gauntlet you’d been fixing while waiting for them and brushed off your outfit. Your eyes searched over the shirt for stains, and when you were satisfied you were clean you headed to your “party”.

Wanda was the first to come in. She threw her hands to her face and “oood” and “aweeed” over the spread you had out.

“Y/N your cake! it’s…. adorable,”

you punched her in the shoulder with a frown. She fell over laughing.

“I TRIED! and I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

you crossed your arms and pouted. She sat back up still laughing and patted your back.

“She’ll love it Y/N. Even if it had ‘fuck you Nat’ written on top she’d love it,”

you smiled at the complement and stopped pouting. You were explaining the technology behind Nat’s present when the woman of the hour finally walked in.

“What is all this? Are y’all having a party? and didn’t invite me,”

she sat down next to you intertwining your fingers with hers and kissing your shoulder. You smiled as the excitement anxiety mix returned.

“Actually…. it’s for you,”

You smiled and kissed her hands. She looked genuinely surprised. You really hoped the feeling was happy excitement.

“oh- Y/N y-you remembered? and you didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I told you i didn’t care to celebrate,”

you felt Wanda stand up to leave with a pat on your shoulder. You smiled up at her and turned back to Natasha.

“I know I know, but I wanted to do something special. You love me so well and work so hard all the time. You deserve a day that’s unapologetically about you,”

You knew if Natasha didn’t have such complete control of her emotions she would be crying. The agape mouth gave that away. You smiled and leaned forward pulling her into a deep, intimate kiss. Feeling her smile against your lips you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you Natashka. I will do anything to make you feel like Queen of the world,”

with that she started crying. You frowned and wiped away the tears.

“I really hope those are happy tears,”

she nodded quickly and smiled, sniffling a little.

“Very very happy tears. happy ‘I don’t know what on Earth i did to deserve you’ tears,”

“It is I who does not deserve you. The Great Black Widow. I’m just here to make you smile, it’s my life goal,”

you bowed as much as you could sitting down. Placing a peck on her lips you turned back to the presents and pointed.

“Which one should we open first?”

she pondered and then picked up a small box. Nimble fingers unwrapped the box and pulled out a Ring. You had managed to get her size weeks earlier fitting one of your own on her finger when hanging out. She looked at the little silver band with a carved sunflower at the head. A smile bloomed across her face and she hugged you.

“Oh my goodness Y/N, it’s so pretty…,”

she slid it onto her fingers, finding the one it fit best and stared at it. You hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Well, you are my sunflower. It’s just a reminder when we are away,”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname. It wasn’t as common for you to use it as baby or sweetheart, but sunflower had always been her favourite.

She looked at the other boxes realising they were also for her. You picked up the next box, a medium sized one and handed it to her. You were saving the biggest for last.

She was just in awe and set it down before unwrapping it. Her hands snaked around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her soft lips pressed kisses to your jaw and she set her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I- no one has done something like this for me ever,”

She hugged you tight again and then let go picking back up the present. You nodded and kissed her head. Pushing some hair out of her face you stroked her hair softly. Her hands once again unwrapped the gift. She squeaked at the sight of the book underneath the paper.

Natasha never got to read much on her own accord growing up. The red room picked out books for her education but never anything she would actually enjoy. Long ago Natasha had told you the first book she read after getting out of the red room was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and since then she adored the book. You had found, and paid for with Tony’s credit card, a first edition of the book. The auction was rough but you needed that book for Natasha.

Natasha stared at the book once, again jaw hanging open. She wiped her hands on her pants before handingly the book with utmost care. She flipped it over and ran her fingertips over the indented letters and gold illustration on the front.

“Y-you like it? I know you said you like Alice in Wonderland. It’s uh… actually a first edition copy. Tony was about ready to kill me when he saw me pay for the bid,”

You laughed nervously. She turned the book around again and then set it on the coffee table. She tackled you and pushed you back on the couch kissing all over your face. You yelped in surprise then grabbed her hips, catching her lips and kissing her roughly. She melted into the kiss but you pulled away.

“As much as I love this Natty, let’s open your last gift and eat some cake,”

You sat up and pulled her so she was in your lap. You placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck as she reached for the last gift. It was heavy but the assassin had no trouble lifting it.

“After that we can makeout in the fort I made. yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you, rubbing circles on her thigh. She laughed and nodded, blushing profusely.

“I like that idea Y/N,”

She opened the box and pulled out the gift you put months of effort into. This time her reaction wasn’t as instantaneous. You helped her pull all the pieces out and set it on the coffee table. She looked at it slightly perplexed.

“I’m sorry… I’m not exactly sure what it is,”

She pouted and looked at you. You smiled and nodded knowing she wouldn’t. You set it out so she could see all the parts.

“Well… uh it’s a new suit. You always say that you don’t like how tight and revealing your other ones are so I kinda beefed this one up so it focuses on functionality,”

She nodded along as you explained. A look of understanding crossed her face as she pulled at the sleeves.

“ohhhhhhhh. That makes so much sense. I- Y/N what the fuck. I can’t express it enough. You are the best, you listened to me and used it to give me the best gifts i’ve ever gotten. You are the most thoughtful partner,”

You beamed. The feeling you knew she was struggling to express, it was exactly what you’d wanted her to feel. Loved, heard, appreciated, and cared for.

“I’m glad sunflower. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel as good as you deserve. D-do you mind if I tell you a bit about the features? I didn’t have time to test some of them so I will need to do that before you take it into combat,”

She nodded and slid off your lap to look at you. You patted her legs and squeezed then held at the sleeve first.

“Well of course it wouldn’t be a suit for the Black widow without gauntlets. These can change through three different modes for different levels and types of stuns also a laser if you need that for aiming,”

You flipped on the laser and pointed it at a pot then turned it back off.

“Also I made it so the suit can suction to your body but be limp to put it on. a lot easier to slip on ya know. And there is mobile but thick padding on all major points of contact for falling. Shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, the like.”

Natasha ran her hands over the surprisingly thin padding and smiled.

“Wow baby that’s… amazing,”

You nodded and picked up the bag attached to the back.

“And uh there’s a parachute built in as well as pockets up the legs, arms and boots so you don’t have to have the belts. They are sorta magnetic so you can like open them easily but when they are closed everything stays in. OH AND THE BOOTS,”

You started to ramble on about the energy absorbing boots you worked with Shuri on that would allow Nat to drop from double the height of a normal human with no damage to her knees or feet. Nat just stared at you hungirly.

“Hey baby, I seriously appreciate the gift. It’s honestly the best thing I've ever gotten. Why don’t we try it out tomorrow and you can show me EVERYTHING. For now we can… sit in the fort like you said,”

She had a cocky smile and you blushed at her antics. You nodded quickly, cutting off your rambling. Her hands found your waist and she pulled you off the couch and into the pillow fort you had built.

“I uh- got a movie for us to watch. Do you want to?”

She nodded and smiled. A look that very much meant “Yes. That's sweet, but I doubt we will be watching it.” You pulled her into your lap, setting your hands on her waist. She draped hers over your shoulders and rubbed light circles on the back of your neck. You leaned forward and trapped her lips in a kiss. Soft but full of passion.

The rest of that night was spent watching the movie and kissing. When you finally remembered the cake a slice had been taken out of it, with

“You were busy with Romanoff so I took what I was owed. The package has been moved, try getting me now little sibling.”

On a sticky note beside it. Natasha had laughed, unsure exactly what had happened but sure it was a story she would much enjoy hearing.

She had moaned over how good the cake was after laughing at how “Adorably” it was decorated.

“So Nat… did I make this birthday worth celebrating?”

She smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes Y/N, if every birthday was like this I would never want to stop celebrating.”

Tag List:

@xburningbluex @zoeyserpentluck @iamgaiiiuwu @natasharomanoffswife @fleurlovesbucky @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @lostandsearching

Natasha Tag list:

@basiclesbianbitch @stephanieromanoff @sapphicshots @madamevirgo @choni-trimberly@wlwlovesreading @i-just-like-storage @screamsin-gay @ymzki-haruki

#black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff #black widow fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #avengers #mcu #marvel #my fic #king-star

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