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#Everything is so swell with me lol
winter-spark · 4 months
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Hhhhhhhhh
I am falling into a strange hole. See, see Idk if you guys are familiar with sm/p (yes I'm hiding) serieses (no i don't know how to pluralize series) but I somehow became a fan of one and like it's weird because it's like a dnd/tabletop game campaign where everyone plays as themselves but there's still a fan base with fan content and aus and theories and shipping? And its like like these are real people but also characters but also real people but also characters but also real people who encourage the fan content and some of these real people react to said fan content namely youtube videos/animatics, animatics which one of these real people said they send to each other(the rest of the server members) in their (server) group chat. These animatics which treat them as characters in fiction which I mean they kinda are but also they're real peo
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ef-1 · 3 months
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girlhood
#i have to fly out to capetown to see mother and im literally debating if i could land in the morning and leave at night on the same day#like. anything longer than that is going to ruin my year.#when she called and did her “katherine. you have to be here on the 10th” i literally sobbed in my bed for the rest of the day 😍😍😍#not dyeing my hair black for a year and its getting lighter and lighter everyday and i look like her again#and my therapist telling me “you need to do things for yourself.” but like can i? sorry that woman traumatised me and i actually cant :)#like everything i do is informed by her#I'm going to go and just like everytime the only way to keep my sanity is to mirror her. talk and sit and speak and read and eat like her#and its such a terrifying experience bc i remember that im capable of emulating her viciousness and maybe i am my mother's daugher 🤢🤢🤢#and im going to come back and its going to take fucking months for me to feel like myself again#“oh you look so beautiful just like your mother” i hope you DIE lol !!! the fact that my conception of beauty was shaped by her#growing up with this cruel beautiful detached woman and realising that at the intersection of beauty and wickness is a lifetime of pain#and still being so desperate for her approval- for any metaphysical proximity to her that i felt elated when#people would tell me i look like her. that it meant i was also beautiful like her and maybe she'll love me a little for it#but now i know for a fact that i do look like her and it makes saliva swell under my tongue - that moment right before you throw up-#when people mention it 😍#last time i was in capetown my optic neuritis flared up (and i know for a fact it was that it was ms-stress related from having to see her)#and i thought i hid it so well even though i had near constant headaches & lethargy until she said “katherine give me the red notebook”#and i knew that she knew all along. it was so acutely humiliating standing there and knowing she knows i cant see which one is the red one#and she tilted her head and said “whats the matter? do you not know what red looks like?”#im never going to have kids. my mother and i read eachother so well it can only mean im never too far removed from becoming her#lol!!!!!!!!!
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tboyautism · 1 year
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the idea of forearm crutches is. so nice. i feel relief just thinking about them.
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muzzlemouths · 1 year
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AAAAAAAAAAA MUZZ If there's anything I can do to help, please lemme know ; n ; I don't have a lot of outside resources but if there's anything I can do to help like, distract or cheer up or just to hang out for a bit so you can vent or something, know that I'm here *BIG HUGS*
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AKSJDEHF THANK YOU!! ;_; Your friendship and company is more than enough to help keep my spirits up already 💕
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soryualeksi · 2 years
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Huge shout-out to my colleague, who I was locked into one car for several hours a few days ago, for coming in sick as a dog to work and not because anything like "out of sick days" but because "I have fun stuff planned for the weekend and I would feel kinda bad calling in sick and then being well on the weekend again", which. Arguably noble(???) but absolutely senseless.
So shout-out: If the reason I can't hear from my ears being stuffed and swollen is because YOU COUGHED YOUR DISGUSTING THROAT GERMS ONTO ME ALL DAY, I will come to your home and kick your ass.
Don't be an ass. If you're sick and CAN stay home then DO stay home instead of infecting all your coworkers.
Also if you LIED to me and everyone and didn't actually thoroughly test yourself that it isn't Covid, I WILL tell that to our bosses, all of them.
#I'm sorry I'm just so pissed off right now#all of the sudden my ear swelled shut and this is extremely disorienting for me because i can't tune out that sensory input at all#so basically it's like a huge bass speaker is blaring right into my ear in sensory intensity#and it's driving me crazy right now and I'm so confused and angry#also don't infect people just stay the fuck home instead of sitting next to me and coughing on everything#all day long#at least wear a mask while in the car but nooo you're a poor little meow meow and very sick and very poor THEN STAY HOME#i don't wanna deal with this i want my ear open again it's like I'm walking lopsided because my sense of orientation is all screwed#I'm very sensitive to stuffed ears sadly because the sensory input is so incredibly overwhelming and affects everything else#so I'm not 'seeing right' on that side either and that is even more disorienting#i don't feel sick i just have pressure on my head and can't hear on one side but that's enough to make me a furious confused animal rn lol#soryuchan's personal issues#hope no coworkers accidentally follow my blog and find me but also fuck you personally if you spread germs at work and COULD stay home#and actively decide not to because uwu i wanna do the fun stuff and have a clear conscience about it#whatever that means#why are you getting me sick I've done nothing to you#also i had to deal with the whining all day that she was sick and felt bad and was a poor little meow meow I GET IT I DON'T CARE#DON'T GIVE ME YOUR GERMS#sob
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yandere-sins · 9 months
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Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.
That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.
Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥
If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:
I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!
»»———————— ♡ ————————««     
A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.
Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 
"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 
"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."
The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.
Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.
Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!
"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.
"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."
Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.
"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 
"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"
"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."
Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?
Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?
Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."
"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 
By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.
But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 
They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 
"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 
"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 
And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.
"Are you this nice to every customer?"
Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.
"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."
"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."
After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.
Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.
You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 
"You're so beautiful when you laugh."
The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.
The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 
Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life
Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special
Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous
Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence
Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words
Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special
Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop
Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes
Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means
Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you
Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work
Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax
You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.
By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.
Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home
Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone
Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ
Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.
ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?
> Yes > No
Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 
You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.
Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 
This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.
Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.
"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"
Your phone pinged.
Achievement unlocked: 
On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route
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oneforthemunny · 27 days
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what is and what should never be (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| II
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prompt: you agree to go on a date with mr. munson- eddie.
part 2 of the older!eddie x reader series, remastered version lol!
contains: age gap (eddie is early forties, reader is late twenties early thirties, all consensual), language, drinking, smoking, p in v sex, oral (fem and male). mentions of divorce & eddie was previously married. 18+ minors DNI I'm so serious.
Your knee bounced underneath the table, freshly polished nails tapping against the faux-leather lined menu in your hand. You couldn’t will yourself to look over at Mr. Mun-  
Eddie. You had to remind yourself, cheeks heating at the playful reminder he’d given you earlier.
“Mr. Munson? Makes me feel old, sweetheart.” He had teased you when he picked you up. 
He’d held the door open for you and everything, a bundle of red roses in the passenger seat.  "Told you I was old school, sweet thing." Eddie purred, sending you a wink that made your thighs clench together, hoping he couldn’t see the way you’d squirmed in blistering heat under his gaze.
 Eddie sat across from you, an envious kind of calm in his demeanor that you desperately hoped you could channel. He was so collected, a painstaking reminder of his seniority over you. It made your heart flutter and jump every time his eyes would meet yours, peek over the menu at you.  
“So,” Eddie placed his menu down, breaking the silence that fell between the two of you. “Brielle tells me you went away for college?” 
“Yeah,” You squeaked, swallowing your beating heart with a slight cringe. “I mean, yes, I did.” Your eyes met his, the low light of the art deco lamp shining in them. 
“What did you study?” Eddie pressed, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek. 
“Don’t laugh,” You gave him a soft glare, lips curling in a playful grin. “I majored in Art History.” 
“Art History?” Eddie’s lips spread in a smile that matched yours. You noticed the creasing in his stubbled cheeks, dimples peeking through. “You know I gotta ask the question now.” 
“Oh, please don’t.” You groaned, shaking your head. 
“I’ve got to.” Eddie shrugged. “What are you going to do with that degree?” 
“C’mon,” You laughed, lips pursing, lashes batting at him flirtatiously, satisfied at how his brows raised. “Uh, you know… I thought I would be like Charlotte York, y’know?” 
Eddie blinked at you. “From Sex and the City?” You blinked back. 
“Is that… A movie?” 
“No.” You gasped playfully. “You don’t know Sex and the City? The show? I mean, there’s movies too, but it’s a show. The best show.” 
“Sounds like a good one.” Eddie purred, a seductive tone in his humor that had your tummy flipping, rushing with exciting heat. 
“Um, so, I-I wanted to buy and sell art. Work in a museum, do the whole thing.” You tilted your head slightly. “Didn’t exactly work out.” 
“You’ve got time.” Eddie hummed. 
You rolled your eyes lightly. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s probably unrealistic. Probably will end up being the part time art teacher at the elementary school for life. Maybe even work up to a full time spot.” You giggled, crossing your fingers playfully in the air. 
“Is that what you do now?” Eddie asked. 
“Yeah, that and the barista thing. It’s easy. Both of them are.” Nerves bubbled in your chest under his gaze. You knew you were rambling, fuck you were rambling, but how could you not? When he was looking at you so calmly, when he was looking right through you. 
“The, uh, the district can’t pay a full time art teacher, so I come every other week.” Your nails tapped against your thighs to keep your fidgeting hands from ringing under the table. 
“Yeah? That’s cool. Bet it’s fun.” Eddie grinned softly. “I always liked when Brielle was little, and she’d come home with some creation.” Your heart swelled at how he beamed, how he lit up when he talked about Brielle. 
“Especially after my- well, my divorce.” Eddie smiled shyly, and through the dim lights of the restaurant, you swore you could see a blush. “I was living in this shitty little apartment. I had nothing on the walls, didn’t even really unpack because it was like, what’s the point, y’know? Brielle would always bring me drawings and stuff she made in art class to hang on the walls. She told me it made it look less boring.” 
Your giggles mixed with his own soft laughter, shoulders relaxing for the first time, tension finally breaking. The waiter came with your glasses of wine, a gentle break from the affection blooming between the two of you. 
“So,” You swirled the riesling around in your own crystal glass, looking at him over the rim. “Now I have to ask the question.” 
Eddie’s right lip tugged in a smirk, one he tried to hide with a roll of his tongue. “Lay it on me, sweetheart.” 
Your cheeks tingled with prickling heat, taking a steadying breath to soothe your jittering nerves. “You’re divorced?” 
“Yeah.” Eddie snorted lightly. “You think I’d be here if I wasn’t?” 
“No, I didn’t,” You shook your head, chin ducking to hide your burning face. 
“I’m kidding.” Eddie soothed, knee brushing against yours under the table playfully. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book.” 
“When’d you get divorced?” You said into the crystal of your glass, voice echoing before you swallowed your wine. 
“When Brielle was eight.” Eddie continued, fingers drumming against the wood of the table. “We were married eight years, together almost a year before that. Gina- my ex- she got pregnant, and… I don’t want it to sound like that. Brielle, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me-” 
“-No, I get that.” You nodded. “I get what you’re saying.” 
“I thought it was the right thing to do. We were really young and- honestly? We were scared shitless at the time. Figured we should do it together, and…” Eddie trailed off with a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. 
“And?” You pressed, the alcohol in your system already, loosening up your nerves. 
Eddie’s lips twitched, a small huff blowing through his nostrils in soft amusement. “And when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting for Christmas, you have to make difficult choices.” 
“Oh,” Your brows creased gently. “Yeah, I guess that would do it. You two fought a lot?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out, tumbling past your lips in curiosity. 
“Yeah, we did.” Eddie said with a small laugh. “It… We just weren’t good together. We hated each other- well, I shouldn’t say that. I didn’t hate her. We just couldn’t get along. Couldn’t get aligned no matter how hard we tried to, and when you’re raising a kid? You need to be aligned.” 
You nodded, an iron grip on your wine glass as you took another sip. Your brain raced with the urgency to fill the uncomfortable silence, coming up blank and void of anything. 
“What about you?” Eddie broke the silence. “Your parents divorced?” 
“No they’re not.” You shook your head. “Still together.” 
“That’s nice.” He nodded. “You’re from Hawkins?” 
“Pretty much. Moved here when I was in second grade.” 
“So not that long ago.” Eddie’s lips curled in a wicked grin, eyes lighting with something so exciting. Filled you with rushing heat from head to toe. 
"Ha-ha." You deadpanned sarcastically, lips rolling to try and bite back your own grin. 
Eddie held his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just trying to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart.” 
“What elephant?” Your eyes rounded innocently, feigning confusion. It was adorable, Eddie’s heart skipped at it. This was fun- you were fun. 
“C’mon,” Eddie faltered, a breathy laugh slipping out. “I mean, it’s not a secret I’m a little bit older than you.” He pressed his pointer finger and thumb together, and for a moment, you got to see the etchings on them.
“What’s wrong with that?” You were shocked at your own boldness. Eddie certainly was too, brows lifting before his lips spread in a wolfish grin. “I’m having a good time.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Me too. Between me and you, this is the first date I’ve enjoyed in a while.” 
You pressed your lips together, fighting back your own giggly grin threatening to show. "Oh, this is a date?I thought this was just a thank you dinner, Mr. Munson?" You challenged, playfully raising a brow. 
You smirked when you saw his cheeks flush underneath the light, lips twitching and twisting into a smug smile. "If that's all you want it to be, that's all it'll be." Eddie said, fingers tapping on the table. "But I really am having a good time talkin' to you. Enjoying your company."
"It's been nice talking to you, too." You agreed with a breathy sigh. "It’s been really nive, actually. The last few times I've been on a date it's been..." You cringed at the memory. "This is way better, let's just say that."
"So it is a date?" Eddie teased, raising a brow playfully. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as did the small ones by his eyes, a grit to his look that left you feeling flustered.
The waiter returned with a refill, saving you from a response. Your body burned when Eddie nodded, motioning for your glass to be refilled. 
Eddie lifted his whiskey out to you in a toast. "To you. A thank you for the other night, and tonight." You smiled bashfully, clinking your glass delicately against his, a familiar giddy rush of heat you hadn’t felt in a long time returning to the pit of your belly. 
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You weren’t entirely sure how it happened. 
If it was the wine, or the countless stories Eddie told you exaggeratedly that left you laughing so hard your sides ached. Maybe it was the dimples, how they’d crease in a wicked grin when he’d say something that made you blush. How he’d catch his tongue between his teeth, eyes darkening in the most exciting way. 
Maybe the wine was to blame. Two glasses turned to three, you’d slipped beside Eddie in the booth after the waiter filled your fourth glass. Gone was any apprehension about the night, nerves disappearing with every wine soaked giggle. 
You’d shut the place down, the last two lingering in the same booth as the staff cleaned up, loudly stacked chairs and passive aggressive sweeps under your table until Eddie finally paid the bill. “Let’s get outta here.” 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders on the way to the car, smitten at the way you leaned into his side. Eddie had opened the door for you, not at all ready for you to fist his shirt, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. The strong scent of his spicy aftershave overtook your senses, blended perfectly with a hint of cigarette smoke. You could taste the whiskey from before on his tongue, mixing with the remnants of the wine left on yours, a perfect collision that left your head spinning deliciously. 
Your hands found his hair, tangling your fingers through his curls, pulling him deeper and deeper into you until you found yourself here- pressed in the backseat of his truck, his weight pressing you into the leather seats. Forearms planted on either side of your head to keep himself above you, Eddie’s lips moved against yours expertly. You thought he’d be a lousy kisser, too old to be good at it- it was a pleasant surprise that he was quite the opposite, clearly with years of experience that perfected his craft. 
You were beneath him, writhing and grinding into his thigh, feet sliding the length of his calf. Insatiable- needy, even. 
"Sweetheart, hold on." Eddie breathed, pulling apart so he hovered above you. “Wait.” He laughed, pushing away when you clawed at him, desperately trying to pull him back to you.
 His curly tendrils fell onto your cheeks, ticking them when he looked down at you through thick, dark lashes. Your eyes rounded so sweetly up at him, lips swollen and kiss bitten. 
Eddie sighed gently, a content yet sharp exhale you could feel, your chest still on his. "This is great. Really great, but..."
The hummingbird beat of your heart stilled entirely, taking a sharp breath in. You knew it was coming. The inevitable 'I can't do this with you'. The fall, the crash back to reality. It was too good to be true, too odd to work anyways. You cursed yourself for letting him get you this far. You were stupid to think this was going to work. You knew better.
"I just,” Eddie huffed, smacking a hand against the headrest, pushing up. Your legs tightened around his hips frantically, one last desperate attempt to stop him. 
“Hang on. I gotta move. My back is killing me." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted so he knelt awkwardly between your legs, still hunched in the back of the car.
You blinked. "What?"
Eddie scoffed lightly, grinning, face still inches from your own. "C’mon, I'm not young like you, baby. Can’t do the backseat as easy anymore. Not as good as I once was." He smiled, tossing you a wink that had your body screaming with excitement. 
You smiled shyly, scooting back into the seat to make room for him, mumbling a quiet apology. "No, it’s not- I wanna do this. I just-I gotta go somewhere where I'm not so cramped. If you wanna do this.” Eddie added the last part quickly, eyes scanning your features carefully. 
“Yeah, of course.” You giggled, lip tucking between your teeth. 
“Back to my place?” Eddie grunted, fumbling to find the door handle. You nodded, pulling to adjust your clothing. 
The two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs clinging and grabbing the other, fisting and shoving clothes off in between feverish kisses. A trail of clothing following the two of you to the living room. You dropped to your knees before he could pull you into the room, stopping in the entrance, his hands planted on the door frame above you.
Your hands shook with excitement, fumbling with his belt. “Easy,” Eddie rasped, looking down at you through lidded lashes. “Take your time, baby. No need to rush. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 
Your thighs squeezed, rubbing together for friction, his hands finding your hair as you licked his tip. One hand gripping the back of his thigh to keep you steady, and the other cupping his balls, squeezing as you rolled them, smug at the grunts and hushed moans of pleasure spilling from his lips.
"Fuuuck, baby." Eddie groaned, stilling his hips. "Just like that. All the way. Good girl." He groaned, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You felt another trembling gush of excited wetness flood your panties, clenching around nothing but an aching desire to be filled, taking him deeper.
You swallowed him as far as you could, only gagging when he pushed past your throat. "C’mon, you got it. You can do it. Do it f’me? Ah, yeah, just like that.” Eddie panted, head tipping back when he touched the back of your throat. “Atta girl, good girl. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby?" Your nose brushed against his coarse hair at the base of him, eyes pricking with tears.
He pulled out of you unexpectedly, a small whimper leaving your lips. "That's a good girl." Eddie cooed, calloused fingers wiping the wetness from under your eyes. "Someone's gotta take care of you, huh? Your turn now, hm?"
Eddie led you to the couch, hands gripping your waist, baring you for him. Your body trembled at the way his eyes darkened, looking at your puffy, slick lips with a hungry, nearly predatory look. Legs over his shoulders, your nails digging into the cushions behind you as your hips bucked, held into place by his steady grip until you were crying out his name. He was a pro, that much was for certain.
You told him that, body still shaking with after shocks of pleasure that left  your mind spacey from your second orgasm. He'd simply laughed. "Years of practice, baby doll." Throwing you a wink, smooching the inside of your thigh sloppily before letting his fingers run through your slick, sensitive folds.
He'd finally got you into his bed, stumbling down the hallway, before you propped yourself on all fours near the edge of the bed. He'd fucked you, hard. The squelch of your pussy being filled with him echoing off the walls, mixed with whimpers and groans from the both of you, a sinful melody that neither one of you wanted to end.
You'd pushed him on the bed, climbing on top before you sank down on his cock. It was a thank you for the dinner, you decided, and for everything afterwards. Nails digging into his tattooed chest as you sank down, brows pinched and eyes shining taking- feeling every single inch of him inside of you. You felt so full of him. It was overwhelming, dizzying the way he felt inside of you. The head of his cock bumped, teasing the sensitive spot that made you gush, leaving your body burning and aching for him.
Eddie's hands dug into the meat of your hips and ass, a low grunt falling from his chest. Your hips swiveled, sucking him in with ever pleasure filled gallop on top of him.
"You close? Y'gonna cum for me, sweet thing?" Eddie whispered, your whiny response making his cock twitch, groaning at the squeeze of your walls around his length. "Doin’ so good. Shit- feel so good. Go ahead. Cum f’me, baby." His fingers traveled up your body, flicking and twisting your pebbled nipples.
You clenched, rhythm stuttering, sitting fully and grinding against his base for friction. "Oh, fuck," You whined, high and nasally. "I-I’m really close- oh!” Your body stuttered when his calloused thumb pressed to your clit, circling it and sending you spiraling into pleasure.
Your brain blanked, eyes rolling back as you clamped down on him, leaning forward for support as he held you up. Eddie smirked, moving you so you were on your back, still buried inside of you.
"'M gonna finish up, alright? I'm close." Eddie whispered, pressing lazy kisses up and down your neck, breath ghosting over your collarbones leaving you shuddering. You nodded dumbly, sensitive and starry eyed still as he thrusted in you.
"You're such a pretty thing, you know that? Beautiful, baby." Eddie teased, nipping and sucking at your neck. The stubble of his beard rubbed against your skin, leaving it raw and chafed in its wake, not that you minded. He collapsed on top of you after he finished, chest slick against yours. You could feel every stuttering, ragged breath. 
Your thighs were trembling, still covered in a sticky sheen of sweat, dizzy as your body slowly settled. Melting into the mattress, the realization of it all came flooding back into your mind. Your eyes cut to Eddie sheepishly, anticipating a look that would send you into another deep wave of shame. Instead, he lit a cigarette next to you, jimmying the window open just barely, letting the smoke pass through. 
He looked over, handing it over as an offering, which you shook your head. "Good," Eddie's gruff voice said, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. "Nasty habit. Don’t start it, you’ll never be able to stop." He grinned.
You felt a blush coming on, one that never quite made it. Your own body too exhausted, heavy with sleep, the effects of the wine finally settling in your system. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight." You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool linen of the pillow. "'M glad you asked me out."
"Anytime, sweetheart." Eddie said through a cloud of smoke that fell from his lips. “Had a good time too. Let’s do it again.” That same wicked grin spread across his lips, devious and daring. Your body tingled with excitement, nose pressing into the pillow to hide your sleepy smile.
530 notes · View notes
jyoongim · 1 month
Note
This is more of an idea (feel free to not respond btw)
But what if married reader gets knocked up with Alastors fawn and the husband divorced her once he realizes the baby isn’t his? You can bet your ass that the deer daddy is already trying to ensnare the reader in his grasp lol
Hehehe i have never written a Part 2 so fast !
Part 1
————————————————————————
“Oh my Satan dear! Look at you! Ya look like you’re bout to pop!” Rosie exclaimed when you walked in her shop.
’Pop’ was an understatement.
You were very near the end of your pregnancy and it had not been kind to you.
You never told your husband about the incident with Alastor.
Would he had even believed you?
Alastor was A LOT of things, but the two of you were friends…your husband would think call you insane….
Your eyes widened seeing the very cause of your discomfort.
Alastor.
You wanted to dash out the door, run back home and hide.
The red Overlord turned around, hearing Rosie’s voice, you froze seeing his eyes look you over, you instinctively placed a hand over your stomach when his lips stretched into a smile.
You heard Rosie excuse herself to go get some appetizers but you were too focused to acknowledge her.
You were alone.
With him.
You took a shaky breath as memories from several months ago flashed across your mind, but you shook your head lightly to discard those thoughts.
”My my look at you” he purred approaching until he towered over you, beaming like a Cheshire cat “You really do make a fine mother” his large hand caressed the swell of your belly, smile softening when he felt movement.
”j-just leave me be please” you whispered, wincing when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
Alastor chuckled ”leave you be? Oh ma cherie no can do!” 
He bent his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a whisper “especially since you’re about to give birth to my baby?”
You pushed him away, putting distance between the two of you. Your face was flushed, eyes narrowed “I am NOT having your baby! I am having my husband’s baby!” You defended.
But there was a sliver of doubt you always felt when it came to the little soul nestled within you.
Alastor’s smile never wavered “Hmm you sure? Because i remember vividly filling your cunt with my seed until it dripped down your legs” 
You froze.
”You took me so well I was positive you would be pregnant”
He took small steps towards you
”Did you tell your husband?” 
Your snarl fell at his words and he knew he had you.
”T-there’s n-nothing to tell” you said turning around, ready to leave. 
You didnt have to take this.
He hummed coming up behind you. “Nothing to tell?” He chuckled darkly as his lanky arms wrapped around you, cradling your swollen belly. He leaned his head on top of yours.
”Oooh darlin I’m hurt! You didnt tell your loving husband how you milked my cock? How I tasted the cunt that belonged to him? How I claimed you for myself? That I sent you home filled with my cum?”
You were shaking.
”How unfaithful you were? Could the poor man tell another man’s cum was inside you while he fucked you?”
He kissed your neck
”I can’t wait to meet our little fawn”
Your baby kicked causing him to smile.
————————————————————————-
Pain.
Thats all you felt as you tried to breath through your contraction.
”You got this honey! You’re doing great” your husband soothed as you wailed.
”One more push maam the baby’s almost here” the nurse reassured you.
Almost? It felt like you been pushing forever
”I cant” you panted.
Everything burned.
Your husband dabbed at your sweaty forehead, pressing a kiss to it “You got this baby. C’mon just one more push and then it’ll all be over”
Your eyes clenched and with a scream you pushed.
”Aaahh!”
Relief and then the shrill cry of a baby.
The nurses cooed “Ooh a healthy boy!”
she cleaned up the baby and you sighed as you slumped against the bed.
Finally.
”Ok mama” you felt a small weight on your chest.
Soft noises had you look down and you felt your heart break and bloom.
Red tufts of hair curled on the babe’s head and he looked at you with big red eyes.
He looked like you; round cheeks and a cute nose.
He looked nothing like your husband.
And every bit like…
”what the fuck” you heard your husband say. You turned to him, eyes wide.
He was staring at the baby.
”I-Its n-not what you think dear j-just let me-”
”You fucked Alastor” he was frowning, standing up from the bed.
You shook your head, tears swelling
”N-no that’s…I didnt i swear”
”I am looking at his exact copy. The damn brat looks nothing like me!”
You couldnt move “Honey p-please”
The man backed away. He was angry.
The baby began to cry, you tried to rock the poor soul, but your attention was on your husband
”Honey-”
”I should have known” he hissed lowly, pacing.
”I should have known by the way he acted. How you flirted with each other! The fucking radio demon!? Tsk!”
He turned to look at you.
”I dont want some bitch who takes me for a fool. Hope it was worth it you fucking slut” he turned to walk out.
tears ran down your face, your heart was racing “W-What? Honey no it wasn’t like that..it-it was never-”
”I want a divorce. You are dead to me”
and like that he was gone.
You sat there stunned.
Your husband just…left.
He left you and he didn’t even let you explain, tell him how or why all this was happening.
The baby cooed and you looked down at him.
You wanted to be angry, you had every right to be, but looking at this sweet soul…he didnt deserve your anger.
You were a mother now. You would do your best to love your child.
Even if you had to do it alone.
————————————————————————————-
“What a fine mother you make indeed my dear”
He smiled watching the little fawn latch to your chest and stare back at him with vermillion eyes.
You hissed at him, earning a quirked brow “haven’t you done enough?”
Soft static buzzed through the air as the Overlord approached you. You took a step back, as he extended a hand to the babe and rubbed his chubby cheek.
Alastor ignored your question ”How are you feeling love?” He asked as the baby nuzzled into your neck.
How were you feeling?
You were divorced, a single mother, and living with Rosie.
Shunned.
All because of him.
”Like hell but I know you’re not here to ask about my well being”
Alastor ignored your jab.
”I do care for you darlin and its only right that I provide for you and our fawn”
You went to growl, threaten him to die, but your baby reached out to the red demon.
Alastor’s face light up and he grabbed the fawn, cooing and tickling the baby.
Your son squealed and giggled, trying to grab at his claws.
”Let’s make a deal dearest”
You straightened at his words. A deal with Alastor was dangerous.
But you were at rock bottom.
”What kind of deal?” You asked cautiously.
”Marry me. Marry me and you’ll have nothing to be worried about. You’ll be protected, cared for, and have anything you desire.”
The baby was gumming at his collar.
”Be mine”
You bit your lip. What did you have to loose?
You sighed, taking your son.
You looked at the tall demon, green magic swirling around him.
”Do we have a deal?” he extend his hand.
You looked at your baby and then back at Alastor.
”I hate you” you said taking his hand,
You winced as your hand burned and watched a gold ring appear on your finger.
Radio static buzzed and then a soft humming. Alastor purred, smiling, fixing his jacket.
“Oh my dear” His arm looped around your waist, bringing you close to him as he chuckled “Such a good girl”
“Now! I think I have the perfect place for us to raise our fawn”
—————————————————————————————
“Uggghh Al you got a little something…” Charlie said nervously as she watch Alastor sip his coffee.
The little red fawn was hanging on his antlers, happily gnawing at the appendages. Alastor looked up, smiling “Oh he’s fine”
”Alastor have you seen…” your voice floated into his ears as you entered the lobby, stopping when you saw your son among his father’s antlers.
Alastor let out a grunt as the baby pulled at his ears “Hes right here dear”
Your baby babbled as you approached, squealing when you plucked him from his father.
You scowled the Overlord, placing the baby on your hip.
”How many times have I told you not to just let him hang-”
”da-”
You froze.
“Da…da” your son babbled, squirming in your arms.
Charlie cooed and Alastor smirked as the fawn’s eyes welled with tears as he reached for his father. Alastor walked towards you, scooping the baby from you.
You pouted as the baby happily chirped, nuzzling in his father’s neck.
Alastor sneaked a soft kiss to your lips 
“See he’s fine”
You sighed, rolling your eyes, arms crossing.
”Oh smile my dear. Maybe the next one will say mama first” he laughed, eyes settling on your round belly.
”After all you’re a great mother”
857 notes · View notes
endlessthxxghts · 8 months
Text
What You Need
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k
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Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.
Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!
Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.
MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
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It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 
You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 
You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 
It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 
Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?
It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 
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It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 
You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 
“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 
You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 
The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 
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Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 
“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”
“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”
Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 
After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 
He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 
“Mhm, please.” 
“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 
You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 
Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 
Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 
“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 
“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 
“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 
You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 
He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 
Silence. 
He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”
“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 
“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”
Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 
Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 
Like I taught ya last week, hm?
His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 
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You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”
“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”
You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 
He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 
He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 
All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 
“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”
And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 
“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”
You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”
His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 
So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 
Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 
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You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 
You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 
“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 
You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 
He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”
You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”
Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 
He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 
The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 
“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”
You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.
“Color, baby?”
“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.
He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”
You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 
He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 
So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 
Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”
And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”
Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”
You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 
He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 
Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 
“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”
Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”
He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 
You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 
Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 
He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 
If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 
He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 
He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 
He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 
Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 
He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 
You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 
Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 
His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 
You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 
“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 
You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 
You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 
Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 
He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 
He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 
“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 
You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 
“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 
“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 
He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 
He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 
He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 
“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 
“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 
“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 
“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”
You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 
He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 
“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 
“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 
With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 
It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 
“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 
Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 
You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 
The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 
He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.
“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 
He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 
It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 
His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”
Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 
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The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 
You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 
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As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 
“Darlin’...” 
You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”
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Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.
As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.
Much love to everyone! <3
.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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lady-phasma · 2 months
Text
Don't look away
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x F!Reader
Stand alone, cross posted on AO3, app 2,800 words
Warning: 18+, NSFW, others I should add but it's Feyd
Summary: Feyd lives rent free in my head now. I’m working on an unrelated piece with an ofc but I wanted to share a pwp because this man is essentially walking and talking sex. Enjoy. Please ignore typos. This was a rush job LoL
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my gif
You hold your breath as Feyd-Rautha circles you, appraising. His head is tilted down and he looks at you from under his brows. Your chest is tight. He is almost exactly what you expected after watching him in the arena. Yet, not quite. He steps in front of you.
“She’s acceptable,” he says to the Reverend Mother without looking away from you. You begin to slowly exhale. His eyes slide down to your parted lips. He slowly licks his.
“Leave us,” he growls and the Reverend Mother, the younger Bene Gesserit sister, and his Harpies slip out of the room. You glance over your shoulder as the door slides closed behind them.
“No,” he whispers as he turns your head back toward him, guiding you with his hand on your chin. His blue eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth then back again. As he smiles, you see the tips of his blackened teeth for the first time and catch yourself staring.
“‘No’, my lord na-Baron?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He is standing close enough to hear you regardless. He nods once and drops his hand from your chin, grazing the backs of his fingers down your neck. He impertinently flicks the hood of your cloak off your head before dropping his hand to his side.
“You won’t look away from me. You will watch everything I do. No looking away, no closing your eyes.”
You swallow and attempt to nod but you feel like you cannot move. You want to move. You almost want to run for the door but you can imagine Feyd blocking your path with speed and stealth. You look at his mouth again, the lips curling, black teeth catching the light, and his tongue…
Feyd’s grip on your upper arm snaps your attention back. He undoes the clasp at your neck and slips the cloak off your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. You feel the goosebumps spread up your arms as the cool air of the room hits them. You are suddenly aware of the low neckline of your dress as you inhale. Your cleavage swells and you feel exposed, like prey out of cover.
He licks his lips, slowly. You fight conflicting urges to stare and to look away. You let your gaze travel up to his eyes. He isn’t looking at your face. He is stalking around you again, this time stoping behind you.
His hands are cool on your upper back and you shiver. Feyd makes a sound in response, a satisfied groan that is so low that you think you may have not heard it at all. His hands slip under your dress and are no longer gentle. He rips your dress down the back along the seam. He slings the shoulders of the dress down and you feel him step closer.
Feyd licks your neck, slowly, from the top of your shoulder to your ear. You bite the tip of your tongue to hold back a moan. You don’t want to like this, you don’t want to want him, but your nipples are hard and your body is a furnace.
“Let it out,” he growls in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “I want to hear you.”
You do. The sound comes out as a sigh and a moan. His reaction adds fuel to the fire in your core. Feyd growls next to your ear. His exhale tickles your cheek and you shiver again. Then you feel the fabric of his shirt press against your exposed back. Longing rolls over you as you realize you don’t want his shirt against your skin. You let the smallest groan escape your lips, a whining sound.
Feyd leans down and drags his lips over your shoulder. You almost relax into the feeling until you feel the pain as he bites down into the muscle. You gasp. It surprises you more than it hurts you. He releases his hold on you but his mouth stays against your skin.
Almost as unexpected as the bite, you feel the weight of his smooth head rest against your neck. He leans his weight in the crook of your neck and sighs. His hot breath makes you ache. His teeth are still grazing your shoulder. You want to relax into this feeling but he is too unpredictable.
Your mind races in an attempt to understand this man, to glean some insight. His sighs and groans make your core hot and tight. But the press of his teeth against your skin conflict with the gentleness of the press of his head against you. You can’t sort your thoughts and you can’t focus.
Suddenly, Feyd grunts and pushes away from you. Before you can decide to turn to look at him, he pulls your dress all the way off your arms and pushes it down your hips, leaving it in a puddle around your feet. You can’t think straight. You instinctively cross your arms over your breasts but it’s a fruitless action. He is behind you and you cannot cover the lower half of your body. You aren’t sure but you think the whimper you make is too quiet for him to hear.
“Stay,” Feyd growls. You do. You don’t move. You stare straight ahead at the wall opposite you and focus all your attention on listening, trying to decode the sounds Feyd is making behind you.
You hear cloth moving, one light thud, followed by another, then more cloth. Then you hear what is unmistakably bare feet on the stone floor. Then you feel him, not pressed against you (yet), but just behind you. He is still taller than you and though you cannot see him he feels like a monolith, looming and intimidating.
Feyd doesn’t speak as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your biceps. He presses your arms against your sides and you acquiesce. Then his large hands cup your breasts as he steps forward into you, pressing the length of your bodies together. You feel lightheaded and sag slightly against him.
“Yes,” he hisses and somehow you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, my pet, that’s it.” His hands slide down the rises and hollows of your belly and hips. There is too much stimulus for you to focus on any one thing. The cool heat of his palms against your skin, the silkiness of his chest against your back, and the press of his erection against the curve of your buttocks.
This bliss is fleeting and you remind yourself of who he is, what you have seen him do. But the images of the arena can’t push the feeling of him on your skin out of your mind. You are almost powerless in his hands.
He guides you to turn and face him. You look up at him and involuntarily lick and bite your lower lip. For the first time you see hunger in his eyes. His head dips down and you fight the instinct to close your eyes as his lips press against yours. Not until you see his eyes close do you do the same. His mouth is bittersweet and gentle at first. Then his teeth nip and pull at your lip, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he growls. You can’t stop yourself from pressing against his chest. Your hands find his arms as you try to get closer to him. As you pull him toward you the taste of blood crosses your tongue.
Feyd pulls his mouth back and you open your eyes immediately. The red on his lower lip is a stark line against the white skin. He slowly drags his finger across it. He gazes at the red on his fingertip as if he has never seen anything so entrancing before. Then he presses his finger against your lip and you pull the tip into your mouth. He moves before you can understand what is happening. His hand is in your hair, wrenching your head back. His other arm encircles your waste and he looks down at you, black teeth glinting in the pale light of the room.
His sneer is terrifying. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as you grip him. You don’t push him away; you can’t move. His eyes dart around your face searching for something. For defiance? He finds none and his mouth crashes against yours in a rough kiss that is mostly teeth and breath.
Something inside you gives way and you claw desperately at his arms. You kiss him back, finding his tongue with yours, inviting him into your mouth. His body is warm stone in your arms. You search for purchase, some place to anchor yourself, his chest, his arms, his neck. Then you push your hips forward, almost without thinking. His cock presses against your belly and he growls again. That sound draws wetness from between your legs and you moan back into his mouth. His hand begins to loosen its grip on your hair and you feel him smile against your lips. When you look at him you see it isn’t a kind smile.
“So that’s what you want, pet?” His smile is mocking, almost cruel. His voice is low and deep. His hand slides out of your hair to the side of your face. He caresses your cheek with his palm and rubs his thumb across your lips, lulling you with his touch.
“You want me to fuck you now?” Your response is the most undignified whimper. You are surprised by the desperation in the sound. As he straightens up to his full height you immediately miss the feeling of his skin. His smile softens briefly. Then he grips the back of your neck, hard, and walks you to the bed. Your heart pounds and you fear you won’t be able to keep your feet. If you trip you have no doubt he will drag you.
You look away from him, glance at the bed. He catches you and turns you to face him as you make the last few steps to the bed. It presses against the backs of your knees and you nearly fall. Feyd doesn’t let you. A brief flicker of understanding dawns on you: he doesn’t want anything to hurt you, only he can do that. It’s a perverse comfort, but his control is seductive. You don’t let yourself think “protective” but that’s the closest word. Then all words leave your mind as he lets go of you and you sink back into the bed.
Feyd kneels on the bed, spreading your legs with his knees. He isn’t gentle but his touch is soft. Every part of his hairless body is smooth and cool and graceful. His giant arms frame your field of vision as he props himself above you. His lower lip glistens and you want to risk defiance. You press yourself up to meet his mouth, to suck at that lip, bite and tease.
His reaction is quick. His hand presses you back onto the bed, wrapping almost entirely around your neck. You lick your lips and sneer up at him. His eyes flash with understanding. He grins. Using his hand on your neck and his legs to hold his weight he slips a hand between you and finds your slick center. He trails his fingers through your wetness and your last vestige of pride falls away. You actually whine as you raise your hips to find more of his fingers. He obliges for a moment and lets you press against them. Then he pulls his hand away.
The pressure on your neck is not yet uncomfortable. You let out panting breaths. Your mouth hangs open, eyes locked with his. Before you realize his hand is gone from your neck, you feel his wet fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Without needing to be told you suck gently on them. You watch his face soften with pleasure. Barely opening his eyes, Feyd slides his fingers from your mouth, down your body, and under your thigh. He guides your leg onto his hip. As he leans his weight onto his other arm he guides his cock into your slick folds. You hold your breath. You don’t stop watching him and he notices. He looks at you, lewdly, as he strokes himself through your dripping cunt. You feel yourself blush, a bit too late for embarrassment, but there it is anyway. He groans as he presses the tip of his cock against your opening.
“Please, Feyd,” you groan. “Oh please.” His eyes widen at your words, at the sound of his name.
“Beg for my cock, pet. Tell me how much you need it,” he commands, his face only inches above yours.
“I need it so badly it hurts, na-Baron,” you watch for his reaction to the use of his title and you aren’t disappointed. “I need to feel you. Please.”
Feyd groans and his head dips lower, almost resting his forehead on yours as he begins to slide into you. The feeling is intense as he stretches you. You open your legs a bit wider, sliding your foot up the curve of his ass to his lower back. He presses deeper, harder, and you exhale his name. You don’t dare close your eyes yet but his are closed tight and his brow is furrowed. You gingerly slide your hands over his head and grip the back of his neck. You pull him to you slightly, giving him permission to rest his head against your neck. He rubs his head against you like a cat and you smile to yourself as you close your eyes.
Feyd’s hips press into yours, spreading you wide as he buries his face against you. He pulls out slowly and slides back in, so you can feel every inch of him. His free hand searches up your side to your breast and squeezes. His thumb grazes your nipple as he starts to pump into you. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, twists it slightly. You moan and press your lips against the smooth skin of his head.
“You take me so well,” Feyd mutters into your chest. “Such a good girl taking all of me.” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver and mewl. On his next stroke in, you slip your other leg over his hip and circle your legs around his waist. You pull him into you, as far as you can take him, the head of his cock pressing against your deepest core. He makes the most satisfied sound imaginable. You feel his lips, then his teeth against your collarbone. Your grip on his neck tightens as he slides out of you and rams back in, hard and quick.
With the next stroke, Feyd raises his head to look at you. You let your hands slide to his shoulders, still holding tight. There is no softness on his face now. His lust-blown pupils have swallowed the blue of his eyes and his brow is furrowed as he focuses on fucking you. He squeezes your breast quickly then moves his hand to your hair. He holds your head still and leans down to kiss you when he thrusts. You dig your fingernails into his skin and groan.
His control starts to falter and he exhales into your mouth. His hand in your hair gripping tighter as his strokes shorten and his pace quickens. You slide your hand down from his shoulder to touch yourself. His facial expression changes momentarily as he feels you grip tighter around his cock. You grin up at him.
“I need it, Feyd,” you whisper, holding his eye contact. You wait a beat and arch your back as your fingers and his cock bring you closer to your climax. “I need to feel you cum.” You groan. The wave of your pleasure begins to crest, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then you feel his teeth clamp down on the flesh above your clavicle. Your orgasm overtakes you as the sharp sensation clashes with the low, throbbing pleasure between your legs. You murmur his name through clenched teeth.
Feyd pushes through your spasms around his cock. Growling and grunting but not releasing you from his bite. He fucks you through your orgasm. His rhythm stutters and his grip loosens. He lifts his head, a string of spit pulled from his bottom lip. He grabs your head with both his hands and, panting just above your mouth, he cums. The heat fills you and you moan his name again. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as he presses into you one last time.
Then he stills, his forearms holding him up, but lets some of his weight press you together so he is almost lying on top of you, not pulling out yet. He exhales deeply and raises his head. He looks down at you.
You can’t catch your breath and your legs are heavy. You let them slide down his hips. Your neck throbs where his teeth marked you. You want to wrap your arms around him, pull him into you, stroking and soothing this wild animal. Instead, you grab the back of his head and pull him down to your mouth and kiss him until you taste red.
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nouearth · 8 months
Text
rated i for impatient.
steve harrington x male reader.
summary: in the middle of a slow afternoon at family video, steve has an idea on how to past time, and it involves you and your mouth.
wc: 3.4k. warnings: explicit smut, handjob (r!giving), blowjob (r!giving), mouth-fucking, deep-throating, lots of spit, gagging, bantering, workplace quickie, co-workers, established relationship, rough!steve, but also gentle!steve, bigdick!steve.
a/n: and it's been a hot minute since i've written smut, as well as a full one-shot!! i swear, i feel like my small hiatus made me forget everything, lol. but i hope it's as good as my other stories and i also hope you guys enjoy steve's first appearance on my blog!
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“Dude, you seriously couldn’t wait?” 
Heavy footsteps followed Steve as he dragged your trudge into the storage closet. Even though his back faced you, he responded with a shimmy of his shoulders, the flight of muscles equally excited to cease the sluggish afternoon.
“Oh, come on!” He shut the door once you entered with a distressed groan. Though, he knew you didn’t mean it despite your pointed tone. 
“I know you want to.” Steve sang with a tease, cornering you against the door with a playful dance, and a smile that had charmed you since the first time you had met him. 
You’d been keeping track at how many times Steve had simply captivated you with his presence. It was embarrassing because you’d lost count since day one. The only statistic that you did know was that you were losing.
Losing bad.
Always a goody two-shoes and extra responsible, yet somehow, you were never a prude and knew how to have fun. If only you weren’t so hesitant in this moment. It was your first week, your fourth day at Family Video, and you wanted to make a great impression, even if it was only something to fill up your time during the summer.
He continued to dance, singing a tune that had been stuck in his head since three mornings ago, and your lips curled into smile while he performed within the narrow space. A few stumbles threw him off balance, but upon seeing your lips bitten to hold back a laugh, the following trip had been intentional. 
Steve collided into you, though barely as he caught his weight against the door. A whisper of gasp dried your throat when the sudden thump by your shoulders jolted you and his face rushed close to yours like a bullet. Your gaze widened in surprise, only for them to roll once it catalogued the mischief on his face. “You know Keith kind of hates you, right? You’re going to be fucked if he catches you slacking again.”
“Me?! I’m sorry, are you a ghost or something? A figment of my imagination? Worse… I’ve huffed paint too many times when I was little, and now it’s all catching up to me.” There was amusement on his face and it reflected off of your smile. 
You straightened your posture to match his eye level, and rebutted his theory with the light touch of your nose to his. He laughed, wrapping his arms around your torso. “You’d get in trouble too, you know. Last time I checked, most sexual acts involve at least two participants.”
“Yeah, well, he likes me unlike you! If anything, he’d probably blame you for being a bad influence or something.” The possible truth expelled a groan out of Steve, but it doesn’t stop him from pouring the remainder of his frustration into your mouth. 
You took him in stride, earlier hesitance burying into the back of your mind when the fresh mint of his breath began haunting your mouth. Then, completely into obscurity when his tongue slid over yours, sloppily in hopes of awakening a fruitful lust, akin to his, within you.
“Steve… come on,” You pulled away, but Steve immediately captured your lips again in a tongue-swelling kiss. “What if customers come in?” You panted in between breaths, squeezing at his firm back to distract yourself from the growing tent within your khakis.
“I’ve been here longer than you, studied the activity down to the seconds.” He pressed into you, hip to hip, until you could feel his own muscle growing against yours. “We have at least ten minutes.”
“Ten?! Dude, that’s not enough—“
“Please?” Steve suddenly pulled your hand from his back and into the firmness of his bulge, looking into you with a desperation that rivaled the yearning freedom of his erection. “Please…” The curl of your hand was imposed by his grip, folding them until you had a handful of his bulge, throbbing at the mere friction of your warm palm.
“Fuck,” The determination in Steve’s gaze, as well as the devilish guidance of your own cock stirring against you, had your hand leave the aching muscle for a brief moment to hastily unbuckle his belt. You pressed your lips back to his, and muttered with a grimace. “You’re owing me one after work.”
“God, I love you.” He sighed with relief upon knowing that the heavy pressure in his pants would soon be released, thanking you by taking your cheeks into the dip of his palms and kissing you warm and wet. Even if it was going to be a quick one, his main priority was to be liberated of the painful throbs that had led him to this desperate juncture.
As much as Steve hated confined spaces, the feeling of the storage space closing in on him had only been fleeting because his desire for you was gravity-defying strong. It expanded the proximity at his very will until you were the only subject framed in his field of vision. 
Lips plumped from the bites he took from your flesh earlier, balmy skin speckled with a flush that he’d been the sole creator of, he couldn’t get enough of your presence. He took in your woody scent with deep inhales as he moved his lips to your neck, and your hands began digging into the waistband of his pants, pulling Steve close with a hard yank to harbor every warm breath into one another again.
With one swift pull, the belt collided with the floor and your hands worked at the zipper like a tailor until the khakis dropped and pooled around his ankles. You accompanied the leather and fabric seconds after, kneeling onto the cold surface with the eager guidance of Steve’s caresses to the back of your head. 
Kneeling face-to-face with his bulge, you couldn’t stop yourself from drooling even if Steve was covered. You could outline the girth of his cock, plumping and thickening under your piquant gaze, and then throbbing when you followed the curve with your palm in eager cycles until the waistband screamed for your attention. 
Your fingers hooked into the elastic band and in one slow pull, you revealed Steve’s erection in all its glory. Thick and unkempt hairs billowed first, and you played with the anticipation as you dragged the waistband over his length, weighting it downwards until all that was left covered was the plump tip that you can still taste from a few nights ago. In a final yank, Steve’s cock sprang up proudly and his groans were heavenly in its accompaniment. The weight of his large cock made him bounce in several reps before it was kept still by the warmth of your hand, then another over the remaining curve to amuse yourself with his blessed size.
“Jesus, did you not jerk off this morning? Haven’t seen or felt you this hard before...” Your mouth fell open in awe, and also in preparation to loosen the muscles in your jaw while your hands slid over him in slow strokes. Every vein throbbed at the delicate touch, pulsated strong when you squeezed a few sticky drips of his pre-cum from his spout. They would’ve landed on the undeserving floor had you not stuck your tongue out in time, lapping him up from the underside of his cock to the smooth pink rim. 
His cock jumped when your other hand dropped to fondle his balls, hanging low as if they awaited to be grasped and swung. You did exactly that as you licked the slit of his tip, amusing yourself with Steve’s package that you had sucked and fucked before, yet still managed to be surprised despite your many affairs.
“Not since we last fucked, to be honest.” At first, he balled the end of his shirt and raised it high to prevent it from obstructing your view, exposing the happy trail that you always traced over with your tongue on lazy Sundays. “Guess it wasn’t the same.” But the defy work of your hands spread the boil in his stomach to the muscular arch of his back, hot and heavy on his body until the weight of his shirt was thrown off. Moans exhaled in breathy tremors as you squeezed his shaft and pulled him forward and back in wall-closing jerks. 
“Well, I’m sorry for the long wait.” Your strokes continued while you sealed a wet promise to the pink glans. “I’ll make it worth it.” You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to welcome the following sticky slaps of his heavy length in disgusting delight, holding him like a marker as you patterned his thick pre-cum over your pair of lips before the salty flesh was vaulted into your mouth with an inhale.
His length pushed your mouth open in an accommodating stretch, almost pleasurable if he hadn’t been so difficult to take in. The first few inches gagged you, ached a muscle in your stomach when you flexed. It was traditional at this point, and your routine often consisted of stroking the shaft that had yet felt the heat of your mouth. The sliminess of your tongue as you bathed Steve’s cock in stomach-churning sin, lapping the musk of him from the loose scrotum to the plump head. 
And it was a routine to attempt to take him again. You spat in your hand before lubing his stiff in a glaze that caught the light of his eyes, then the hiccup of his moan. “Fuck, you know I love it when you do that…”
“Yeah?” You smiled, his compliments sent straight to your erection while the sticky sounds of bubbles and drool soiled his cock in pure lust in lazy strokes, then sealed when you wrapped your lips around him again, and pushed down when the pulse of his veins beckoned you.
The size of his cock drew a moan out of you, tremors rimming the shaft while you prepared the opening of your throat little by little. Drool leaked from either corners of your mouth, staining your flushed skin and then the floor, but you hadn’t been bothered to save them despite your reputation of being a clean-freak. 
When it came to Steve, you were in a state of delirium that had forgotten who you were because there was only one purpose on your mind: to pleasure. 
“Shit, (M/N)—“ His hands had left you to fold his arms behind his head, allowing his silhouette to become yours to own and to rapture over as you worked him like one your favorite treats at the candy store. He slipped in and out of you, closer to the barrier of your throat with the help of his thrusts, and the only time you’d take a break was when you suckled on his balls. As his cock hung over your face, head dripping in saliva and thick pre-cum, you found enjoyment in rolling his balls like dice: another one of Steve’s favorite moves.
Steve was heavy on your tongue and the only way you could thank him for blessing you with his fruitful cock, was to love-bomb him with all of his favorite desires. You lined the underside with your tongue until your lips met the pink glans again, speckling it with a playful pecks before weighing his shaft down with your spit once again. “Have you always liked it sloppy?”
“Mm—no…” He murmured, and you looked up into the heaviness of his lids, surprised by his confession. “Not until I met you. For others, it’s kind of gross, but… you do it differently. Tastefully, and I’m not trying to be funny.”
You laughed at the unintentional joke and Steve joined your amusement with a smile, petting the back of your head before it was guided back to swallow him whole this time. Your mouth stretched wide the more he pushed you, burying the remnants of your humored-self into the pit of your throat with the ample of his throbbing erection. Your hands held around his thighs to brace for the oncoming gags and Steve does the same around your head, threading his fingers into your hair with a strong grip as he pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until tears brimmed the highlights of your eyes.
“Holy shit—“ Steve was enamored by the feeling of stuffing you whole. The confines of your mouth and throat restricted the blood flow around him, yet he couldn’t have felt himself pulsate more, stiffen harder in between your godly gags and whimpers. The scratches at his thighs was a telling sign for him to pull you back, and so he does in what felt like slow motion. His cock unsheathed out of your throat like a sleeve, unraveling a spell of gasps and bubbling moans in midst. 
“You did so good, baby… fuck.” Cupping your cheek, he briefly bent down to meet you in the middle of his gratification, kissing you proud and golden on your breathless smile before he tore himself away to spit inside of your mouth and submerging his saliva down your mouth with his cock again. Despite the sting in your eyes and throat, you were compliant to his every move and welcomed the sheathing of his wet flesh in prideful determination.
Steve’s hands had moved to either sides of your head, where he had complete control of every bone and muscle of your neck, and the desire to fuck your tight mouth had become a victorious reality. Your lips pressed into his unkempt hairs when he forced you down again, tasting the sweat that had been harbored within the strands. 
From then on, your gags had only become motivation as he rode the rhythm of your delectable sounds with sharp and eager thrusts. Gasps and coughs stuck to the slick of your throat while Steve’s cock fucked them down in repetitive and selfish strides. Your head moved from the guidance of Steve’s hold, meeting the bow of your head with a forward thrust and ramming into the back of your throat while you spilled sheltered saliva—thick and bubbly in its journey to form a puddle on the floor. He repeated after barely giving you enough time to catch your breath, choking and fucking your mouth with his cock while you writhed on your knees in intimidation. 
Steve sheltered you close, curling his body over you as a satisfied moan added to the thick air when he shoved your head deep in between his legs, keeping you still in midst of your squirms. Whenever you tried to pull back, Steve only thrusted and pushed you further into your struggle for freedom. He drowned you in your own saliva, locked you of your only source of oxygen as your nose pressed deep into his pelvis, and gagged you to the point of leaving scars on his thighs as your fingers curled into his flesh, desperate for a whisper of air to breathe back into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You finally get your wish when he yanked you back, and you inhaled with a slobbering gasp, coughing out the oxygen that he had buried from within you.
Throughout all of this, you gazed beautifully up to him, Steve thought. From the highlights of the whites to the color of your orbs, you glistened like nature past dew point, and his chest swelled in agreement. His heart pulsed faster than the rhythmic sucks and strokes of your mouth and hand as you’ve gone back to sucking him, fisting him into your mouth as your mouth began aching from deep-throating, breath recovering from being face-fucked. It was a curse that you put on him, where he closed his eyes to the merit of your tongue and couldn’t bear to look at you again because if he did, he knew he could come all over your face right then and there.
“Close—fuck.” His shoulders rolled back and one hand pushed the sweat off his forehead back into the fluff of his hair, while the other maintained on your head, keeping you in close proximity.
“Fuck, Steve…” You sniffled, desperately tasting the salt off the tip of his cock while you snapped your wrist back and forth in jerking him off. Your free hand ran over his stomach, then down his flexed thighs, and you squeezed to remind him that he was spellbound under your touch. His gaze casted downwards to meet yours once again, and he nodded as if he understood. 
The pressure on the back of your head hardened, but it was your own will that had you slobbering all over him again. You took him his cock back in with desperation, the memory of how salty he had tasted days prior fortifying your delirious state of mind. You sucked Steve off, swallowed him whole, fucked him into your fist, then into your mouth, and it would repeat until he nested his hand into your hair, tightly curling them into a fist as he came undone into your mouth.
“Fuck—“
Steve’s cock pulsed in heavy bounces and his balls bounced in its drain as he emptied himself inside of you. Warm and thick seed accompanied the fill of your mouth, and your hand reached down to massage his sack, aiding the scrotum to dump the remaining few shots into the pool of cum. Slowly, you pulled back with your lips pressed tight in caution of wasting the fresh fluid, and you swallowed slow and proud, savoring every gulp that ran down your violated throat as if it the cure to the sore. He watched you, panting heavily, and his cleansed cock twitched as you quenched upon his energy for the day. 
“You don't have to swallow it al—“ Before he could finish his question, you stuck your tongue out to reveal the abyss of your mouth, and the limp of his cock roused with one more throb before finally hanging low in between his legs. Steve was left astonished, and there was a flicker in his eyes before he helped you back on your feet. “Come here, I need to kiss you right now.”
A laugh was caught in between your lips when Steve kissed you with a familiar sweetness that always rattled the butterflies in your stomach. He pulled you close to pacify the flutter of their wings, and sighed into you before a hand gently caressed the middle of your throat. “Did I go too hard?”
“I would’ve said something if you did, Steve.” You’d come to realize that it always took more than a smile and comforting words to appease his guilt, and so you pressed fleeting pecks to the center of his lips, then began massaging the sensitive fill of his cock in slow turns. “I mean, if you want, we can go for round two right now and—“
“Okay, okay.” He pressed a laugh into your lips and leaned his forehead onto yours for the moment you two shared a gaze. Looking into you, it dismantled all of his worries, as it did for you, and it was only when the cold bit at his naked body that roused him from the daze.
“I should probably put my clothes back on.”
“Dude, are you saying that isn’t your uniform?” You gasped. 
“Dude,” He took you by the back of your head again and kissed you once, grinning. “Shut up.”
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!
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subskz · 6 months
Note
Hey, I’m glad you’re back!! I’m the anon who asked about the making skz squirt, if you could elaborate more on it I’d really appreciate that!! I’m sorry if the sound wierdly formal lol I don’t really know how to do asks hah😅
thank u babe it’s great to be back!! and no worries at all ur perfectly fine <3 i ended up writing lil drabbles abt chan, lix, n lino based on this ask!
chan (fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms)
Chan was panting. Mouth hanging open, spilling out drool with each labored breath. Chest heaving, glazed with a mix of his sweat and his seed. Each gulp of oxygen was barely enough to satiate him when all the blood in his system was rushing to his hypersensitive length. It left his brain foggy, filled with nothing but you. Your observant gaze setting his skin on fire, your sweet voice lulling him into orgasm after orgasm, your fingers curling methodically inside him, your hand working his cock with a careful grip and a merciless pace.
“Hah, f-fuck!” he choked out. “Oh, God…close, ‘m close.”
You tightened your grip around his cock just as you slid down to its hilt, squeezing it with a force that made his hips surge up. His stomach, splattered with load after load of his cum, clenched wildly as his high drew near once again. He’d lost track of how many times he’d finished already, he’d lost track of anything but the sound of your gentle whispers, promising that you just wanted one more from him. Just one more.
“Please—ah—gonna cum again. Can I? P-please, can I?”
You cooed out loud. Even now, he found a way to make your heart swell in your chest. You’d pushed him well past his usual limit by now—to the point where every muscle in his body was pulsing with exhaustion, to the point where you were surprised he still had anything left in his system each time his seed spurted out of him—and yet, here he was, still remembering to ask you for permission. If both your hands hadn’t been occupied, you would’ve reached out to cup his face affectionately, to run your thumbs over his flushed cheeks and steady the thrashing of his head.
“Got even more for me, Channie?” you murmured. “Such a little giver, aren’t you? You can cum, baby, let it all out.”
Chan keened, his dulcet voice now deliciously hoarse from how much he’d strained it, crying out louder and louder with every new climax he reached. He was far too dizzy to even think about holding it back anymore. You watched with gleaming eyes as he emptied onto his stomach yet again, cock twitching in your palm and walls fluttering around your fingers. There was noticeably less to his release this time, just a few, short ropes spilling from his swollen tip to form a pearly pool at his belly button.
“That’s it, good boy,” you encouraged him. “Look at all that. You’re working so hard for me, huh, angel?”
Your praises anchored him and sent him further into a daze all at once, amplifying each ripple of pleasure that passed through his body. Carefully, you unwrapped your hand from around his aching length to give him a chance to catch his breath, to find his way down from his high and back to you. It took nearly a minute of sharp gasps and shuddering exhales for him to finally find the strength to respond, nodding weakly up at you.
“Doing okay?” he rasped. “Good for you?”
“So good, Channie.” You reached out with your free hand to pet his head, brushing his sweat-soaked curls from his face, soothing the near-delirium creeping up on his consciousness. “My baby's so strong. Taking it all so well, pushing his pretty body to the limit for me.”
A sweet, shy hum built up in the back of Chan’s throat, the laziest of smiles tugging at his lips as he leaned into your hand. You stayed that way for a moment, letting him bask in a touch that—unlike everything else he’d felt for well over an hour—wasn’t designed to set his nerve-endings ablaze. Just as he let his guard down, nuzzling fully into your palm, he felt your other pair of fingers shift suddenly inside of him. Not to pull out completely, rather, to readjust, pressing back against his sweet spot with a fresh lather of lube. It made his breath hitch, and he blinked his eyes open in confusion when the comfort of your hand on his cheek was suddenly lost, pulling away to trail over his tummy instead.
You flattened your palm against it without warning, pressing down on his toned muscles, smearing around the blend of sweat and cum to create a sinful coating over his skin. A full-body shudder ran through him, stomach tightening and hips twisting under your touch. You watched him writhe around in the sheets, relishing in the contracting of his muscles, the stickiness of the fluids, how they painted his body like he was your own personal canvas. Dragging your fingers down the ridges of his abs, you scooped up a portion of his cum and brought your hand back to his length.
Chan hiccuped, shrinking away reflexively, still far too fragile to handle any kind of stimulation. You curled your fingers around him, unfazed as you spread his own seed along his cock.
"Wait—mmph—I thought," he squeaked. "I-I thought...you said—"
“I know, baby. But look how excited you still are.” You gave him a quick, single pump, and he jolted. "I think you’ve got a little more for me, yeah? Just one more, can you do that, Channie?"
A whine met your ears, so rife with desperation that it pooled fresh heat within you. "I..." he sucked in a sharp breath as you began to stroke him again, delicately running all the way down from the swollen head of his cock to its base, already feeling it begin to harden again in your palm. "O-oh, please."
"You’ll do it for me, right? Channie's such a good boy, I know you can take it.”
“M-mm. Good boy,” Chan repeated quietly, eyes going half-lidded, like the words were enough to pull him into a trance. “Yeah, ‘m a good boy. I can do it for you—ah—I’ll do anything.”
You pushed your fingers deeper inside of him and curled up into the tender flesh, purring in approval. “My good boy. My strong boy, always taking whatever I give him.” Your words of adoration paired with the drag of your hands washed his head clear of any concerns, each gentle praise giving him the energy he needed to keep going. “Gonna treat you so good for this, angel.”
He squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper, so overwhelmed by all the different sensations at play that he couldn’t find it in him to absorb his surroundings anymore, to process anything other than the relentless pleasure creeping back up on him. The warm friction of your fist engulfing his cock, the embarrassing squelching sounds that came with every pump—from the lube, from his own cum smearing all over his length—the fullness of your fingers burrowing inside of him. He was already so sensitive under normal circumstances, but now, after being drained over and over to his very last drop, his reactions were more heightened than ever. Every little touch was enough to make him feel like he might burst, sending him closer to the edge at an alarming rate.
Chan’s thighs tensed, teeth sinking into his lower lip to muffle a high-pitched moan as you rolled your palm along his dripping head at the very same instant the pads of your fingers teased his sweet spot.
“Oh, my gosh. Oh, God th-that’s—”
“Good?” you giggled. “You’re so easy, baby. Just a few touches and you’re ready to be used again. Bet I could play with you for the rest of the night if I wanted.”
He could only respond with a broken whine, not trusting himself to speak when his voice was sure to come out as a garbled mess. He clenched tightly around you as you repeated the action, sucking your slick fingers further inside of him, wordlessly begging for what he was too shy to say.
You gave an appreciative hum, admiring the way his spent body was still reacting so eagerly, so willing to endure it as many times as it might take to satisfy you. “Just like that, Channie. Keep it up, okay? Gonna milk my pretty boy dry.”
His mouth fell open again, face scrunching up as you curled over his prostate with more vigor, setting off another jolt of electricity through his veins. You swirled your thumb rhythmically around his slit for good measure, delighted by the way his hands flew out, releasing his death grip on the sheets in search of you.
“Ah, ah!” he gasped. “Gonna…‘m close, gettin’ close again!”
Chan’s features twisted into a look of pure desperation, eyes still sealed tight as he mindlessly grasped around for you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, s’ good. Feels…f-feels…”
“Feels?” you echoed sweetly.
“Good, ngh…'s weird. Think s-something’s gonna—ah! Too much!”
His warning yelp caught you off guard, softening you with concern the moment you were able to properly make out what he was trying to say. But just as you prepared to pause and check on him, Chan’s hips surged up fiercely, lifting his back off the mattress in a movement that only pressed your fingers harder into the roof of his walls. His whole body stiffened, frozen in a mesmerizing arch.
A near-sob escaped him as his orgasm hit—somehow, harder and more all-consuming than any of his previous ones combined. It sent a shiver down your spine to hear the sound ring out shamelessly through the room. Somewhere in the back of Chan’s mind, he faintly registered that the filthy cry echoing in his ears was coming from him, but in that moment, he was far too preoccupied with the intensity of what he was experiencing to care. How the muscles in his abdomen spasmed completely out of his control, how the pleasure that seared through him was so euphoric that it was almost unbearable.
And he was wet. Not just from his perspiration, not just from all the cum you’d smeared on his skin; something thinner, warmer, wetter—and it was everywhere.
You watched in awe as his release shot out of him with a force you’d never seen before, clear fluid spraying all over his stomach, his chest, even reaching as far as his shoulders and neck. It dripped down his rosy cheeks, droplets falling from his tilted jaw and dribbling along the curve of his pecs. Chan seemed to realize midway through that there was definitely something abnormal about the sheer extremity of his climax, because his muscular thighs squeezed around you, trying frantically to close in on each other and put a stop to whatever was happening. His arms flew up to cross over his drenched chest, a weak attempt to hide away what was sure to be a humiliating sight.
When your eyes fell to his heaving stomach, catching sight of the streams traveling along his toned muscles, you felt your own core tighten with arousal. His walls pulsed around your fingers with each spurt, still clenching erratically even as the last few waves of his orgasm had passed through his weary body, like the strength of it was too much to be contained.
As tentatively as you could, you unwrapped your hand from around his cock, allowing it to fall limp against the puddle of fluids on his tummy. Chan’s labored breaths gradually began to even out, only interrupted by a soft, shaky whimper when you removed your fingers from the slippery heat of his hole.
“You made a mess,” you whispered.
Despite the exhaustion creeping up on his senses, Chan’s reaction was immediate. His hazy eyes snapped open, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him as he processed the scene in front of him—the soiled bed, your dripping hand, the juices covering his stomach. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his body to feel any hotter, but the filthy sight instantly proved him wrong, engulfing him with shame.
“Oh my gosh,” he wailed, hands trembling as they came to cover his soaked face. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry.”
You ran your fingers along his thigh with a feather-light touch, careful not to overstimulate him any further. “Shh, don’t apologize, Channie. Look how well you did for me,” you soothed him. “You let it all out, just like a good boy should.”
He whimpered into his palms, unconvinced, completely and utterly mortified by the display he’d just put on for you. His body had never reacted like that before—he hadn’t even known it was possible for it to react like that.
“Th-this is so embarrassing. ‘M sorry,” he mumbled. Disoriented, he scrambled around in the wet sheets, trying to force himself upright. “I’ve n-never…oh my God. 'M so sorry, I’ll clean it up—”
“Easy, baby.” You reached out to rest your hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding under your palm as you gently nudged him back against the mattress. “You’re exhausted. Lie down, let me take care of you.”
Despite Chan’s soft whine of protest, he didn't resist much before complying, falling back against the pillows with a heavy thump. With how fast his head was spinning, coupled with the way his limbs felt like they’d been reduced to jelly, he wasn’t even sure how he’d expected himself to stand, anyway.
Your weight lifted from the bed, leaving him weary in his own mess, still trying to get his breathing under control. His embarrassment didn't die down the entire time you were gone, nor did the adrenaline coursing through his veins. But when you returned with the gentle press of a washcloth against his skin, his muscles finally began to relax, replacing the hot shame in his skin with a comforting warmth.
"You really gave me everything, huh?" you marveled, dabbing tenderly at the fluids drying on his skin. "I'm so proud of you, baby."
Chan murmured something weakly in response, eyelids beginning to droop again as his fatigue from the past hour finally caught up to him. Even if you couldn't make out his slurred reply, you knew one thing for sure. When Chan said that he would do anything for you, he meant anything.
felix (mirror sex, handjob, overstimulation)
You could tell Felix was nervous. Stuck in his head, not entirely there with you.
His sounds came more restrained than usual—breathless moans cut short in his throat, like he couldn't allow himself to indulge for too long. His eyes were wide open and alert, a pair of dark, gleaming full moons, not daring to flutter shut and lean fully into the pleasure you were drawing out of him with each stroke. They flickered around between his reflection and the view of you curled around his body from behind. Legs draped over his thighs to hold them apart with your own, head peeking out from behind him to observe his every twitch and shiver, arms wrapped around his waist as you toyed with his cock.
He looked lost, like a bunny in the woods. Trapped, but still unsure whether he was in any danger or not. All he really knew was that he didn't want to escape.
He cursed under his breath as you picked up the pace of your pumps, a low, rumbling vocalization that added to the flutter of excitement in both your stomach and his. "How is it, Lixie?" You brought your lips close to his ear, brushing against its shell just enough to make goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.
"Ah, good." He furrowed his brows together, adorably concentrated. "Feels really good, th-thank you."
You let out another light puff of air, warm breath fanning over his skin, tickling his hair. "You're holding out on me,” you pouted. “Want me to stop?"
Felix clenched his jaw, stiffening against you. "N-no, please. I really want it. Don't stop touching me, please."
He panicked slightly as your hand slowed its steady pace, an unconvinced hum spilling directly from your lips into his ear, thickening the cloud of lust his mind. "What's got you so tense, angel? You're like a deer in headlights."
His gaze landed back on the sight of himself in the mirror; freckled skin dusted pink, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, lean frame encased snugly with your limbs, but still so rigid. You rested your chin on his shoulder, following his wandering stare, and he nearly squeezed his thighs together when you both caught the sight of his cock, flushed red and throbbing in the cage of your fingers. You didn’t doubt that he would’ve closed his legs completely if yours weren’t prying them apart. Instead, he turned his head to the side; suddenly embarrassed.
“It’s cute,” you giggled, giving his length a playful squeeze. As if to prove your point, it jerked in your grasp, pulsing with another burst of arousal. “That’s not what you’re stressing about, is it, baby?”
Felix swallowed, your simple compliment adding to the coil tightening in his core more than it probably should’ve. “No,” he rasped quietly. “Just…ah. Just wanna make sure I can do this for you. What if I can’t?”
You dragged your fingers along the underside of his dick, taking satisfaction in the ripple you felt pass through his back muscles where they were pressed firmly against your chest. “If it doesn’t work, I still get to see my pretty boy cum,” you reasoned. “Worth it either way, right?”
It was his turn to giggle, quiet and sheepish. Still not fully relaxed, but he at least found the confidence to lift his timid gaze and meet yours in the mirror. His eyes were already so big, so keen, under normal circumstances, but now, blown wide with desire, they captivated you more than ever. Deceptively innocent. They’d shone the exact same way when he’d first asked if you could make this happen, like a curious kitten itching to explore uncharted territory.
He trusted you wholeheartedly to satisfy that curiosity, to work the ins and outs of his body better than he ever could and take him to heights that he could only dream of. He’d practically beamed when you’d agreed to it. So eager, so grateful. The desire was still there burning within him—stronger than ever, actually, when he could feel his high inch closer and closer each time your hand sank down on his cock. He just hadn’t anticipated the apprehension that his thoughts would create along with it. He didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Don’t think so hard about it, Lixie.” You pressed a soothing kiss to his temple. “Empty your cute little head and just focus on feeling good."
Felix let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders slumping slightly, fingers uncurling from their nervous grip on the sheets. With an obedient nod, he allowed himself to loosen up, spurred on by your other hand coming to drift gently down his abdomen, stroking his stomach muscles up and down in a hypnotic rhythm.
"I’ll take care of it all, make sure to make my baby cum just right.”
You pressed another kiss to his cheek as he tilted his head back to rest it on your shoulder, melting into you, toned back relaxing fully against the softness of your chest. Little by little, you peppered his face with calming pecks, relishing in the warmth of his skin, the race of his pulse under your lips. Each soft, wet pucker made his head spin a little more, and he cocked it obediently to the side when you trailed along his jawline down to his neck. Combined with the friction building up on his cock and the playful dancing of your fingers along his abs, it quickly became difficult for him to focus on anything else. Just as you’d coaxed him to do, he stopped thinking for himself.
His mouth fell open to spill out a breathy groan when you paused your pumping to focus on the tip of his cock instead. It was noticeably louder—sweeter without his teeth clamping down to suppress it this time. You curled your fingers around his swollen head, using the precum that had leaked out to add an intoxicating slickness to your movements.
Your eyes gleamed in the mirror, a purr of approval vibrating against Felix’s neck when his thighs jumped under yours, hips bucking into your hand in a plea for more.
“That’s my boy. See how nice it is to let go?” your tongue flicked out to glide carefully up his neck, making his length throb in your palm, harder this time. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. You don't need to think for that."
The last of your words came out muffled as you sank your teeth hungrily into his skin, but Felix still absorbed each one, filling up the blank space in his mind. Your lips closed around his flesh to create a hot, delicious suction, and you had to push back a smile when you felt another shudder run through his body.
"Ah, please. ‘S good, g-gonna—”
He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as you rolled your palm around his leaking tip, stimulating every last nerve-ending with your sticky touch.
“Gonna cum for me?”
He gave a frantic nod, hips jerking up again to the best of their ability, chasing the warmth of your fist on pure instinct. But you kept it firmly wrapped around his head, concentrating solely on his most sensitive spot with expert rolls of your wrist to draw out his orgasm much faster and much more vigorously than he was used to. You swirled your tongue over the deep red ring you’d left on his neck, practically tasting the rapid beat of his his heart. That, coupled with the way you pressed down on his abdomen to keep him steady, sent him over the edge in a matter of seconds.
“Close, ‘m close,” he warned. “Fuck, p-please!”
He emptied into your palm with a choked moan, his low voice reverberating all around you and making your own heartrate spike. You dragged your teeth along his skin, amplifying his pleasure as his release shot out of him, coating your hand and dripping down his length.
“I’m not gonna stop,” you mumbled into his skin. “You want it, right? Want me to keep touching you ‘til you spray all over yourself?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he gasped out. “Don’t stop, please. Ruin me—ngh—mess me up.”
You dragged your hand back down his cock’s base before the last wave of his climax had even passed, spreading the stickiness of his cum wherever your trailed and making him see stars. His voice cracked into a helpless squeak, having no chance to brace himself as you went right back to toying with his sore head. His hips writhed in a frenzy of overstimulation when you pressed your thumb against his slit, making his legs shoot up, thigh muscles contracting so fiercely that you couldn’t hold him down with your own this time.
Another chill ran up your spine as he threw his head back against your shoulder, bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip in weak attempt to hold in his string of curses.
“Gonna get you looking as filthy as your mind is, baby.” You pressed another sloppy kiss to his neck, dragging your lips over his throat as it bobbed with each heavy breath. “C’mon, I know you can do it. Spill it all out for me like a good boy.”
“M-mmph, please,” he whined. It was high-pitched and broken, so different from his usual rich baritone, you had trouble believing the words had come from him for a moment. The initial relief of his climax soon morphed into something more overwhelming, something much less bearable. A painful pang began to accompany each stroke of your hand, but the way it contrasted the nonstop flow of pleasure only pushed him further into bliss. “H-hurts. Hah, hurts s’ good. Please, more.”
You strengthened your grip with a playful click of your tongue as Felix began to squirm around more uncontrollably, his body crying out in protest of what his mind ordered him to do. It was too much and not enough all at once. Every cell in his body said that he couldn’t take any more, but at the same time, he needed it. He needed to feel more than he could bear.
The pleasure of his orgasm never fully ebbed, it only intensified, stretching out into a constant, throbbing ache the more you tortured his cock. There was no gradual build into it this time, no tension tightening little by little in his gut. Just a few more circles drawn into his wet tip, and something ignited deep within him, snapping the final thread.
He couldn’t even think to warn you before it happened, not when he himself wasn’t prepared for the surge of pleasure that burst in his abdomen. It rippled all throughout his stomach and inner thighs, spreading a dizzying heat and making his body thrash under your touch. A sound unlike any you’d ever heard him make before rang out around you. It was a near-shout, oddly cute and shaking pitifully each time he spasmed against you. Your eyes locked on his reflection just in time to see the fluid squirting from his cock, so powerful that it shot past where your thumb was pressed over his slit and spurted into the air.
The moment Felix felt his release splatter against his bare skin, his eyes snapped open, dark and wide, shining with wonder as he took in the sight of himself spraying all over his chest and stomach. The liquid covered your hand completely, dribbling down his pecs and clenching abdomen, splashing on his thighs and soaking into the bed underneath you.
You pressed kisses into his neck without taking your eyes off the mesmerizing display in the mirror, drinking in the roll of his eyes and the hot, red flush that crept up on his skin. He stiffened one last time, emptying the final wave of his release, then collapsed heavily against your chest.
His taut muscles went limp as he tried to catch his breath, a lazy, lopsided smile forming on his face and spilling a trickle of drool from his parted lips.
“Look at you, baby,” you crooned. “You did it.”
You let go of his softening length at last, dragging your soaked hands delicately over his tummy in an effort to wipe them clean. But practically every inch of his skin was dripping with something, and smearing your palms over his skin only added to the sticky mess coating them. Felix stayed panting without a word, eyes hazy and unfocused in the mirror, still smiling like he was lost in a dream.
He nestled into your hand the moment you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated. “Are you with me, Lixie?”
“Mmm.” He shifted under your legs with a soft grunt, trying to twist his exhausted body to face you properly. Instead, he slumped uselessly back against you, with so much force that you nearly toppled into the mattress together.
“How are you feeling?” You gave the crown of his head an affectionate tap, and you might’ve sworn it echoed around in his empty mind.
“Nn…” he slurred something incoherent, ending it with ditzy giggle. “You…s’good.”
Fondness made you break out into a smile. You unwrapped your limbs from around him just long enough to help adjust his position, nudging him around so he could fall fully into you, chest to chest. You suppressed a shiver as you felt the fluid that coated his skin begin to seep through your shirt. But neither of you had it in you to care about the mess, not when Felix was still barely floating on the edge of awareness and you were too preoccupied with bringing him back down to earth. He nuzzled into your neck with another fit of giggles, wrapping his arms and legs around you in a grip that was surprisingly tight given how far-gone he was.
“Did it. I did it,” he mumbled through his laughter, airy and uncontrollable, shaking his shoulders with delight. “You touch me so good. Make me feel s’ good.”
You hummed, half-amused, half-endeared as you rested your hand on the back of his head to draw him closer to you. “Cause you deserve it, baby. A good boy like you deserves to feel so good.”
His puffs of laughter faded into a sweet sigh when you pressed a kiss to his hair. It eased your mind a bit that he was at least grounded enough to mirror the action, puckering his lips against the skin of your neck, warm and wet with drool that he tried feebly to suck back into his mouth.
“S’good,” he repeated. His voice was drowsy, sounding mere seconds away from drifting off completely. But even the exhaustion creeping up on his senses couldn’t block out the words that always came.
“Love you.”
lino (pegging, edging, slight feminization)
Minho’s cry was like music to your ears, honey voice tinged with a frustrated rasp as you halted your movements yet again, just seconds away from finally sending him over the edge. His body barely processed the sudden loss of stimulation, cock twitching eagerly against his stomach, like it was expecting to be granted release any moment now.
But it never came. Just another few pitiful drops of precum dripping from his swollen head, forming a sticky puddle on his skin. It delighted you just as much as it drove him crazy.
“A-ah, again?” he whimpered. His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a fit of distress, clawing for purchase to try and press his body further down against your strap. “No, no, no. Why?”
You cooed, watching with an amused smile as he began to grind his hips in an unsteady rhythm, thick thighs squeezing around you, desperate to cling to the remnants of pleasure that were quickly escaping him.
“Putting in work, Lino? Maybe I should keep this up.”
“Not fair, ‘s not fair.” He gave a shaky roll of his body with the hopes of gaining some kind of friction, but it only resulted in another helpless grunt when he couldn’t hit his sweet spot properly. “I didn’t do anything. Why are you being so mean?”
“Quit whining.” You gripped his rocking hips, digging your fingers into his soft flesh to pin him to the mattress. “I just can’t get enough of you, right? So obsessed with my baby that I wanna fuck him for as long as I can.”
The excuse was sickeningly sweet, and even with Minho’s head in a haze, he could hear your taunt in it; throwing his own words back at him. He’d only been teasing you when he’d said them. It wasn’t fair.
“Then don’ stop anymore,” he slurred. “Make me cum over ‘n over, just…j-just lemme…”
He trailed off with another miserable whine, shutting himself up just in time to suppress the plea was building on his tongue. The corners of his lips curled into an irresistible pout as he squirmed restlessly under your hands, aching for even the slightest bit of movement on your part to keep him from losing his last shred of sanity.
“Oh, baby. We both know you couldn’t handle that,” you frowned down at him, a perfect mockery of the pout he was shooting you. Bit by bit, agonizingly slow, you began to pull out, feeling his stomach expand under your palms as he sucked in a sharp breath. “You haven’t even cum once and you can barely speak.”
He hated how the glide of your hips immediately proved your point, fizzling out any response that he scrambled to muster up. Even more than that, he hated how ready he was to accept it. He didn’t want to talk back anymore. It was too hard, too much work. All he wanted was to feel that delicious stretch again, over and over, to be filled to the brim with you. All he wanted was you.
Once you’d eased out so he was left twitching around nothing but the tip of your strap, you surged forward, burrowing back into him all at once. Minho’s whole body jolted, back arching and a gasp tearing from his lips. He was grateful you couldn’t feel just how desperately he was clenching around you, walls tightening around your strap to bask in every inch of it pressed against him.
“It’ll feel even better this way, okay? Promise. All you have to do is lie there and look pretty for me.”
You repeated the action, dragging your hips back leisurely, just enough to earn an impatient whine, then pushing in all the way to the hilt with even more force than before. His eyes shot open as you pressed against his weakest spot, locking on you with a stare so deep, so hungry, that you nearly faltered. He raised his trembling thighs little by little, hooking them properly around your waist to pull you in deeper.
“You—ah—you think ‘m pretty?” he managed a grin. It was lazy, lopsided, the look of someone who knew the answer full well, but still needed to hear it. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heart skip a beat.
“Mm.” You brought a hand to his face, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes, giving you a full view of just how glazed with desire they’d become. “Pretty enough to put up with.” You moved down his cheeks, trailing over the flushed skin with a care that contrasted your quickening thrusts. “Pretty enough to fuck you so good, even when you don’t deserve it.”
Your fingers rubbed over his glossy lips, tracing their shape, swiping up the saliva that had dribbled out when he spoke. You were surprised he even had any words left in him. By now, he’d usually know nothing but the one he dreaded most, spilling out of him after all the stubbornness had effectively been fucked out of his system. Denying him just a few times was all it took to get him babbling it over and over, apologizing for what he’d done and demanding in the sweetest voice for you to stop being so mean and just give it to him already. Please, please, please.
But Minho was right. Today, he hadn’t done anything wrong, certainly nothing to warrant being edged more times than his foggy mind could count. It was just fun for you to watch him fall apart. His patience had crumbled long ago, and his pride was following suit.
“Gimme, then. Wanna—hah—wanna feel good already,” he demanded weakly. “You think ‘m prettiest like that, right? I know you wanna see me c-cum.”
You gave an especially hard rock of your hips, making Minho’s mouth fall wide open, head tilting back to sink into the pillows. His eyes fluttered shut again when you pushed two of your fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He sighed softly, a sound of pure relief, plush lips wrapping around the digits instantly and coating them with hot saliva.
“I think you’re prettiest like this,” you murmured. “With your fussy mouth full, taking whatever I give you like a good boy.”
Good boy. It made him shiver. Something he so rarely heard you call him; he couldn't deny how much he craved it, even when he did everything in his power to convince you otherwise. He didn't want to act like a good boy, but he wanted to be treated like one.
Matching the pace of your rocking hips, you began to pump your fingers in and out of his mouth. They glided along his slick tongue and grazed against his bunny teeth, earning a cute, muffled mewl each time you pushed all the way in, right down to your knuckles. The look on Minho’s face was one of pure bliss as he drooled around them, the kind of look you only saw his delicate features form when he was completely full of you, both in body and mind.
“There we go. So much cuter when you’ve got nothing to say,” you purred. “Keep sucking like that, and maybe I’ll give you what you want so bad.”
You adjusted the angle of your hips to snap forward deliberately sharper, brushing the tip of your strap against his prostate and making his stomach twist with pleasure. All at once, that familiar ache made its presence known again. If the way Minho all but sank his teeth into your flesh wasn’t enough to warn you that he was getting close, his choked moan surely was. It rumbled against your fingers, coating them with a fresh layer of spit that sent a chill up your spine.
His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a death grip, veins protruding up his forearms, ankles locking behind you to keep his shaky legs in place. Instead of continuing to pull all the way out of him, you alternated to more shallow thrusts, repeatedly grinding against his sweet spot with barely a moment for him to recover between each jolt of electricity it sent through his senses. You teased his tongue rhythmically with the pads of your fingers, admiring the sinful sight to your heart’s content when his eyes were too busy squeezing shut to glare up at you.
Minho clamped down around you suddenly, so tight that it took extra effort for you to pull out even a little bit. A garbled noise rose in his throat, and it took you a moment to realize that he was trying to say something. You dragged your fingers out of his mouth, much to his discontent, thick strings of drool connecting them to his lips.
“What is it, baby?”
He sucked in a deep breath, swallowing down all the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. “S-say it. Say it again.”
You pulled out inch by inch. “Hm?”
“Call me g’boy,” he whined. “Wan—mmph. Wanna hear you say it again.”
A mischievous smile tugged at your lips just as Minho’s eyes blinked open. You hesitated before indulging him, and that, coupled with your strap remaining motionless halfway inside him, had him writhing around frantically in no time.
“You gotta be a good boy for me to call you one, right? Say please, Lino.”
It was his turn to hesitate, eyebrows furrowing into a desperate scowl. He held back for a split-second too long, gasping pathetically as you rammed back against his prostate.
“Quick baby, before you get too dumb to speak anymore.”
“Ah, please,” he didn’t waste a moment this time before begging. The word was pure honey on his tongue, growing more desperate as you drew your hips back again. “Please, please. Call me g-good boy. Wan’ cum.”
With a hum of approval, you brought your hand, still slick with his spit, down to his cock. You surged back inside him just as you began rubbing your thumb around his head in rapid circles, smearing his precum around and making his brain go haywire.
“Cum for me like a good girl.”
Minho’s entire body went hot. He tensed up beneath you, legs stiffening around your waist, hands bunching the sheets with so much force that his nails dug into the mattress. White, searing pleasure overtook him, rippling through his nerve-endings straight to his cock. It pulsed in your hand, shooting out a stream of fluid that was far more powerful than either of you were used to. Your noise of surprise was completely drowned out by the broken cry he released, sweet voice shaking with every shock of pleasure that passed through him, spraying more fluid all over your skin and his.
You admired each spurt that spilled past your fingers, tilting his length so that his release splashed against his heaving stomach. Minho seemed to notice, vaguely, that something was very much off about the extremity of his climax and the way it was thoroughly drenching his body with some unfamiliar substance. But his jaw had gone slack, unable to get out anything but moan after pitiful moan. He couldn’t even find it in him to open his eyes and process what was going on.
Finally, the last few drops of liquid dribbled from his slit, trickling down his length as it fell limp against his tummy. He was left trembling in the aftershocks, mouth still hanging open, like he’d forgotten how to close it.
You waited until his panting died down into more peaceful breaths, and then you spoke.
“Minho,” you whispered, running your hands gently up his drenched sides. He shuddered under your touch as you pulled out of him, still hypersensitive from the orgasm that had just rocked him to his very core. “Are you okay?”
He could only grunt in response, a reluctant, flustered sound in the back of his throat. Tentatively, you unlatched his spent thighs from around you and rested them against the mattress to allow him to relax his muscles. The cool, wet sensation spreading in the sheets beneath him made his skin burn impossibly hotter, and he turned his head to the side, giving you a clear view of his red ears.
“Talk to me, baby, can you do that?”
Minho softened a bit as your hand came to brush over his flushed cheek, just below where his long lashes rested. Still, the shame consuming his mind was nowhere near ebbing—shame from his embarrassing lack of control over his own body, and on top of that, shame that he’d loved every bit of it. He kept his eyes stubbornly sealed shut and his head turned away, not trusting himself to look at you without crumbling instantly.
“M fine,” he mumbled. Quiet, demure, nothing like the filthy sounds that had been spilling from his mouth minutes ago. “Just…”
“Shy?”
He hesitated, then nodded into the pillow, slick thighs rubbing together over the mere memory of what had just happened.
“You're simpler than I thought,” you teased. “Is that all it takes for you to listen? Just gotta tell you to do it like a good girl?”
A low groan escaped him, and you might’ve thought it was purely out of annoyance if it weren’t for the way his cock twitched at the words all over again. “Seriously,” his voice rose into a dramatic whine. “What are you doing to me? 'M all messed up.”
You shushed his fussing with a drag of your index finger along his lower lip. Before he could take it between his teeth like you knew he would, you used it to take hold of his chin instead, tilting his face carefully back into view.
"What's the problem?" you murmured. “You're prettiest like this.”
1K notes · View notes
springtyme · 2 months
Note
Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.
So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.
I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!
Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡
Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!
Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕
word count: 2.0k
a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.
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Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”
Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.
You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”
You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.
Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”
“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.
Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.
“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.
He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.
As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.
Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.
It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.
“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.
Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.
“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”
Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.
“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.
Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.
Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.
“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.
You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.
Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.
You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”
“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.
You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.
You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.
Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.
And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.
As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move
“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.
Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.
“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.
“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”
You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.
As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.
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kmazine · 7 months
Text
[ 05:15 PM ]
"That's pretty. Someone gave you flowers?" Seungcheol asks as you settle in the passenger seat. You shook your head.
"No. I bought it. We went to the flower shop nearby to buy flowers for our new manager then I saw this flower and it's too pretty so I bought it" You smiled at him before you avert your gaze back to the bouquet of flower in your hand, all giddy and excited.
You smiled, the light hue of pink and blue of the baby breath together looks so pretty and cute so you decided to buy one.
"You know you can just tell me and I will buy it for you, right?" Seungcheol said, crossing his arms against his chest as he pouts. He knows you love flowers and he hope he's the one that bought that flowers for you instead so he can be the reason of that giddy smile of yours.
"I know and you always bought me flowers even when I don't tell you to" You reminded him. He squinted his eyes at you with faux annoyance.
You giggles and pinched his cheek before hands him the bouquet.
"This is for you"
He tilts his head and blinks at you for a few times and slowly taking the bouquet from your hands.
"Me?" His brow furrows and his eyes wander between your face and the flowers in his hands.
"Yeah" You giggle, didn't expect him to be that surprised.
You're about to wear your seatbelt before immediately it slip off your grips, startled at his out of nowhere question.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
"Wait, what?"
It was silent for a few seconds before you crack up and burst into laughter ㅡ both amused and in disbelief.
Seungcheol on the other hand, wasn't that amused, that you're wheezing at his question and at this confusing situation overall.
You took a deep breath and wipe the tears forming at the edge of your eyes. Your stomach hurts and you took a deep breath while caressing your chest, trying to calm yourself down.
"I'm sorry. I can't believe you ask me that just because I bought you flowers" You chuckle before you lean closer towards him and give his cheek a peck.
"It's because I love you, honey. Your favourite flower remind me of you." His cheeks flushed red as he grins at your explanation and you want to tease him so bad but you decided not to, and just let your man enjoy appreciating the flowers in his hand.
"I seriously need to pamper my man more." You chuckle as you buckled your seatbelt. Your heart swell with so much love with the way he look at the flowers and you with his lovely gaze and infectious smile, as his dimple making appearance.
Seungcheol suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and leans towards you before he cups your face with his hands and gently pulls you into a long and sweet kiss.
"Thank you, love." He whispers. Now it's your cheeks that feels hot and flushed pink, making him smiles against your lips.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cheol" You snicker at him when he said he trust you more to protect his flower than the back seat. So you end up holding the bouquet the whole drive home while your other hand folded with his.
And now you made it your life mission to pamper him with more flowers.
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[ my other works / masterlist ]
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a/n : Idk I just typed this and post.
I swear I have other members and other groups and 3478 more seungcheol post in my drafts but everything remind me of Seungcheol so I just wrote new one and post lol. I didn't proofread or check so I'll edit any grammatical error and typo later. I hope you guys enjoy reading this.
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cosmos-coma · 4 months
Text
My Sun, My Star- Part 2
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 7476 (whoops)
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.
Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
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“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”
He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 
“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.
“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  
Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 
“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.
As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 
“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 
“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 
“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 
Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”
“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 
“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 
“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 
“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 
----
You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.
Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 
“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.
You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 
Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 
“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 
“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.
“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 
He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.
“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.
“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 
“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….
“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“
“But I-“ 
“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 
You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 
You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.
“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 
“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 
“Doll, I’m sorry-”
“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”
You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 
“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.
Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.
You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 
You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 
You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 
When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 
Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 
A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 
“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.
“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 
“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 
“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”
“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 
“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.
 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”
You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?
You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 
But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 
“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.
You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”
Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”
“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 
Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 
“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 
You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”
“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.
You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 
Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”
Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 
Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”
You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”
“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 
You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 
You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 
“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 
Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 
You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 
This was it. 
--------
Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.
“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 
“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.
“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 
Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-
The apartment. 
Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.
“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 
Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 
“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 
“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.
“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 
“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 
“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.
“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 
A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 
Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 
You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.
Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 
“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 
His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 
He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.
You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 
“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 
You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 
“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 
You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 
After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 
‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘
With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.
Silence.
You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 
Quiet.
Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 
With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.
---------
Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 
The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 
Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 
“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 
Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 
He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 
Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 
“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?
He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.
Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.
He would take care of you. 
“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  
Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.
What did he do to you…?
-----
You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 
You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”
“It’s Bucky…”
You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 
“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 
As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 
“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.
“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 
He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 
“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”
But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.
“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 
You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.
You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.
As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.
Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 
He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 
You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 
Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 
“He…” 
Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.
“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.
“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 
Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 
The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 
He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 
When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 
Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 
“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”
“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”
You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 
Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 
“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 
“Doll…” 
“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.
“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”
Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 
“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”
_____________
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fredwkong · 9 months
Text
The Boxers
Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.
I used to be a pretty normal guy. Wait, scratch that, I was a total fuckin’ nerd. I spent all my time playin’ video games and readin’ fantasy books and shit. I was getting a degree in computer science, so I spent all my time alone, coding shitty apps and nerding out on Reddit.
I had, like, no sex life, lmao. I was a weedy little Indian geek, bro, you know the type, right? I had negative game. Every weekend, I’d spend all night playing WoW or whatever, then go to bed and fantasise about how many bros I’d get once I was, like, CEO of a multibillion dollar startup.
I guess the universe looked at me one day and said, “Why wait, bro?”
I got back to my dorm one night and these, like, gross boxers were sitting right on my floor. I remember I thought they were totally lame, because they had the Sriracha logo all over them. “Who wears those but nasty frat boys?” I thought to myself. Huhuhu, little did the old me know.
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Anyway, these boxers were totally messing up the vibes of my dorm. I used to be such a neat freak, bro. A place for everything, and everything in its place. A smelly, used pair of boxers made my skin crawl. So, obvi, I went to pick them up with two of my slim little fingers and toss them in the trash. I figured it was some kind of gross prank on me.
Once I’d picked ‘em up, I could see exactly how dirty those boxers were. The legs were stiff with layers of musky sweat, the smell wafting off them strong enough to make my eyes water. There were a couple of grease stains on them, like some dude had eaten dinner in just his undies. The crotch was crusty, too. Someone, maybe multiple someones, had cum in these boxers.
I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.
Rather than taking the Sriracha boxers to the trash like I’d planned, I found myself giving them a second sniff, and then a third. Goddamn, they were fuckin’ gross, bro. I thought it was just my disgust making me smell them over and over again. Like I was trying to figure out exactly what had gotten on them.
Before long, I was palming my lil cock through my slacks, holding the boxers close to my face with my other hand. It was, like, a total head rush every time I took another sniff. Like I could feel my brain blanking out as I took more and more of the musky stench into me. Not that I knew that was what was actually happening, huhuhu.
When I stripped off my pants and undies to jerk off better, I suddenly had an awesome idea. I could, like, wear the Sriracha boxers and jerk off in them. My brain was already at least halfway transformed by then, lol. I was definitely no nerd at that point. The idea of wearing another guy’s musky boxers got me so fuckin’ turned on.
I pulled the boxers up my skinny brown legs. They hung on my hip bones, barely able to stay on. I laid down on my bed and felt my rock hard cock through the crusty fabric. It was like I could feel the cum and sweat of everyone who’d ever worn that underwear seeping into my skin as I massaged drops of precum out of my balls.
As I writhed on my sheets, lost in pleasure, my skinny Indian body started to change. It started with my feet, which cracked and stretched as they grew big and thick. They started to sweat, a funky foot musk joining the renewed stench of the Sriracha boxers, which were getting super wet with my precum. It was like the brown leached out of my skin with my musky foot sweat, too, as my big feet got all pale.
The change continued up my bare calves, which got super hairy as the muscles flexed and swelled. My legs lengthened as huge quads and hammies swelled up under my whitening skin. God, said my musk-addled mind, I love leg day. I started to flex and wiggle my bulky thighs, feeling the muscles stimulate my growing prostate.
I let out a high pitched little bitchboy moan as my ass inflated with juicy muscle and fat, but I knew that my voice wouldn’t sound like that for much longer. I’d totally embraced the transformation as my cock and balls filled out the pouch of the boxers. They were no longer, like, loose and shit. My fat ass and big bro cock were stretching the sweaty fabric to its limits, bro!
My chest followed, going from slim to bulky so fast that all the buttons on my nerd shirt hit the ceiling. Sweat instantly started to roll off my furry new pecs, and I ran my soft little hand up and down my thick, firm belly and flexed the solid abs I knew were underneath the fat. More than the boxers and the smell, my body was starting to turn me on, bruh. I was becoming, like, a total frat god.
The curly brown hair that grew in my armpits smelled sooooo good as sweat started to drip off it. I totally buried my little nerd face in my own pits and licked up my sweat as I watched my arms bulk up and get all pale and hairy. It was so hot flexing my bicep and watching it bulk up before my eyes, dude! I felt my hand grow as I tugged my big jock cock in the Sriracha boxers, thickening up and getting some hard-earned weightlifting calluses.
The last thing to change was my head. My moans got deeper, slower, and totally dumb-sounding as my neck thickened. A thick brown beard grew on my cheeks, framing my cheesy dumb smile perfectly. My nose cracked and grew into a big ol’ sniffer, even more sensitive than my old nose so I can really take in my bros’ musk.
My old black buzzcut grew out into a curly brown mane, totally greasy from all the sweat I soak it with when I work out, huhuhu. As my forehead got all pale and my eyes turned blue, I felt my cock go over the edge, and I came right into the Sriracha boxers. Pump after pump of musky frat bro cream, taking my old self with it to impregnate the boxers with even more fratty juice. As the room filled with the smell of my thick load, I totally passed out.
The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. I was in a big bed with musky, sweat-stained sheets, a bunch of stale, unwashed gym gear all over the floor. I was still wearing the Sriracha boxers, my cum caked into the stain along with all the other bros’, along with a cap that I turned backwards as I sat up. I pulled on a tank without too many sweat stains on it and went to explore.
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Turned out I lived at the Mu Upsilon Sigma frat house now. The whole place smelled like a sweaty armpit, and it was full of musky bros who were more than happy for me to get all up in their smelly pits and cracks.
I wore the Sriracha boxers for a couple days. Honestly, I dunno how long, I usually only change my boxers like once a month, huhuhu. I worked out, jerked off, got drunk, got fucked, and jerked off some more, all while wearing those boxers. Then I left ‘em in some nerd’s dorm as a prank, huhu.
It was so hot to watch the lil Japanese guy get as zonked out on the musky boxers like I had, bro. We hid in his closet and watched while he jerked off and turned into another musky white frat boy like us, then carried him to the MYS house once he passed out.
It’s been a couple weeks since then, and MYS membership has only grown, bruh! Each bro wears the Sriracha boxers for a few days, adds his personal touch to the, like, seasoning, and then we pass ‘em on to another nerd and induct him into frat life! Maybe some night soon, you’ll see these bad boys in your dorm, huhuhu. Life's perfect in the frat, bro!
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