#but uh. i can use other prompts to finish
Drabble | Ficlet | ●●● | teen Lawrusso | adult Lawrusso |
Prompt used: I'm sure you can figure it out
(Post-season 3, new relationship, shameless PWP, coming dry, s3x toy, some dirty talk, Daniel is insatiable but they're old men)
Johnny's woken up by two things. One: someone's sitting on his lap. And two: there's a hand on his dick.
"Come on, Johnny, I-I need it again."
Johnny blinks the grit of sleep from his eyes, half convinced that he's dreaming, because yeah, Daniel definitely has one hand on Johnny’s dick and one in his own ass, the wet squelch of lube loud in the stunned silence between them.
"Jesus, LaRusso…" Johnny glances at the alarm clock, does a little math in his head and lets out a stunned snort of laughter. "It's 2 am. I fucked you less than three hours ago."
Daniel blows out a frustrated whine as he works his hand on Johnny's cock. "I know but—"
"You need it again," Johnny smirks, wiggling his brows. "Yeah, I heard you."
Daniel is barely half-hard, but he looks desperate, fucking his fingers in and out of himself, and he makes a valiant effort to get Johnny's dick interested, pulling all the tricks, but Johnny’s still recovering from their previous workout. They did some sparring after Daniel finished his paperwork at the dealership, one thing led to another, which in turn led them to the bedroom (after a stop at the kitchen counter) and Johnny definitely feels it in his obliques. And his dick.
"Sorry, man. I don't think it's getting up for a few more hours."
Daniel purses his lips and let's go of Johnny's cock, but judging by the stubborn groove between his brows, he's not ready to give up. He reaches for the nightstand, and Johnny lets out an annoyed oof at the sudden elbow in his stomach as Daniel begins to rummage through the drawer.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Daniel bites his lip, his smile sly in the blue shadows. "I'm not doing anything, you are," he pulls out a giant dildo and slaps Johnny in the chest with it, "with this."
Johnny blinks at the fake dick. "Uh. I am?" He's been fucking Daniel long enough to know the guy loves to be stuffed full of cock, but apparently not long enough to know that any cock will do.
Daniel presses a kiss to the stunned O of Johnny's mouth. "Don't look so scandalized. You should know what I like by now."
"Oh trust me, LaRusso, I know," Johnny huffs, reaching behind Daniel's back to rub at his hole. His fingers sink in like a hot knife through butter. “You're insatiable." He fucks Daniel with three thick fingers until his mouth falls open around a satisfied groan. “So fucking loose. And wet. You should let me fuck you raw more often."
Daniel throws his head back and clenches around Johnny's fingers. "Come on, Johnny, you sure you can’t go again?"
Johnny glares at his traitorous cock, limp against the crook of his thigh. "Afraid not. Unless you have a DeLorean."
"A what?" Daniel snorts, his slender fingers gliding over slick silicone as he lubes his toy. "Oh, I get it. You wanna go back in time and give it to me all over again?"
"Nah, man, I'd go straight to '85 and fuck you without any stupid dick charging breaks."
Daniel rolls his eyes, the arch of his brows skeptical. "You really think we could have made this work right after high school?” He points at himself and pokes at Johnny’s chest. “Seriously? Us?"
Johnny shrugs, feeling optimistic. "I don't know, you were pretty cute back then. Too bad you were also an obnoxious little punk who liked to steal other guys' girlfriends."
Daniel puffs his chest and opens his mouth to argue, but Johnny pulls him down by his hair, stopping the oncoming tirade with a sleep-stale kiss.
"Relax, LaRusso, you know we’re past all that shit." He gives Daniel another kiss and pinches his ass. "Though you're still an obnoxious little punk." Daniel gives him another smack with the dildo, leaving a wet lube stain on Johnny's left pec. "Hey! You want that thing in your ass or not?"
Daniel sticks his bottom lip out in a pout that should look ridiculous on a middle-aged man, but somehow it works as well as it did thirty years ago.
He settles over Johnny's thighs and gifts him with a view of his ass, round and marked with Johnny’s own hand prints from earlier, and how the hell can his dick sleep through a sight like this, Johnny will never understand.
He grabs the dildo and lets it flop from side to side, doing his best not to laugh. “So, uh, how’s this supposed to work?”
Daniel grins at Johnny over his shoulder, gives a little shrug. “I’m sure you can figure it out, big guy.”
Yeah, sure. Johnny can figure it out. He knows how to screw Daniel's brains out, doesn’t matter if the dick isn’t attached to him. He parts Daniel’s cheeks with his thumbs and takes a moment to appreciate the view, rubbing at the loose gape of his rim.
Some of the babes he dated before Shannon were pretty wild in the sack, but no one’s wanted him like Daniel who's kind of making Johnny forget that he's a washed up, fifty-tree-year-old, somewhat functioning alcoholic.
He’d half-expected things to simmer down after the first couple of months, but the fire’s still burning hot and he’s starting to think he and LaRusso might be in a… committed relationship or something a lot like it, because the last time someone cooked for him, touched his dick without forcing him to grovel for it, and curled up against his side at night (and drooled on his shoulder, because the secret behind Daniel LaRusso's charming car salesman smile is a goofy retainer), well, it's been a while.
“Come on, Johnny, don’t make me wait,” Daniel whines, tilting his hips like he’s presenting himself.
Johnny crooks his fingers and finds Daniel’s prostate, circling it until Daniel shivers in his lap. “Say please.”
“You’re—ah—the worst.” Daniel glares at him over his shoulder, eyes full of fire. He twists his mouth into a sour line, but he must be real desperate, because there's a quiet please in the breath that leaves his lips.
“There you go. That wasn't so hard," Johnny grins. He sets the toy over Daniel’s hole and watches it stretch around the blunt head as Daniel sinks down on it, the wings of his shoulder blades shifting under his tan skin.
“Fuck. I’d forgotten how big it is,” Daniel pants, but he takes it like a champ, grinding down on it until Johnny's knuckles are pressed into his ass, “but not as big as you.”
Johnny lets out a quiet laugh at the blatant flattery, but his ego’s not threatened by a silicone toy. He knows how much Daniel enjoys the real thing, but he does have some questions.
“How long have you had this thing?
“A while…” Daniel says, clearing his throat.
“Oh yeah?” There are some things they don’t talk about, the big D word that wasn't finalized until recently being one of them, but Johnny has a feeling that Daniel was taking it up the ass long before he and Amanda called it quits. “You use it when I’m not here?”
“Sometimes. You want me to give you a show, Johnny?” Daniel asks, voice raspy like he’s seventeen again, and yeah, Johnny totally would have fucked his tiny Italian ass if he hadn’t been such a mess throughout their senior year.
He tightens his grip on the dildo and gives Daniel’s bruised ass cheek a slap. “Yeah, show me how well you take a cock, LaRusso.”
Daniel breathes in, slow and deep like he does when they do kata, and starts to fuck himself on the toy. And what a show it is. Johnny feels a hot punch of arousal in his gut, watching Daniel’s pink rim stretch taut around the shaft as he sinks down on it over and over again.
And he’s definitely used it before, angling his hips and rides the toy, and there’s a weird disconnect between Johnny's senses. He smells Daniel’s sweat, strong and musky because Johnny didn't let him shower earlier, hears the throaty grunts rolling past his lips, but there’s no slick heat around his cock, and maybe it’s the power of will or sheer jealousy, but he finally begins to chub up against his thigh.
“Well, I'll be damned." He gives himself a couple of strokes and pulls the toy out of Daniel's ass.
"Hey! Why'd you—"
"You ready for the real thing?”
Daniel looks over his shoulder, his eyes fuck-hazy and half-lidded. “Huh?”
Johnny gives him a lopsided smirk and rubs his cock against Daniel's lube-slick hole.
“Oh, John,” Daniel throws his head back and lets Johnny feed his cock into him, clenching around the shaft. “You got it up for me.”
“‘Course I did,” Johnny pants, curling his fingers around Daniel’s hips as he thrusts up, grinning at the surprised cry of pleasure that punches out of Daniel's lungs. “I know how much you wanted it.” He gets his hand on Daniel’s cock and gives it a good, firm tug. “Needy slut.”
Johnny’s got no idea why Daniel blows a fuse whenever he calls him names during class or sparring sessions, tame stuff like princess or sugar tits, but when they’re in the bedroom, the filth that comes out of Johnny’s mouth drives him fucking wild.
He fucks into Daniel as hard as he can with a back that’s sore from training and fifty plus years of mileage. Daniel's doing most of the work, though, riding Johnny like it's their first time all over again. Johnny lets his hands wander over his wiry muscles and parts that are soft with age, cups Daniel's little tits to feel them jiggle against his palms.
Johnny pinches Daniel's nipples and gives him a couple of hard, rapid thrusts until Daniel lets out a high-pitched wail, his legs trembling against Johnny’s thighs as he spurts out a few watery drops of come.
Johnny’s own orgasm hits him like a freight train and he grits his molars together, arching up from the bed as he teeters on the edge of pleasure and pain, and Christ, is he even jizzing?
Daniel has worn him out before, but Johnny sinks into the mattress like his limbs are made out of lead, dick so raw that he whimpers when Daniel slides off it.
“You okay?” Daniel asks, hovering over Johnny, stroking his fingers through his sweat-matted hair.
Johnny blinks up at him, his vision swimming with bright shapes. “Y-yeah.”
“That was pretty intense, huh?” Daniel laughs, curling against Johnny’s flank, sweat-slick and hot like a furnace. He rolls his neck until he hears a satisfying crack and rests his head on Johnny’s shoulder. “Maybe we should drop the balance wheel from tomorrow’s lesson?”
Johnny lets out a slightly horrified wheeze of laughter. “You really think we’re even getting out of this bed after that workout?”
“We could take a personal day?” Daniel says, grinning up at Johnny. He trails his fingers through the sparse hairs between Johnny's pecks and drags them down over the swell of his abs.
Johnny wraps his arm around Daniel’s flank and pins his hands against his chest to keep them from wandering anywhere near his nether regions. "Why do I get the feeling that the balance wheel is gonna be less hazardous to my health than a whole day in bed with you, LaRusso."
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For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww)
lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well
"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."
Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)
Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.
Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.
It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.
“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”
Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.
“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”
Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.
“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.
“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”
“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.
So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal.
It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.
He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.
“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”
“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”
“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.
First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out. Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!
Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”
The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.
“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”
“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”
“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”
Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”
Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”
Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?
At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”
“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”
“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”
Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better! What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.
“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”
Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”
That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”
“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!”
More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”
“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”
“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”
Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.
“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”
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A/N: This is for my @bnhabookclub bingo card where I had the prompt ‘Cockwarming!’ enjoy sinners (:<
Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Kirishima x Reader, Sero x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Hawks x Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, cockwarming, (also breeding kink and dumbification in hawks’ whoops sorry)
-Bakugou normally isn’t one to instigate cockwarming
-It’ll normally be when you’re needy and he’s doing something like paperwork for his hero agency and isn’t saying much but you can tell he’s tired and won’t exactly want to fool around
-But as soon as he realises how wet you are and how much you’re begging for him to touch you he can’t say no to his pretty baby all riled up
“Just come sit here for one second you shitty woman.” He grumbles, pushing his desk chair back ever so slightly after your insistent whining for him to pay attention to you.
He turns the spinning chair to you, his lap open wide and ready for you to sit on to which you happily oblige, sitting your butt down on his crotch for him to just grab your waist tightly.
“Not like that.” Within a brief spin you’re sitting with your chest to his, legs straddling his own as he tucks his chair back under the desk.
“Katsu- come on please.” You whimper, grinding your sopping core against his jeans where you can feel his cock hardening beneath you. With a short ‘hrmph’ you feel his hands slip between the two of you so he can pull his cock out in the open. You grind yourself on his thigh for a few moments as he fists his member at the feeling of you against him.
“Come on then needy girl, slide on my cock.” The smirk on his face is devilish and you slide down your panties from beneath your oversized shirt (which was one of his, just so you could tease him further. You knew how much he loved you in his shirts).
Moaning slowly as you move down his cock for the stimulation of feeling full, you begin to buck your hips against his once you’re down to his hilt- before he grabs your waist tightly; enough to leave spots of bruises.
“Now sit there and be a good fuckin’ girl.” He slides his arms past you, looking over your shoulder as he tries to continue his work despite the feeling of your fleshy walls around him almost made him want to fuck your brains out on his desk right then and there.
“You can’t do this.” You snivel into his shoulder, every small movement you made to try and get yourself off effortless against his iron grip on your side.
“Well baby, good girls don’t beg unless told to.” He makes his point by pulling you up ever so slightly and thrusting into you with a force that makes you crackle out a moan. “And even good-er girls do what they’re fuckin’ told, you got that shitty woman?”
“That’s what I like to hear. Now be quiet or you’re gonna’ regret it princess.”
-Kirishima after sex loves to cockwarm you
-He’s just so tired and loves the warm feeling of being inside you and it makes after sex cuddles just more intimate
“Where do you want me to cum sweetheart? Fuck you’re so fucking tight baby girl.” Kirishima croaks out into your ear, riding out the rest of your orgasm as he chased his.
“M’inside of me Eiji.” You practically drool at the feeling of him convulsing inside of you, gripping onto his flattened hair practically setting him off edge at the stimulation.
After catching his breath, Kirishima’s arms wobble around you from keeping himself pried up above you. You can feel the hot spurts of cum dribble from inside of you and as Kirishima is fully finished, he pulls you against him as he lies down with his cock still firmly inside of you.
“Kiri-“ You whine at the feeling of being so full. You don’t know how much you can take after having so many orgasms pulled out of you. Your clit was so overstimulated and your body was shaking from it but Kirishima held you tightly enough for it to simmer down.
“Come on baby just 5 more minutes.” His mumbles were so sleepy, it was probably going to be way more than 5 minutes. “You just feel so nice around me, like you were made for me princess.”
He presses kisses all over your face, making sure not to miss a single inch before you settled snugly into his chest.
“So beautiful.” Kirishima whispers, moving his hips ever so slightly to nestle into you further. “My fucking beautiful girl huh?”
His toothy grin is enough to make you giggle, his hands slide down your sweat covered bodies to grab your ass tightly. The action makes him twitch inside of you slightly and you gasp at the sudden explicitness of his actions.
“You sure you couldn’t go for a round two baby?”
“I… wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
-Sero loves sleepy cockwarming
-he’s too tired in the morning to fuck you but you’re both hot and bothered but neither of you fully want to be athletic so early; this is your compromise
“Whatchu doing sweetness?” Sero blinks a couple times as you palm him through his boxers, a sleepy grin on your face. “What? You want me inside of you baby?”
You nod slowly, the tiredness in your eyes making your blinks last longer but down below you felt like you could melt. All you wanted was for him to be inside of you so badly.
“C’mere then love.” His morning voice is so croaky as you slide up his torso. He flips you so you’re lying next to him, one leg draped over his waist as he shuffles your pyjamas down your legs before following suit with his own boxers. He pushes his fingers against your folds, gathering slick before teasing against your entrance which makes you buck your hips into his palm.
“So needy aren’t we?” Sero smirks to then press a kiss onto your forehead. He rests his hands to your lower back as he pulls your hips closer to his before slowly sliding himself into you before completely bottoming out “Shit- you’re so warm.”
You happily hum at the feeling of him inside you, the pressure making you roll your hips slightly against him which allowed his cock to move into you more comfortably; in turn hitting your g-spot nicely.
The two of you spent a few more moments lazily grinding against one another before the two of you lost interest in getting each other off and more about you both being so close and whole with one another.
“D’ya want me to pull out of you pretty girl?” Sero slightly cleared his throat to get rid of it’s morning rasp, just as he began to pull away you placed your hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving any further. You curled closer into his chest, letting his arms wrap around you to nestle in together.
“Leave it.” You mumble against his bare chest, barely enough for him to hear you but he easily picked it up due to the proximity of you both. “S’Keepin us warm.”
“Okay pretty girl.” Sero plants a kiss to your hair line, feigning back a yawn. “I’ll keep you warm.”
-DABI ooft that man will use it as a punishment baby
-this is one of his more tame punishments because he can get sadistic, it just depends on how mouthy you’ve been with him that day
“You little slut.” Dabi hisses through his teeth, a warm spank against your ass acting as the punctuation of his words. You’d forgotten how many you’d received but you couldn’t say it wasn’t making you feel so fucking turned on.
“You think you deserve my cock huh?” Another slap to your other ass cheek. “Tell me doll, do you think you fucking deserve it?”
“Yes sir- please I’ll be good.” You whinge, head too dizzy to keep it up after being laid over his lap for god knows how long. You had no effort anymore to keep up the bratty act, all you wanted to do was cum.
“There’s my good whore.” He chuckles, helping you sit up before lying you back down on your shared bed. Hissing when your ass touches the sheets from the sheer amount of beating it had just received. You were just glad to finally get off his lap.
Dabi slid his jeans off, before laying down next to you. Pumping his cock a few times before encouraging you to get on top of him. He smirks at your tired expression as you begin to straddle him sliding down onto his shaft slowly.
You begin to use your bruised thighs to lift yourself up but Dabi ultimately pushes you back down, his other hand reaching for his phone. You look at him with confusion as you try to wiggle around him for any sort of stimulation. You felt like you were on fire with how much you wanted him to just fuck your brains out.
“Nuh uh doll. You’re getting this cock just like you wanted.” He lets out a low laugh, watching as the realisation sets in on your face. “Shame that bratty fucking mouth of yours had to ruin it. How’ds’it feel to be so full of my cock hm?”
You swore you could have screamed as you lay against his chest, one arm behind his head as the other scrolled mindlessly on his device, not even touching you.
“Please sir- I’ll be so good for you, just touch me a little.” With no warning Dabi slams back up into your hips and you let out a lewd moan at the friction inside of you.
“Each time you fucking squirm or complain I’m gonna make it longer. Now shut that whore mouth of yours up or you will regret it.”
-Hawks lives for cockwarming… why?
-because this mans breeding kink is off the scale!!!
-loves cockwarming literally after every time you have sex when you’re trying for kids he fucking loves the feeling of just being left inside of you.
“Fuck baby bird you feel so fucking good around my cock.” Hawks’ shuddering moans mixed with your own filled the room with explicit ecstasy. “M’gonna fill you up with so much cum baby, you want that huh? Want me to fill you up with my cum?”
“Yes Hawks fuck- please m’need it so bad.” You weep at the feeling of his balls slapping against you harshly. It only spurred him on to cum so deep inside of you.
“Fuck. This cunt was made for me babe.” Hawks bit his tongue at the feeling of you tightening around him, threatening to reach your high also. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty pussy with my cum you got that?”
You moaned at his lewd words, babbling out ‘yeses’ and anything else that was in any way affirmative to getting you any closer to euphoria, Hawks couldn’t help but chuckle at your state.
“Look at my baby bird.” He pulls out far and plunges deep into you, hitting just the right spot. “I love it when you get so needy you turn dumb baby, fuck you stupid because all you want is my cum, yeah?”
With his filthy words you let out a raspy moan as you came undone around his cock. It only took a few more thrusts before he too climaxed inside of you, fucking his cum right back into your entrance. Pulling you into him with his wings as added leverage he pulled you to lay next to him, cock still firmly thrusted into you.
“Keigo aren’t you going to-“
“Come on baby bird, you know the rules.” He kissed your forehead, using little feathers to pull the hair back from your face ever so gently so he could look into your eyes. “Gonna keep my cock nice and warm inside of you to fuck my cum into you huh? Ain’t that right?’
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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.
the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.
wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.
hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.
it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.
iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.
over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.
hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.
he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.
god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.
“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...
oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.
hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”
the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”
“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.
they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.
hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”
toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”
he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”
iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.
“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”
all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.
a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.
“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.
they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—
“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”
the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.
“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.
iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.
hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”
and then he was gone.
toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.
apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.
you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.
“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”
toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.
“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.
inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.
you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.
“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.
he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.
later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.
i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.
i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.
you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.
uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.
sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.
he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.
anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.
take care of yourself,
℗ poker face
so... this is it
an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
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SUMMARY: You came, saw and conquered... dat ass!
PAIRING: Henry Cavill x reader (2nd person POV), Kal
WARNINGS: RPF, fluff, butts, butt touching, butt slapping, butt biting, silly fluff, implied smut, implied punishment, implied dom/sub relationship but just slightly so if you want to see it it’s there otherwise it’s not, guess that’s all. Oh and my first time really writing RPF so there’s that...
A/N: neither beta’d or proofread. Typos, were going down swingin’! Thank you @thelastsock for the prompt, I’ve had a lot of fun writing this!💖💖💖 Yeah... my first time really writing RPF.
WORD COUNT: ca 950
TITLE: Dat Ass!
Writers live off validation. If you liked it, commented and reblog 💕 thank you 💖
“Honey, I’m home!” you call out once you shut the door behind you. Toeing off your shoes, you don’t get the desired answer. You get an answer though, or… kind of an answer. Instead of a human voice, you hear two pairs of paws click-clacking their way towards you. Fast.
“Aww, hello my big bear!” you coo, smushing the large Akita’s face in your hands, “Where did you leave daddy, hm?” But instead of answering you, Kal sniffs all your pockets on the search for treats.
“As if we don’t feed you enough,” you mutter smiling as you step further into your home on the look of your other bear.
You frown when you don’t find him in the kitchen, nor the living room. When you left, he was hunched over a script on the couch. Where could he be? All his shoes were at the door, he didn’t go out. And Kal’s still here, so where the hell was he?
“Honey? Where are you?” you call again, “Hen-”
You have to stifle a giggle when you peek into your bedroom through the door he seemingly left ajar. The only way to describe the position your fiancé is in right now is ‘fifteen year old girl telling her diary about her crush’. With the script on the pillow in front of him and a marker in hand, he’s lying on his belly, knees bent, feet hooked together and swaying back and forth. As if that wasn’t enough to make you want to surprise him - just to see if he’d also scream like a teenage girl if you startled him - apparently he had taken a quick shower while you were gone. His damp curls were a mess on his head, begging you to be tugged and messed up even further. And his glorious Buns of Steel were jutting out, highlighted even by white boxer briefs.
Mister chose to wear underwear for once, so so.
To your luck he’s so immersed in his script that he doesn’t hear your quiet snort. Neither does Henry seem to hear you pushing the door open further. Holding your breath, you wait for any kind of reaction from him before you begin your sneak attack.
When his feet are farthest back, you pounce, jumping onto the bed and straddling the back of his thighs.
“Hi, baby.” He sounds unimpressed.
“Hey,” you giggle, leaning forward and pecking his shoulder, “was I that obvious?”
“You weren’t. The way Kal jumped up was though,” he chuckles, “now can you get off my back, please? I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”
“Nuh-uh.” You even lie down on top of him, nuzzling his back. “You’re so warm.”
You’re lifted up with the deep breath he takes, before he says, “fine.”
You grin in victory. But if he thought you’d just lie there and let him work, he was dead wrong. Well, for now he was right but in just a few minutes…
“What body wash did you use? You smell good,” you mumble, nuzzling his back further downward.
“Ran out of my old one, so I tried the new one you got me. Now shh.”
‘Now shh’ my ass! you think to yourself, scooting further down his back. Only when your lips skim the inward curve of his spine, he perks up.
“And what’s that gonna be once it’s finished?” he asks, throwing you a sharp look over his shoulder, “I’m trying to work here, babe.”
“You’ve been hunched over that damn thing all day!” you protest, “Pay attention to me!”
To emphasise your words, you tap his butt, and watch as it bounces. With a snort, you repeat your action, making Britain’s Ass jiggle beneath your palms.
“Baby!” he warns you, but ends up laughing.
“Now I know why you like doing this!” you giggle, “this is so much fun!”
“I’m gonna do so much more than just light tapping if you don’t stop now. Baby, I’m serious.”
If he was, he would have used your name, not your nickname.
“But I like your butt! Okay, okay, kisses to make up?”
He tries so hard to sound annoyed when he grunts and slams the script shut. He’s about to turn, too, then you scoot even further down his thighs and tug at the hem of his boxers.
“I’m not even gonna ask what you’re up to now,” Henry sighs. But being an actor, this was all pretend. If he didn’t want this, he’d tell you. Or he’d simply get up. Truth is, he loves how much you love his butt.
“That’s probably for the better,” you laugh, then concentrate on the task ahead: playing these glorious bongos. But looking at the way the relaxed muscles bounce, you have another bright idea. It’s almost an untamable urge.
Leaning down, you do what he does to your butt nearly all of the time. Skimming your teeth on the skin of his peach, you bite down lightly. Then a little harder. Not enough to hurt or even leave more than just a few indents that would be gone within minutes, but hard enough to make him jump.
“What the?!” Henry exclaims and you take this as your sign… to dart out of the bedroom.
Too slow. He catches you by the ankle and drags you back on the mattress. Damn, he’s fast! You shriek and giggle when he yanks you and flips you over, so you’re on your back underneath him. He pins your wrists next to each side of your head. He stares down at you, eyes boring into your soul until you stop writhing. It takes a few seconds for him to enter the character, but when he does, his voice is controlled and cold.
“Now, what am I to do with you?”
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Hello, can i pls request Karl eating the reader on the kitchen counter? Maybe use this prompt "Are you wearing my shirt"
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
Title: Kitchen Counter
Warning(s): cursing, NSFW, degrading, praising, teasing, bit of biting, bl00d mention, orgasm denial, tell me if I should add any more warnings.
Pronouns: they/them, afab
Synopsis: Karl eats the reader out on the kitchen counter.
Pairing: c!Karl X Switch/sub! Reader
Word count: 1.2k
- Reader is mainly sub in this but there are some times when they try to dom.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
You threw yourself out of bed and waddled to the cupboard, opening the door and scanning for any ol’ shirt to slip on. You didn’t care what clothes you put on since it’s not like you were going anywhere.
Your eyes were blurry and you were still half asleep when you put the grey shirt on, walking down the stairs without any pants and making your way down to the living room.
You heard the soft ringing of the kettle and rubbed at your eyes, smiling gently at the voice of your loved one “took you long enough to wake up!” Karl called out as he heard you stumble into the kitchen where he was boiling water.
“Good mornin’” you yawned and leaned on the bench, Karl smiled softly and looked over at you. His smile faltered for a quick second before restoring itself “oh uh- are you wearing my shirt?” The tips of Karl’s ears turned red and his cheeks grew pinker.
You glanced down at the grey shirt you were wearing, you didn’t even notice it hadn’t belonged to you! You looked back up at Karl “oh sorry, I can go change it now if it bothers you!” You spoke and just as you were about to leave, Karl grabbed you.
His hand grasped onto your arm and pulled you back to his chest, you gasped softly and quickly regained your balance “No. Leave it.” Karl muttered in your ear. You felt his hands drop to grip onto your hips, you smiled to yourself before gently removing his hands off of you.
“You’ve gotta keep an eye on the kettle, don’t want it to overflow and burn you..” you teased him as you sat on the kitchen counter and waited for him to finish what he was originally doing “why don’t you keep quiet instead of telling me what I’m supposed to be doing? I’m in charge here, not you” Karl pointed out.
“Why not? Why can’t I be in charge? I mean- I’m more powerful than you anyways” you shrugged “you can barely last one second riding me!” Karl exclaimed “and you can barely focus on one task at a time, keep an eye on that kettle” you crossed your leg over the other.
“I’ll show you who’s boss alright! After I’m done with this-“ he seemed flustered by your words, clearly he was getting pent up by your behaviour. Karl continued to watch the kettle boil, his finger tapping the counter gently as he waited patiently.
“You gonna make yourself a drink? Make me one too” you gave a sweet smile “make it yourself- or are you not capable of doing things for yourself?” Karl crossed his arms “oh, are you salty that I’m trying to dominate you?” You smirked “No- I’m not salty!” He put his hands on his hips now.
“Shut up!” Karl grumbled at you, you pouted before getting a bratty idea “Make. Me.” You exaggerated your voice to get into his head. Karl turned around and pinned your hips to the kitchen counter, his mouth latching onto the skin on your neck and starting to suck.
You let out a loud gasp, not expecting him to have let go so quickly “Y-You listen so well to instructions!” You tried to regain your hold of the situation but you knew that Karl already had you in his grasp.
Karl bit down on your neck, grazing it so that it’d show off his teeth marks. Karl smiled in delight as he admired his artwork “slide your underwear off, now” Karl demanded. You once again denied his request and told him that he’d have to do it himself. So he did.
Karl tore off the fabric, throwing it to the ground. Your eyes widened as you suddenly realised how much power he had in this very moment. Karl grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up “hold this with your mouth” he said.
You bit down on the shirt and let out a muffled moan when you felt the cold air hit your sensitive nipples. Karl stood there and stared at your body for a good couple seconds “you know.. I could just leave you like this, leave you craving me..” Karl thought out loud.
You wanted to say something in rebuttal but remembered your mouth was occupied by your shirt. Karl dropped to his knees suddenly and quickly parted your legs, head moving to rest on your soft fleshy thighs. It was as soft and cushiony as a pillow!
You looked down at the brunette boy and whimpered softly, you hated to act so submissive like this but you couldn’t help it. You bucked your hips up to try and get him to touch you where you needed him the most but he only laughed at your pathetic attempts.
He kissed the inside of your thigh gently “you know- your a whole lot better when you keep you’re not talking.. maybe I should silence you more often” Karl chuckled. You furrowed your eyebrows and made a disgruntled noise “if I stuffed your mouth with my cock then you wouldn’t complain, would you? Dirty thing..”
You whined as you felt Karl take a big bite of your thigh, teeth marks digging in deeply. Blood started to trickle down your thigh but Karl was quick to lap it up, the red liquid coating his tongue. You made a concerning whining noise which made Karl look up at you “are you okay?” You nodded in response “was that too much?” You shook your head.
Karl felt slightly guilty for making you bleed although he really enjoyed doing it and he was sure you did too as well but still. So Karl decided to stop teasing you, his hands moving to spread apart your flaps.
Your pussy clenched at the thought of him touching you “you’re so wet already, that’s quite impressive, darling..” his words felt condescending and patronising. Karl’s tongue flicked at your clit, his mouth sucking on the small bean very gently almost as if to tease you.
You moaned and rocked your hips slowly, hoping Karl wouldn’t notice. He noticed. Karl held your hips with his hands and forced you to stay glued to his face, his tongue slowly prodding at your entrance.
His tongue slid inside, the pink muscle exploring your fleshy walls. You bit down hard on the fabric inside your mouth and tried not to make any loud noises but it was really hard with how good Karl was making you feel.
You were getting so close, your legs were shaking and your hips were going numb from how hard they were being squeezed. You were feeling so good and you were about to cum but then Karl pulled away, turning his back to you and getting up to return to what he was doing.
“H-Huh??” You questioned and got off the counter “I need to keep an eye out on the kettle, remember?” He teased you “oh fuck you!” You whined “maybe later, darling” Karl grinned and blew you a kiss as he kept watching the kettle.
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claire!! my love!!
i was just wondering if you could write me something for din using the prompts
“H-how long have you been standing there?” &
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”
maybe you could also throw in a lil bit of din the dilf’s breeding kink??
(could you uh make it extra smutty and make my ovaries explode??)
thank you!! i love you!!!!
OMG Jo, seriously, you’re KILLING me over here. This was sooooo filthy and fun to write LOL. I hope you like it!! 😘
Word count: 5860+
Outline: “Mando”/Din x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ ONLY; Din eavesdropping; female masturbation; Din physically crowding you up against a wall; a sprinkling of angst; blackout room conditions so Din can remove the helmet; breeding kink; unprotected P/V sex; Din has a filthy mind and a filthy praise-kink mouth to match; BREEDING KINK out the wazoo; a little bit of sexy anticipation, then a little bit of romance, and then just pure SMUT
You opened the door to the hallway after your shower and let the cool air wash over you as you got dressed. You knew Mando was up in the cockpit fiddling with something that was going to take a while, and the small bathroom was entirely too steamy for your liking. The vent fan never seemed to keep up with the hot water you luxuriated in after a mission like this.
You and Mando had been on a desert planet for three days, braving periodic dust storms to find the bounty, and the endless waves of dirt had seeped into your mouth and nose. It had even seemed to settle into your joints, making them ache. You finished toweling off and stepped into your underwear.
“Dammit!” Your foot caught on the waistband but you recovered your balance quickly. You started to wonder what would happen if Mando walked in on you, caught you naked. Would he even notice? He didn’t treat you like a woman while you were hunting or fighting together. If he saw you naked it would probably be nothing. He would probably treat you like you had simply taken off a cape or a glove.
But during the nine months you had spent with him, working alongside him, talking to him in the little short conversations he actually held with you, you had fallen in… maybe not love, but something like it. Lust maybe, or yearning, or something equally desperate. You didn’t want to call it love when you didn’t even know his name.
Thoughts of Mando were starting to fill your every waking moment. You fantasized constantly about ripping off his armor and his cape, licking every inch of the expanse of skin underneath, seeing his face and making genuine eye contact. You touched yourself so often in your bunk before sleep that you had forgotten to be quiet a few times. But his stoic posturing and lack of any indication to you that he saw you, or that he recognized that you were a woman at all only drove your infatuation. It was hell.
“Man probably doesn’t have a single atom of sexuality in his body.” You muttered to yourself as you looked in the mirror and applied cream to your desert-dry skin. “I could probably lay naked across his lap and he wouldn’t even notice. Fucking sexy goddamn idiot, walking around like he’s swinging the galaxy’s biggest dick. Fuck me.”
You propped one foot up on the edge of the sink and started to apply cream to your leg. “Fucking sexy moron. Probably doesn’t even notice I have boobs. Might as well be a fucking frog lady for all he notices.”
You began to wonder if talking to yourself was a sign of some kind of hyperdrive-induced madness. Not that it mattered. Your only conversation partner was so closed off, so short with his answers that you might as well talk to yourself. You shrugged and switched to your other leg.
“Maybe I should jump him, make him notice me for once. Ha, like that would do anything. He’d probably freeze me in carbonite so that he doesn’t have to hear me talking so much.” You put your foot down and slathered cream on your arms and shoulders, following your weird train of thought.
“... or maybe he’s into that. Real weird shit, like freezing women in carbonite and jerking off on them?” You held that mental image in your brain for a half-second too long and then shuddered.
“Ew. Gross. Or maybe he’s just into normal kinky shit and hasn’t been around a woman in so long he’s forgotten how it works.”
You grabbed your toothbrush and started to clean your teeth. You spit out a mouthful of foam and then pointed the toothbrush at your reflection while you continued.
“Maybe you’re it, sweetheart.” You winked and smiled at yourself. “Maybe you’re just the woman he needs to remind him what love is. Ha! Love…”
You smirked at yourself and continued brushing. You spit out the final mouthful of foam and leaned close to the mirror, looking at your eyeballs and gums up close, inspecting yourself for signs of ill health. You lowered your voice in a parody of a sexy accent.
“Or maybe you’re just the woman he needs to remind him how luxurious a warm pussy and a pair of boobs feel in the dark when you’re out in the cold reaches of space.”
You nodded once at your reflection, as if a vital consensus with mirror-you had been reached. You stepped into your sleeping pants and slippers and pulled your shirt on over your head. You grabbed your toiletries bag and stepped out the door, taking a left toward your bunk.
You ran into a wall of Beskar. Oh fuck.
Mando was standing with his shoulder propped against the wall between the ‘fresher and your bunk. The ladder to the cockpit was about six steps behind you, which meant that he hadn’t just come down the ladder, because you would have seen him in the mirror while you were talking to yourself, which meant… Oh FUCK.
“H-how long have you been standing there?” Your voice was high and squeaky.
Mando didn’t respond, just tilted his helmet an inch to the side, like he was studying you. You felt your stomach flip over and something warm and wet rushed to your crotch. You hoped you hadn’t just peed yourself a little from fear.
You were about to open your big mouth and make some excuses about dust madness or sleep deprivation when you heard him sigh… or you thought you did anyway. It was hard to discern that soft of a sound through his modulator while your heart was pounding in your ears.
“Long enough,” was all he said, and then he walked past you and climbed the ladder to the cockpit.
You stood, rooted to the spot for ages, until you shook your head clear and went to your bunk. Maybe that hadn’t happened at all. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you should get some sleep.
You tossed and turned for ages, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where Mando could have crossed the hall without you seeing him in the mirror, and trying to recall exactly what you had said and when. Either he had crossed the hall outside the ‘fresher door in the half second when you had pulled your shirt over your head, or he had been there since you got out of the shower and opened the door. If he had been there since you opened the door, that meant that he had heard everything, every crazy thought that you had voiced. But if he had somehow only crossed the hall while you were pulling on your shirt, then why would he have said ‘Long enough’?
Your panicked calculations ran over and over in your head, doing nothing to calm your distress. The more you thought about Mando, the more you wanted him. Okay, so what if he overheard everything? Did that change anything? No. Apparently he had decided to just… not react to it. He had swept past you and made for the ladder, and in that moment where he shared your space you had caught a whiff of his scent, that mix of cold metal and scruffy wool, the musk of something salty and warm that lay just underneath, which must be just him.
As you thought about that moment in the hall, your fingers moved almost automatically to the waistband of your sleeping pants, and you savored the coolness of your fingers when they met the warm mound of flesh just under your navel. You stroked yourself there, moving lower with each graze of your fingertips until you felt the first whisper of the coarse curls that dusted your pubic mound. You brushed your fingers along, moving lower and lower until they reached the valley between your outer lips, the crevice that you opened with a single sweep of your finger, where warmth and wetness lay buried.
You propped your legs open and found your clit, the little bud that made you gasp when you touched it and made you want to cry Mando’s name loud enough to echo through the whole ship. You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans while you rubbed harsh circles around your clit, dipping your fingers occasionally into the pool of slick that was growing by the minute. You dragged the wetness back up to your nub of nerves and kept going, harder, faster, almost punishing yourself for daring to even think about Mando that way.
He clearly didn’t want you, and the idea that you might end up torturing yourself like this for months or years longer produced an ache, a soul-deep longing to just stay close to him no matter what the circumstances, so that you could keep getting the little glimpses of him that fed your obsession. Once he had reached for a lever in the cockpit and you had caught a flash of skin at his wrist, a centimeter of flesh that fueled your bedtime fantasies for weeks.
And then just now in the hall, that rush of air in his wake as he passed you, the smells of him that combined to make him: his scent, his aura, his presence. That salt-metal-musk of him, and a hint of soap, the buttery-woodsy scent that perfumed the steamy bathroom after he had showered. You had gone in once right after he left the ‘fresher before the vents had cleared it, and the smell of his soap, so masculine and clean, had made your cunt clench. After that you seemed to find excuses almost every time to use the ‘fresher immediately after he had showered and vacated it.
You felt like a creep but you liked smelling his soap, liked the way the steam warmed your face and made it prickle as you sat and inhaled a part of him that was there but couldn’t be seen. It was almost a religious experience like that, ephemeral and intangible, with the undercurrent of shame and fear of being caught. What kind of weirdo sits and smells someone else’s shower steam and gets turned on?
The memory of all the times you had touched yourself like this before, in your bunk and in your shower and in the steamy bathroom inhaling the clouds of Mando’s soap-scent all crashed down on you at once, and a cry ripped from your throat.
You bit it off halfway and it ended with an “-mmmh!” You hadn’t heard any sounds from beyond your door, so you weren’t worried that Mando had heard you. He was probably still up in the cockpit, fiddling endlessly with knobs and buttons, trying to extract the best fuel efficiency possible. You rubbed yourself more gently until your climax shuddered to a stop, and then it was over.
You wrapped yourself up in your blankets and slept like a rock.
The next morning you woke up tense and nervous about seeing Mando. Despite being sure that he had decided to ignore what he had heard, you were still anxious about facing him. You got dressed and stuck your head out your door, not seeing him out in the hallway. Your shoulders relaxed a bit. You decided to try to just go up to the cockpit like normal. If he was going to ignore it, you could do the same… or at least you could try.
You closed your door behind you just in time for his heavy footsteps to descend the ladder from the cockpit. Fuck.
“Morning,” you mumbled. He hit the ground and turned to you, not moving a muscle. Oh stars, here we go, you thought to yourself.
He nodded his helmet at you once in greeting. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, yes. Yes I did, thank you… You?” You made awkward, polite conversation back, even though you were half convinced he didn’t ever sleep at all. Just one more mystery of the Mandalorian you were probably never going to solve. But at least he didn’t seem like he was interested in talking about anything he may have overheard, or that he was offended enough to kick you off the ship, so that was a relief.
“Yes.” He held his visor trained on you from just a few feet away. You found yourself fixing your gaze on his neck, not bold enough to look him directly in the region of his eyes like you normally did.
You waited for him to say more. When he didn’t you found yourself nervously trying to fill the silence.
“Um, what’s on today’s schedule? We still traveling or did you want to stop anywhere? I mean, I’m fine with either option, I don’t need to stop. But if you wanted to-”
You were almost grateful for the way he interrupted you.
“If you still want me to repair the-”
You were starting to feel a little bit of panic. The topics of traveling and ship repairs were pretty much all you had to rely on without resorting to an awkward silence... or worse, broaching the subject of last night. You vowed not to ever talk about that if you could help it.
You nodded once and then fixed your gaze on the toes of your boots. You put your hands behind your hips and leaned back against the closed door of your bunk in a parody of a relaxed posture. You folded your lips in between your teeth and bit down, forcing yourself to look back up at his visor. If this silence lasted any longer, you were going to break and start chattering nonsense just to fill the void.
Mando took a step toward you and you involuntarily flinched. He paused, and you were filled with regret. Had you scared him off? Had you made things that terrible and awkward? Was he going to kick you off the ship?
You forced yourself to breathe evenly, in and out through your nose. In the quiet it sounded like you were taking big shuddering gasps of air. Fuck, I can’t even breathe like a normal person.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Mando’s voice was low, and you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly.
You stuttered, “Wh- What? What do you mean?”
“Did you,” he took another step closer, “...enjoy yourself last night?”
Oh fuck, so he was going to talk about your embarrassing bathroom monologue after all. Fuck fuck fuck.
“No, I-” You forced yourself to at least maintain eye contact with his visor as you stumbled over your words. “I don’t enjoy that kind of thing. I mean, I don’t do it for fun, I was just, ummm... bored and I- It’s not fun for me or anything. I mean, I don’t- I don’t always- Look, I know it was rude and I’m sorry.”
“So,” he moved closer, nearly towering over you where you leaned against the wall, “...you didn’t enjoy that... last night?”
You gulped and stuttered more nonsense. “No, I- I mean, I was just trying to fill some time and I thought I was going a little, you know, nuts after that last mission. I’m sorry if you overheard me. I mean- I just- I-”
“Because it sounded to me like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Ummm… no- no, sir,” Oh fuck, did I just call him sir? What the fuck is wrong with me?
You tried again, “I’m sorry if you overheard me. I was- It was rude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Mando propped one arm against the wall near your head, boxing you in. You wouldn’t be able to untangle your own arms from behind you without pushing your body against his.
He inclined his visor lower and purred, “What you said?”
“Yes, in the ‘fresher, I’m sorry you overheard me with the door open, talking to myself about you. I’m- I won’t do it again.”
He tilted his visor just an inch lower, and you got the distinct impression he was enjoying this, enjoying watching you squirm.
“I wasn’t talking about the ‘fresher.”
Your heart stopped for what felt like a full second, and then picked back up at double speed.
“What?” Your voice was a mere squeak, barely a whistle of air forming one word.
“I wasn't talking about the ‘fresher.” Mando’s voice was low, as dangerous as you had ever heard him.
Your eyes were glued to the curved black of his visor, and you couldn’t form coherent thoughts or any words besides stuttering out another weak, “W- what?”
Mando brought his free hand up to your face. His fingers were curled just under your chin, the pad of one huge thumb pressed flat under your lower lip.
“I was talking about you touching yourself in your bunk where you think I can’t hear every moan that you make. Where you think I can’t hear you fucking your own fingers practically every night, for months.” He was holding your chin in place with his gloved fingers. Under any other circumstances you would have been drooling with lust from both your mouth and your pussy. But this was torture.
You let a small sigh out, and it felt like all of your last bit of life force went with it. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were going to faint. You managed to shudder a great heaving breath in and stay upright. You had survived worse, you could manage to get through this little embarrassment, and then you could make your break from the ship, leave the Mandalorian, and go to whichever corner of the galaxy he wasn’t going to be in. You tried to remind yourself that nobody ever died from a little embarrassment.
“I- I…” You tried to form some kind of rational thought, and then you seized on a little spark of anger. You jerked your chin sideways to get it loose from his fingers, and then you scowled up at his visor. You tried to get very angry at the idea of him listening in, when that was actually all you had wanted for months.
“That was private, Mando. Are you saying that I should be embarrassed about a biological function of the human body? Masturbation is normal.”
He practically whispered, and you had to strain to hear him over your own pounding heart.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t normal, sweetheart. I asked if you had enjoyed yourself, because it sounded to me like you did. Contrary to popular belief, I have noticed that you’re a woman, and I do have at least one atom of sexuality in my body. I’ve touched myself at night, too, thinking about you.”
Oh stars, if embarrassment couldn’t kill you, the sudden jump in arousal might. You felt your stomach flip and your pussy clenched hard around nothing. The fresh clean underwear you had put on this morning was drenched.
You couldn’t speak, but Mando seemed to be fine continuing his train of thought. “And if you wanted any help in that department, I know a certain ‘sexy moron’ who might be able to assist.”
“Oh fuck.” Your voice was back to a squeak.
“That’s not an answer.” He tilted his visor just a degree to the right. “Do you want my help with that?”
You closed your eyes and nodded vigorously, nearly headbutting his helmet. “Yeah, yes. Yes please. Yes.”
“Good.” Mando stood back from the wall and put his hands on his hips. Now that he wasn’t crowding you, you felt like you could breathe again.
He held one gloved hand out to you. “We have at least a few hours with the ship on autopilot. Your bunk or mine?”
“Yours.” You pushed yourself off the wall and nearly fell. Your legs had gone numb. Mando caught you around your waist and looked down at you.
“Ground rules first. One, you can’t see my face. We have to leave all of the lights off.”
You nodded up at him. “Yeah, okay. I’m okay with that.”
“Good. Two, you have to stop creeping into the ‘fresher after every shower I take. That’s weird, cyar'ika.”
Your eyes fluttered closed and you laughed. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
“Three, you can call me Din. It’s my name. But you only use it when we’re alone, got it? Everywhere else we go, I’m still ‘Mando’ to you.”
You looked back up at his visor with your best, most honest face. “Yeah, I can do that… Din. That’s nice.”
Mando released you and held your hand as you walked the three steps over to his bunk’s door. He opened it and motioned for you to get inside. You kicked off your boots and crawled up on the bed. Mando closed the door and started to remove his armor and his layers of underclothes. You took the hint and started to undress yourself.
You lay naked on the bed, taking in the sight of him as he disrobed in the dim light. It was odd that he could get entirely naked and let you see his cock, his broad shoulders, thick and solid muscles from fighting, scars and all… but not his face.
As if he could read your thoughts, he turned to you and said, “I can’t let you see my face unless we’re married, unless you’re my riduur, my wife.”
You blinked at that, the thought of being lucky enough to become his wife was dizzying, potent and attractive.
You had a sudden thought and sat up, dangling your legs off the side of the bed. “Are we- are we ruining that? If we do this can I still be- I mean, we’re not supposed to wait until after marriage, right?”
“I’ve been on your ship for months, Mand- I mean, Din.” You shook your head to clear it.
“I’ve been lusting after you since the first time you said my name. I’ve been half distracted by thoughts of you every day since I got here…” You trailed off, unsure of how to say what you were trying to say without just coming right out and saying it.
Din moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you saying you want to do more than just fuck?”
“Well… yeah. I mean, if I just wanted a fuck I could’ve gone to any brothel right near the landing pads, at any of the places we’ve stopped.” You looked down at your lap, somehow more embarrassed by the admission that you hadn’t had sex in months than you had been by all of the conversation up to now.
Mando slipped one of his broad hands into yours, intertwining his fingers. The warmth and the new, strange sight of his calloused hand holding yours so gently gave you the courage to finish voicing your thoughts.
“But I… I didn’t want that. I don’t want just a fuck…” You looked back up at his visor and took a steadying breath in. “I want you, Din. I love you.”
Din let a long breath out, “Cyar'ika, I- I’m happy to hear you say that, but I don’t want you to get into anything with me that you might regret.”
Your voice was quiet. “Does that mean you don’t love me?”
He turned you to face him, broad hands holding your shoulders. “No, that’s not what it means. I- I’ve felt the same way about you since you got here. But I had to hide it because this is a hard life that I’ve chosen.”
“I know that, Din-”
He cut you off. “No. This is it. We may not be able to settle down or stay in one place. I can’t guarantee that there will be any luxury or softness in your life. It means that I love you so much that I want you to be absolutely sure of what you’re choosing, if you choose me.”
You blinked up at him. Did he really not see?
“Din, I’ve fought alongside you for months. I thought that I had proved myself capable, but if you think I’m weak or I can’t handle it-”
“Mesh’la, I know you can handle it, I know you can fight and that you’re strong. But it has to be your choice.” He took both of your hands in his. “You can’t choose this on a whim. You have to choose with your eyes open.”
He brought his hand back up to grip your chin again, thumb planted firmly to tilt your face up to his. You saw yourself reflected in his visor, and you realized instantly that your face looked just as determined as you felt inside. You brought both hands up to wrap them around his shoulders, stroking the skin on the back of his neck. He dropped his hand from your face and wrapped both arms around your waist.
“My eyes are open, Din, and I choose you. If you need more time, if you don’t want to decide right now, I’ll wait for you. I’ll stay and fight alongside you and prove my love to you a thousand times if that’s what it takes. But I choose you, and everything that goes along with that choice.”
Din bent his head to yours and touched the front of his helmet to your forehead. The gesture was strangely somehow more intimate than the fact that you were sitting naked next to one another on his bunk. You sighed and closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him under your fingertips, the contrast of the cool metal against your forehead, the warmth of his soft skin where it pressed against yours.
“I want you to have my warriors, mesh’la. Do you want that? Do you want me to father your children?”
Your arousal surged back suddenly. YES, your entire body screamed at you. You inclined your head back and leaned your face up to kiss the top of his visor.
“I’d love nothing better, Din. If you want me, I’m yours. I’ll bear twenty warriors if you want me to.”
“Mesh’la, I-” He stopped. “Not here. I can’t marry you here. You deserve to do it on some beautiful green planet, to wear flowers in your hair and say your vows with me in the sunlight.”
“Okay, Din. Whatever you say. I don’t care where we make our vows.” You stroked your hands down his broad shoulders and gripped his biceps. “I’ll do it here, I’ll do it on the farthest-flung planet if you say so. I’ll do whatever you say, whatever it takes to call myself your wife.”
He leaned his helmet to your head again, and whispered, “Cyar'ika, my beautiful girl. My girl… close your eyes.”
You sat back on the bed and closed your eyes. Din got up and you heard the soft hiss of his helmet coming off, then a thud as he laid it carefully on the floor. Then there was a soft click as he turned the lights off before he joined you on the bed. He gently pushed you onto your back, and you felt him recline next to you, your bodies and legs pressed together as he lay on his side facing you.
His voice was strange without the modulator, somehow the same velvety tone, but entirely different altogether. “You can open your eyes, cyar'ika.”
You did, and found that the entire bunk was dark, no seam or seep of light from the hallway around the door. You turned your face to Din and whispered his name, “Kiss me.”
He did, and you melted into it. You realized suddenly that although you had spent so many months fantasizing about what he looked like under his helmet, you actually didn’t care now. You just wanted to feel him and be with him. To be his.
You felt his erection grow hot and hard against your leg, and you whimpered as his tongue probed your mouth. His lips were soft, his kisses languid and deliberate. You were split in two by the desire to take your time like this, and the equally strong throbbing in your clit that urged you to hurry along to the fucking.
You decided to let him go as slow as he wanted. There would be plenty of time for that later, and you suddenly realized just how quickly things had moved to this point. This was your first time kissing the man who would be your husband. The thought of it nearly bowled you over. Last night in front of the mirror you had called him some very bad things while also somehow complimenting him, and then you had touched yourself in desperation like you had almost every night for the last nine months. And now, here you were in his bunk, naked together and engaged to be married. There was no need to rush things.
Din kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, and you gave him the best of yourself in return. You whispered and murmured sweet words to him in between kisses, licked into his mouth with the same vigor that he licked into yours, and stroked his cheek with your fingers.
“Din, I love you so much. I want to be yours forever.” You kissed him deeply and pulled his hand down to rest on your belly. “Please give me children. Please let me carry a part of you inside me. I want you to fill me up with your seed, let it grow inside my womb.”
“Mesh’la,” he nearly whined at that.
He kissed you again more aggressively as he rolled himself on top, bracing himself on his hands above you. You gripped his forearms just below his elbows and got wetter at the feel of the hard muscles under his hot skin. He was strong, you had seen that in action many times, but the corded muscles just under the skin were proof of his presence, the man under the armor.
The realization that you would be the only woman for the rest of his life to feel him this way made you moan.
“Din, take me. Please? Take me now.”
He whispered to you in the dark, “I will, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you and fill you up. Fill you with my semen. You’re going to have my baby.”
You opened your legs wide, feeling the heat ebb from your throbbing cunt. Din shifted against you and you felt his cock press against your seam. He rolled his hips away from you, and in the next moment he was halfway inside, kissing you hard as he moaned into your mouth.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him into yourself, feeling ravenous and greedy, wanting every inch of him inside of you as soon as you could. You reached up to caress his neck and cup the back of his head. You were surprised to find that his hair was soft, and that it curled down to the nape of his neck. You hadn’t given a thought to his hair, other than to note that his pubic hair and body hair was dark when he undressed. You just hadn’t spared a thought to what the hair under his helmet would look like, or if he even had any at all.
You were instantly curious about the color of Din’s eyes, and whether your children would look more like him, or like you. You smiled into his kisses in the dark, savoring that sweet wonderment as your husband-to-be fucked into you, rolling his hips against yours in the dark and joining the two of you forever.
Din started huffing out words that landed somewhere between devotion and depravity, filled with more emotion than you had heard from him in all of the preceding months.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, mesh’la. I’m gonna fill you up and fuck a warrior into you, fill you with my cum and watch you grow round. You’re going to glow with my baby growing inside of you.”
You moaned and spasmed around his cock, chills of electricity running up and down your spine as he growled out more of his filthy praise.
“You’re going to look so beautiful, cyar'ika, so fucking gorgeous after I fill your hot cunt with my seed. You’re going to take it all and let it fill you- fucking fill you up until you’re bursting… my good girl.”
You felt your climax growing, and you pulled your knees up high so that he could thrust even deeper.
“More, Din-” you huffed out the words as best you could. “Tell me more. Fuck me more.”
He began thrusting harder, stuttering out his words with each plunge of his meaty cock into your wet, hot center.
“You’re- fucking- beautiful. Fucking gorgeous.” He kissed you hurriedly, eager to spill more dirty talk into you. “We’re going to take- take our vows tomorrow- take our time after that- fuck you until you’re dripping with my cum. Fuck a warrior into that ripe womb of yours.”
“Oh fuck, Din. I’m gonna come. Keep going.”
“Touch yourself for me, cyar’ika. Touch that beautiful cunt and make her swallow me whole.”
You cried out at that and then reached down to find your clit, to coax yourself over the edge as Din continued to utter his honeyed filth into your soul.
“You’re going to carry- carry my warriors, mesh’la. Grow round with my baby inside you- spill honey from your breasts for my child.” He groaned and you could tell he was close.
“I’m going to fill your hot cunt with my seed, m- make you froth with my cum, cyar’ika. Everyone will know who you belong to.”
He thrust even harder, ramming his cock into a spot deep inside of you that made your eyes water.
“I’ll protect you both, cyar’ika. Shelter and care for you while you grow our baby inside of you. Fill up this fucking hot cunt- this perfect fucking pussy- over and over again. Protect you for the rest of my life.”
“Fuck, Din, I’m coming!” You felt your whole body thrill with the force of your orgasm, your pelvic muscles squeezing him hard as you threw your head back and moaned.
Din groaned and thrust four, five, six more times until he plunged deep and held still, collapsing down on top of you to bury his face in your neck. You felt him spasm as he lay pressed against you, his hot, sticky cum spilling deep inside. You wrapped your legs back around his hips and held him in, murmuring sweet words into his ear as you stroked his hair.
“My love, I’m going to have all of your babies. I want you inside of me always, Din.” You pressed kisses to his ear as you whispered. “I love you so much. I’ll follow you to the farthest star and back, my love, always.”
Din panted as he came down. You felt him soften inside of you, but he didn’t withdraw. He pulled his head up and kissed you softly.
“Mesh’la, I can’t wait to marry you. My wife… my love.”
Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist
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AHHH CAN WE DO A PART 2 OF YOUR EX APPROACHING YOU WHILE THE BOYS ARE AROUND? WITH AKAASHI, KUROO, IWA AND ATSUMU? I LOVED THE FIRST ONE 🥺🤩🤩🤩
Thank you for 2.6k you guys!!!! Here are some possessive volleynerds for you lovelies<33
And thank you sm for the request love I love the diversity in teams- writing in scenarios aha
Warnings: cursing, this is a douchey ex so he does say some pretty shitty things lol
Continuation of This One
S/O With a Douchebag Ex (Akaashi, Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Atsumu)
“Hey! You did so well out there!”
Akaashi offers a glimpse of a smile at your excited figure in the stands as he jogs up the steps to where you are, feeling the tiredness seem to drift away as he takes the seat next to you. You grin when one of his arms loops around your waist to tug you into his side, not minding the slightly sweaty setter as he sighs into your shoulder in content.
“I’m so glad you made it. Now please tell them I’m asleep.”
You sweatdrop when seemingly on cue, Bokuto and Konoha run up the same steps of the bleachers, pointing at Akaashi’s “sleeping” figure in accusation.
“I knew it! I knew he would run off to Y/N the minute we finished-”
“Sh.” You put a finger to your lips as Bokuto pauses, feeling a laugh bubble up in your throat when Akaashi’s lips curl into a smile aginst your shoulder. “He’s tired.”
“Oh boo hoo look at you two all cute and shit.” Konoha snips, settling on the other side of you as you roll your eyes. “Bite me.”
“Don’t be bitter you’re single.” You laugh as the rest of Fukurodani settle in the bleachers around you, humming a little as Akaashi holds you a little tighter in thanks as he uses you to recharge.
“Well isn’t this a fucking sight.”
You tense up immediately at the voice that belongs to the newcomer, your frozen state not going unnoticed by the blue-eyed boy who still had his eyes closed, a frown now growing on his lips.
“Still whoring around, Y/N? All these boys waiting their turn?”
Bokuto and Komi had both begun to stand up, and you cast a sharp glance at both of them that had them both sitting back down with a shared glare in their pupils. You breathe in a shaky sigh before offering a wobbly smile to your ex, not noticing that blue-green eyes had snapped open and Akaashi had lazily looked up at your ex with a lit flame behind his eyes before you could stop him.
“Say it again.” His voice is soft as you sigh. No stopping him now.
Your ex tried to hide his nervousness at Akaashi’s lazy stare that held a deadly feel with a feigned chuckle. “What?”
“I said,” Akaashi stands, towering to his full height that seemed a little more intimidating than usual as he towers over your ex, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer with a head tilt. The mix of tiredness and annoyance was evident on Akaashi’s face as he feels irritation bubble in his stomach at someone openly insulting his girlfriend.
“Say it again. You think I care if we’re in public?”
You gape at his thug-like actions along with the team, and your ex shoves your boyfriend off with a growl before casting you one more glare.
“This isn’t over.”
“I’d say it is.” Akaashi steps in front of your line of vision, jutting his chin to the side in a motion for him to get the hell out of here. “Now kindly leave before I kindly resort to getting physical.”
You feel your heartbeat pick up when your ex spins on his heel cowardly, Akaashi collapsing back in his seat to lay his head back on your shoulder.
“Violence is tiring.”
“Y-Y/N, I’m scared-”
“Who the hell have you been hanging out with ‘Kaashi?!”
You nudge him slightly, smiling gratefully as Akaashi props one eye open, only replying to you and ignoring his teammates inquiries-
“I have him recorded on my phone, so no need to worry anymore. I could ruin him in a second.”
You cast a glance to Konoha, realizing just how frightening Akaashi could be when pissed off for the right reasons.
“..I think I’m scared too.”
“Oh shush.” Akaashi kisses your shoulder, arms resting around your waist as his voice mumbles in your ear, all teasing fading from your voice as a safety net extends across your heart.
“No scum gets to talk about you like that, angel.”
“I have half the mind to just abandon you.”
“Noooo!” You whine, willing your legs to keep walking as Kuroo looks behind him amusedly, hand clasped in yours as the raven-haired captain attempts to tug you along. “Who’s idea was it to walk this big ass park again?”
“Nuh-uh.” You deny with a pout, prompting Kuroo to snort before tugging you to one of the nearby benches, sitting you down sweetly as you pout up at him.
“I swear it’s like I’m your babysitter more than your boyfriend, kitten.”
“That’s called-” You use both hands to make a rainbow shape with a seemingly innocent grin as Kuroo hits you with a deadpan stare. “Pedophilia~”
“Aaaaand that’s it, I’m abandoning you-”
“Wait, I was joking!” You grab his hand when he spins on his heel, thinking he was simply being overdramatic before Kuroo winks once, kissing your knuckle.
“As if I would actually do that. Do you want milktea or iced tea?”
Your pout grows as you retract your hand. “Milktea.”
“Stop pouting, you’re prettier when you smile.”
“And for that reason, I will continue to pout because you told me to stop- ow!”
You glare at your boyfriend’s teasing smirk as he walks off, rubbing the spot on your forehead where he flicked before basking in the feeling of relaxing your legs, deciding to enjoy the rest time while you can.
As your hands massage at your calves, a voice makes your heart drop into your stomach.
The feeling of wanting to disappear spreads over your chest as you slowly meet the eyes of someone you had never wanted to see again, a scoff falling out of his lips at the sight of you.
“Did your newest toy leave you already?” He questions sickeningly sweet as your gaze drops back down to your shoes, bottom lip trembling at just the sound of his voice.
“Did he use you for your body like all the rest did?”
“N-No, not that that’s any of your business anyways.” You mumble, still not meeting his eyes as you wish Kuroo would come back faster, your ex taking another step forward with a smirk holding no good intentions.
“Well, why don’t we go back to the good old days, hm?” He reaches for your wrist, and just as you flinch-
“Oops. My hand slipped.”
Your eyes widen as Kuroo’s iced americano had created a puddle on the floor in which your ex stood, a pissed-off expression in the feral boy’s eyes as he smiles with no kindness behind it, fake-apology slipping off his tongue.
“Sorry about that! Man, I’m suddenly wishing I got it hot.” Kuroo throws the lid over his shoulder, not reacting when your ex turns on him, his grin simply widening when your ex realizes just how broad and tall your new boyfriend was.
“Are we good?” Kuroo continues, taking his other hand out of his pocket with seemingly innocent intentions as his gaze darkens, smile borderline sinister.
“Or do you have business with my girlfriend?” Kuroo makes a point to step in front of you, crossing his arms with a strained grin. “Because in all honesty, you’re getting a little too close for comfort, hm? Or do I need to show you the meaning of too close for comfort?”
The tone of Kuroo’s voice sends a shiver down your spine as you see just how hard Kuroo is clenching his fists, restraining himself but still casting you reassuring glances to calm you down.
“Tsk.” Your ex casts you one more promising death glare before spinning on his heel. “I don’t have time to play with trash anyways.”
Kuroo watches as he walks off, smile gone and replaced with a frown as his eyes seem to gleam with a dark look to them, softening a little when you reach out to tug on his sleeve.
“Kitten, did he do anything to you, because I can go after him. I’ve never once feared prison-”
“Tetsurou.” You whisper, lifting your head to meet his worried gaze through watery eyes as you wish you could respond to his joke the way he would want you to. “Can you maybe just...hold me?”
“I’ll do you one better. You can ride on my back while we go back to the coffee shop to go buy my coffee that I uh, dropped. Deal?”
“Deal.” you interlock pinkies with him as he hoists you on his back, Kuroo pretending not to notice your weakness as you bury your head in his neck and cry as he walks along. He turns his head a little, smiling softly when your tears wet his shoulder.
“Oi, just so you know- I would never abandon you. So don’t worry your pretty little head over nothing, kitten.”
“Hajime, please don’t get the candy- just get popcorn and the drinks.”
“What?” Iwa blinks as if you had just offended him, handing you the two tickets as he arches a confused brow. “But you always get candy.”
“I’m dieting!” You proclaim proudly, and Iwaizumi stares at you for a solid six seconds before turning around.
“Anyways, do you want chocolate or the gummies?”
“Did you not hear-”
“Oh I heard. But there’s no need to diet when you’re already...”
“Already?” You grin cheekily as you see the tips of his ears turn red.
“You’re getting chocolate.”
“Hajime-” You sigh as he rushes away from you towards the counter, leaving you to examine the ticket stubs with a bouncing in your chest. Iwaizumi wasn’t the most open about his feelings towards you, but it was clear that he definitely cared- and that’s all that really mattered.
You really thought nothing would ruin this night.
“Look what we have here! How’ve you been, Y/N?”
You still when an arm gets thrown over your shoulder, feeling your breathing hitch at the sight of someone you hadn’t seen in months. Automatically, you go to step away only for a hug to be forced on you, and you feel your eyes brim with unshed tears as your world seems to stop for a second.
“You missed me, didn’t you? Why’d you leave me, Y/N? Fate must be telling us-”
You squeak when your the back of your shirt is pulled strongly, relaxing at the feel of Iwaizumi’s chest on your back as you could hear his breaths attempting to be steady. A laugh almost bubbles out of your throat when you see his other arm was cradling a bucket of popcorn with various other snacks inside of it.
“Y/N.” Iwaizumi looks down at you seriously, voice blunt. “Want me to hurt him?”
You blanch at the straight-laced tone of your boyfriend, but you find yourself wanting to smile-
“Ah. So you’re why she left. That little slut left me because you came into the picture, huh?”
Iwaizumi suddenly gets an unreadable look in his eye as his bangs seem to cover the dark irises, humorless chuckle slipping his lips as you put a hand on his arm, panicked. His breaths were no longer controlled.
“Hold this.” You blink when he hands you the bucket of popcorn, eyes bewildered before Iwaizumi rolls his sleeves up, taking his time as your ex laughs mockingly at the sight.
“What, are you really gonna hurt me in a-”
You flinch when Iwaizumi shamelessly kicks him to the floor as if he were nothing, fire blazing in his dark eyes as you grip the bucket a little tighter, watching as Iwa bends down to his level, ignoring the crowd beginning to form.
“So not only are you openly going to touch my girlfriend when I’m not near her when she obviously doesn’t like it- you’re gonna call her names too when I’m standing right here?” Iwaizumi tilts his head the slightest bit to the side, just enough to send shivers down his spine.
“Still want to see if I’m really going to do it?” Iwaizumi asks in a bored manner, beginning to reel his fist back as your ex squeaks out a no, scrambling away with his hands before angrily glancing at you in his escape.
Iwa gets back up, dusting his hands off as if nothing had happened before walking back up to you and popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“What theatre are we in?”
“Hajime, you just-”
“I wasn’t actually going to punch him.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Hey.” Iwaizumi uses his finger to wipe at the stray tears in the corner of your eyes. “He made you cry, didn’t he?”
Your eyes widen as your heart bounces around in your chest, Iwaizumi tugging you along as he mumbles something about the movie starting soon.
“As if I’d let some nobody talk about you like that when you’re...”
“When I’m...?” The smile comes back as Iwaizumi finds himself wanting to see it even more before groaning, refusing to look back at you.
“Perfect. There, I said it. Now can we just watch this damn Godzilla movie before your chocolate melts into the popcorn?”
“And you’re sweaty!” You giggle, hugging Atsumu back with both arms outside the volleyball practice gym of Inarizaki as he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to squeal a little. “Don’t tell me you’re going home like this...?”
You laugh as Kita hits Atsumu upside the head, causing your boyfriend to whine as the captain casts you a sorry stare.
“Why he wouldn’t shower before coming to greet you in a filthy state is beyond me.”
“He is standing right here- don’t be mad because you don’t have a cute girl waiting for you.” That last part comes out as a mumble as an irk mark openly emerges on Kita’s head as Atsumu subtly steps behind your giggling form.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Atsumu mumbles, pouting as he looks down at you before hugging you from behind tightly. “I’ll shower. Five minutes- no, three minutes tops-”
“Disgusting. Again Y/N, I’m sorry.” Kita bows at you apologetically before dragging an over-dramatic Atsumu back into the gym as he winks at you in a be back before you know it gesture. You lean back against the wall, shaking your head at your playful boyfriend as you deem it fine to wait a little longer as you swipe through your phone.
“Waiting for someone?”
Your thumb freezes upon your screen as the voice fills your ears, and you boredly meet the eyes of your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and turning your attention back to your phone.
“Why are you even here? Since when do you play volleyball?” You mock, fighting to keep the strain out of your voice as your ex leans a bit too close on the wall-space next to you.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Oh? Have I?” You feign shock, still not looking up at your screen as the device gets ripped from your grip, your ex holding it out of reach as your eyes widen.
“After everything we’ve been through you have the audacity to give your time to someone else?” You flinch at the words directed to you, the manipulative words spinning in your mind as his grip tightens around your wrist, now pinning you to the wall.
You clench your eyes shut, willing it all to go away as you hear him chuckle.
“Yeah. She is.” Your eyes snap open as relief floods your system, a few droplets falling from Atsumu’s hair as he grabs the collar of your ex, flinging him back carelessly as he falls on his ass. Your boyfriend doesn’t even glance back at him, cupping your face carefully with a reassuring smile on his face.
“Sorry. I said three minutes but actually took five.” He kisses the tip of your nose before frowning, finally glancing behind him. “And wow, this is some luck.”
“Kidding, kidding.” Atsumu grins. “After I finish this up, care to go get a parfait?”
“Finish-?” You find yourself under Atsumu’s jacket, obscuring your vision effectively as Atsumu bends down to the level of your ex, smile easygoing but eyes gleaming with a tinge of anger.
“I’ll take that.” Atsumu plucks your phone out of his tightened grip, smile slowly falling from his lips as he glances back to make sure you weren’t watching before tugging your ex his shirt so his mouth is near his ear.
“I’m playing nice because of the cute girl standing over there, but if you show your ugly-ass face anywhere around her when you think I’m not there?” Atsumu grins in satisfaction at the fear that flashes across his face, letting go of his shirt as his back hits the floor.
The setter doesn’t need to glance back to know that he was already gone, humming sweetly as he takes his jacket off your head, stroking your hair soothingly when you hug him tightly.
“God, you’re going to make me never want to leave you alone again. That was three minutes.”
“...five minutes. ” You say, and Atsumu rolls his eyes playfully before smiling into your hair, thankful you couldn’t see the relieved expression on his own face that you were okay before hugging you a little tighter, mumbling into your hair.
“No one gets to touch you like that, sweetheart. Not even me.”
General works: @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @takemetovalhalla @yams046
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↠ restrain [quackity] ▪︎ imagine
↳ quackity receives hateful donations about you.
↳ cursing as usual. lowercase intended. grammar errors. fluff. also george is here.
↳ hi ! like i said i'm trying to write more hahahah. thanks for your patience!
"chat! hi!" quackity lets out. he sits back in his chair when he switched from the 'starting soon screen' to his facecam.
he waves to the camera with a huge but tired smile on his face. his eyes were sullen but still has a bit of light in them. anybody with a 144p video quality can see that he's tired as he has so much more to do yet, as he glanced at the clock he figured that what else is there to do to waste his time other than streaming in the middle of the night?
so he did that and basically invited his viewers to ask him questions while he boots up minecraft and go hang out in the mcc practice server, play ace race, and such. maybe go visit toontown later?
quackity had to turn off tts because it was distracting him so much. he didn't expect that so many people would donate at the same time. the next person who donated 10$ read, "hi quackity, i love you so much, can you pls say hi to my friend elizabeth?"
"no," it was up to you whether alex was joking or not. he still didn't say anything. he had to explain the thing he wanted not to do before continuing to go read more. "uh, quackity hi i'm your biggest fan. what was your first impression of y/n when you saw her for the first time?"
oh yeah, forgot to mention that you're literally dating alex quackity and are living with him in LA for maybe a few weeks or months until you both have to go back to your home countries. you accidentally fell asleep because of exhaustion after doing a stream train with the members of sex-havers (which thinking about it, the name makes everything awkward, but it was only awkward because karl and george made it awkward. obviously you can't be part of their group).
and alex, who always has a ritual of dumping a whole tub of energy drinks inside his body, has still so much energy left. you wanted to lock his fridge so he wouldn't be able to drink some for a while but alex insists that it's fine and he's okay which you were still unsure of. he then counters that it's not even affecting him so there's no use for you to do so, so you hesitantly let him go just this once.
with the position of his PC set up, he can't secretly glance at your sleeping face because his bed is literally situated behind his green screen. he's kinda bummed about that but as long as you're sound asleep, dreaming, in his bed, he's relaxed.
"first impression?" alex paused for a bit, rather concentrated on the ace race course, but soon let out a small intake of breath. "hmm. her hair smelled nice when we hugged." he whispered in a very small voice that those who weren't wearing headphones wouldn't be able to hear him say it.
but those who did quickly spammed aws. half of them were genuinely clarifying what alex was saying that prompted the chat to harvest aws.
"uhh, 'who's taller; you or y/n?'"
"me." alex stated with his full chest. "a hundred percent ME." his minecraft character glided on the yellow speed boost. "i would give you guys a height check but i don't wanna wake her up chat. sometimes you just gotta let your girl sleep after staying up and streaming for 8 hours..."
chat burst in aws again, clearly noticing the way alex calls you his girl yet the one who said it didn't even bat an eyelash and just tried to focus on beating the race.
after a bit of failing at certain parts of the map, he eventually gave up and went to the dream smp to visit his own country. alex decided to turn on tts now and let it talk as he continued finishing las nevadas. he was talking about how exhilarating it feels to make lore. but, "chat, it's hard to tell the details without going to the spoilers category. you're just going to have to wait," he does the evil giggle with an overexaggerated British accent.
"eventually, a familiar someone will come to the story later- ugh it's so exciting, chat."
it was either the most perfect timing or the worst when a donation pops up containing one of the longest paragraphs possible. the donator was named, 'WeHateY/N" and that was just the beginning.
"who the hell is y/n and why is she your girlfriend, she ruined everything because of her ugly face and nasty attitude, tell her that she will never amount to anything-"
alex pressed the skip button a little too hard when he stared at his other monitor where all of his alerts lie. "HUH?" he pretended to be confused. "WHAT?" but deep inside, he felt anger boiling like hot water in a kettle. the corners of his lips quirk up in both amusement and disbelief. "WHAT DID YOU SAY- oh-" he quickly shut his mouth upon realizing that you were still asleep and might wake up at the loudness of his voice.
his eyebrows rose and his lips were pursed. he glanced back again to make sure you were still asleep and when you were just laying like a rock. when he turned back to his screen, yet another donation popped up.
"break up with your girlfriend please-"
"what the fuck are all these donations?" alex let out an incredulous laugh. he warningly looked at his left where his chatbox lie. it was full of spam about the rude donation and it slightly made him glad that they were ready to defend her yet it made him remind them that they should just ignore the comment and move on.
it was pretty hard to concentrate after that. he was just running around his country, jumping up and down the sand. he was still thinking about a few of the donations he received about you. it's just that- how dare they talk ill of you. you don't deserve to receive any hate when you've done nothing wrong.
so with the nerf gun that he randomly found on the ground of his apartment, he jokingly threatened his viewers that if he happens to see or hear any of those hate messages again, it will be on sight.
it was eventually ignored, but the thought still lingered in whatever he does. luckily, george joined his call and managed to distract him.
"go to sleep, quackity." george repeated for the third time
quackity only laughed in disbelief at what he was hearing right now. "i'm streaming, george!"
"i don't care. you're streaming with bot viewers. just end your stream now."
"what the fuck why are you so mean to me?"
"end your stream."
"no." just endless bickering.
when george had to leave though, alex immediately felt exhausted. he switched the screen from his minecraft to facecam before tiredly rubbing his eyes. he stretched as he said the words, "bye, chat!" so it came out haggardly and slightly unclear but alex didn't really care.
alerts and donations were still coming through as he chooses who to raid. puffy was still streaming so he figured he might as well. after doing the right command, he began to say his farewell, until a specific donation come up again.
"good night loser. break up with your dumb girlfriend."
alex just pretended that he didn't hear a single word but his nose was flaring. he tried to simmer down, asking the chat what was wrong when they were spamming hateful comments and proceeded to end his stream. when the raid was successful, he blocked the account of the last donator who just did it to hate on you.
with an annoyed huff, he closed his streaming software for good before pulling the beanie off of his head. he threw it somewhere on his desk as he tried to comb it in the dark.
alex stood up from his gaming chair and reached up to get the green screen and folded it down, revealing you in his hoodie under the blankets. his heart immediately felt warm seeing you in his clothing. he trudged towards the side of the bed and lifted the comforter, scooting next to you.
you consciously pulled him closer when you've felt him beside you. the warmth was there, and it was absolutely comforting. he placed his chin on your hair and wrapped his arms around you, leaving no space between the two of you.
after a moment of silence, you muttered with closed eyes, "alex?"
"are you finished streaming?"
"yeah," his voice was low and it sent a vibration to your ear. "why are you awake right now, shouldn't you be asleep?"
"i'm sleeping now," you trailed off, your fatigue chasing you. "love you,"
with that, alex just pulled you closer, hugged you tighter if it was even possible. "i love you too."
all those hateful comments dissipated from his mind now that he's with you.
@btsiguess-kpop @lovelysmp @just-a-sad-donut @smuttasticc @aikochan4859
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*playing with fire//spencer reid*
summary: Spencer and Reader don’t get along at work, but when they have to pick up a book from Spencer’s apartment for a case and Reader won’t leave his trinkets alone, things get messy.
pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
category: smut and some angst!
content warnings/includes: unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it, please!), fingering, dirty talk, argument, praise, discussion of murder/description of a dead body, choking (not really; more like hand lightly around the throat), use of pet names (sweetheart, baby); Spencer is kind of dominant in this and there’s some conflict but nothing serious. let me know if there’s anything else to add!
prompt: “why don’t you make me?”
word count: 5.1k
A/N: hi everyone! this is for the @spenciebabie fic contest and i’m super excited eek! i've been meaning to write this for a while but i've just felt so blocked recently that i haven't been able to really commit to it until now. did i make some shit up that isn't factual at all for the story? yeah lmao. anyway, this is my first time actually writing for a specific phrase prompt so i'm sorry if it sucks-- ok sorry happy reading!
UPDATE: it won the contest!! 🥺 yay! thank you everyone for reading.
masterlist / part two!
I flip through the open file at my desk, waiting for Penelope to get back from her lair. it's strange being first in the conference room. Hotch is finishing something in his office, JJ had to make a call, and the others are on their way into work. I'm all alone, and I don't mind.
my eyes scan over the details of the case while I wait and snack on my apple. it's a case in DC, so at least we don't need to use the jet. I hear the door open and, without looking up, start talking to Penelope.
"did you bring me a coffee?" I joke.
"why would I bring you a coffee?" the sound of Spencer's voice makes me jolt so hard, I drop the papers. he's standing in the threshold of the conference room with a mug, stirring his drink.
the moderately bubbly feeling from before disappears at the sight of him.
Spencer and I don't like each other very much. ever since I joined the team a while back, he's been nothing short of a snob. I don't know what his problem is, but he avoids me at every turn and ignores my input during case briefings-- or he corrects me with some of the useless information he's got stored in that pretentious brain of his.
"I thought you were Pen." I shrug and turn my eyes back to the papers. there's an awkward silence as he pulls out a chair across from me and sits down. he doesn't have anything to look at because Garcia has all the folders with her, so his eyes move about the room before settling on me.
"can I see?" he asks.
I glance up cautiously. Reid's hair is messier than usual today, all curls and stubble. his eyes are tired, swimming with an irritation that only makes me want to frustrate him more with my sing-song voice. "no."
I crunch into my apple. "just wait until Pen gets here."
Spencer rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair, scoffing. I can feel the hostility radiating off of him as he mutters under his breath. he’s incredulous.
"what's wrong with you?" I ask. it’s hard to keep from smirking at the way it gets under his skin. I’m only playing, but he gets riled up.
"me? what's wrong with you?" his voice goes to a slightly higher pitch, like he can't believe me. and admittedly, I'm acting a little juvenile-- but only because he's usually pretty rude and I would like to inconvenience him.
"nothing's wrong with me,” I shrug, flipping the thing shut and leaning my elbows on the table with a pleasant smile. “I'm a delight."
Spencer suddenly reaches over to snag it, but I'm quicker and slap my hand down on top.
"you're done reading!" he complains like a child. I'm about to protest when Penelope wanders into the room with a stack of files. Spencer's fingers are still pressed to the folder while he tries to slide it over to himself. I glare back. now that he wants it, I do, too.
"hey, stop that!" Garcia slaps Reid's hand. he flinches and moves, which causes me to send a victorious smirk his way. the tech analyst points a neon-painted finger at me. "don't you get all cocky, either, Y/N."
I cross my arms over my chest and take another bite of my apple, Reid and I staring each other down. he’s much more irritated than I am, but that’s what makes it enjoyable. sometimes a vein in his forehead will pop out when he’s really mad, and that’s a marker for me to back down. it’s not there now, though.
"you're immature." he says quietly while he opens up the file that the blonde just handed him. I roll my eyes and start a conversation with the other person in the room. as team members start to filter in, Penelope keeps looking between the two of us as if she's still bothered by our interaction. she's tried several times now to get us to be friends-- forcing us to sit beside each other during drinking games, making us each other's Secret Santa last Christmas-- everything she can think of, but it just won't work.
some people aren't meant to be friends.
she starts to detail the case for us-- which includes the murders of several prostitutes-- and I focus on her presentation. but Spencer's eyes are digging into my face from across the table and it's taking everything in me not to engage. if he has an issue, he can take it up with me when we're not working. it would be a hell of a lot easier, however, if he would stop.
by the end of the briefing, I'm clenching my fists beneath the table and hoping that Hotch pairs me off with Prentiss so that I can just get out of here to focus on something that actually matters.
but of course, that doesn't work out as planned, either.
"Rossi, JJ, I want you two to head to Janet Kingsley's apartment-- try to find out if you can find anything about where she found her clients," Hotch glances around the table. "Y/L/N, Reid, talk to the ME--"
"uh--" Spencer opens his mouth to protest, but one warning glance from JJ makes it clamp shut in defeat. Hotch finishes delegating and everyone gets up to leave, the genius still seething. I raise an eyebrows as I stand.
"who's being immature, now?" I whisper as I brush past.
the lengthwise slash marks down Janet's forearms are deep, red, unnerving. like something out of a horror movie.
"I'm guessing the cause of death was exsanguination?" I ask the ME. he's studying at his clipboard, but lifts his eyes to mine when he responds.
"yes. it was quick, too."
Spencer straightens up from examining the deep gashes in her skin. his hands are stuffed into his slacks, exposing the holstered gun at his side.
"it actually seems like the work of a livestock farmer," he walks around the table, never taking his gaze from the corpse as he uses a gloved finger to point out the wounds. "he sliced open major arteries for maximum efficiency."
"clinical." I observe. Spencer nods and crosses his arms over his chest.
"y'know, despite the victimology, our unsub is likely from out of town."
"not many livestock farmers in DC." the ME makes a dry joke that nobody laughs at. my brow furrows.
"well, that messes with our profile. how are we supposed to find out where this guy's from, then?"
for a moment, the insufferable genius goes completely silent. his irises move rapidly over the ceiling as he thinks to himself, gears in his brain turning almost visibly before us. the ME watches him with a veiled confusion.
this is another thing I despise about spending time with Reid: whenever we meet new people for cases, all they do is coo and gush about how smart he is. they're just feeding his ego when they ask about his stupid PhDs and the innumerable other degrees he's working on. as if he's some sort of intellectual god and they're ready to worship at his altar.
he acts like it's no big deal, but the impression of their admiration is evident from the way he behaves toward everyone else: doesn't listen to anyone about anything. he lives in his head.
when he starts to examine Kingsley's corpse with a focused expression, I wait for him to voice his thoughts.
"there can be some distinct regional differences sometimes in the way that the process is completed, though. especially in the South, depending on the livestock." he's checking for markers on her body.
"like?" the fact that her body has been treated like butcher meat makes my skin crawl.
"well I don't know. I just got a book about it but I haven't had the time to read." his tone is quick, biting, and I scowl at the unnecessary reaction. who reads about that kind of thing, anyway? the ME glances between us; even he can feel the tension. I want to say something back, but it would be unprofessional and this really isn't the place to start bickering about his manners.
"we can ask Garcia to search it up, then--" I pull out my phone.
"there's no need. my apartment is a seven minute drive from here and the book will have more detailed information," he interrupts me, snapping the gloves off of his hands and turning his attention to the ME. "thanks for your time."
"no problem,” the balding white guy still seems wary of us. “let me know if you need anything else."
Spencer struts hurriedly out of the room. all I can do is give an apologetic smile before following. our footsteps echo in the hallway.
"what the hell was that?" I snap the second we're out of earshot. Reid swings open the door of the building, holding it for me. his gait is already pretty fast, given his long legs, but he's going even faster right now. I have to practically jog to catch up.
"what." it comes out as a statement.
"the snippiness?" I jab my thumb backwards toward the place. he doesn't seem fazed.
"sorry. I don't like not knowing things."
"so?" I scoff. "you made us look like idiots, Reid. we're in the fucking FBI. you can't walk around pitching fits like a child."
Spencer stops in his tracks, right before the car, turns to me. there’s something else there, although I don’t know what it is.
"we don't have time for this."
I make a series of shocked noises. where to begin? I want to punch him for that, turning this on me like I'm the one wasting precious hours. he gestures to the vehicle in front of us. his lips are pursed. "let's just get this done, shall we?"
I'm pretty sure every muscle in my face is taut with frustration. as much as I want to march over and slap him, he's right: we don't have time to argue about anything. I'll need to tuck away my anger for later.
we get in the car and head to his place, the silence deafening as I stare out the window. something is happening and I don’t know what it is; he would never confide in me for any reason, especially because he barely confides in the other members of the team. thank god it's a short drive, because I'm about five seconds from losing my grip on reality and yelling.
Spencer's knuckles are white around the steering wheel and I can feel his anger. if it’s only directed at me, I don't know; I'm assuming he's partly upset about not knowing the answer to the butchering techniques. but even then, it's irrational and childish. if he can't get over the fact that sometimes he's just not going to know things, then he needs to grow up. that's the way the world works.
I follow Spencer up the stairs of his building. the only sounds are the creaking of the steps as I look around, along with the rattle of old pipes. I've never been here, obviously. it’s pretty, and I’m even more surprised when he slips the key into the lock to let us in. his living space fits him perfectly: green walls laden with works of art, books shoved into every possible nook and cranny, antique lamps. a teacup rests precariously on a stack of newspapers.
"of course you read the paper." I mutter to myself as I shut the door behind me. Spencer turns his head to glare at me.
"what was that?"
"nothing." he heard me.
"it should be around here somewhere." Reid starts to sift through the countless titles that litter his apartment. it takes everything in me not to point out that he should make a system for all of it.
while he pokes around, I start to explore. afternoon light slips through the curtains, illuminating floating dust particles and casting the wood floors in a soft glow. it's something out of a movie, a Victorian air that makes me feel strangely comforted.
of course, I won't ever admit that. my eyes flit over to his crouching form as he goes through a leaning tower of books beside the desk.
I sigh and tap the glass surface of a ship in a bottle. the plinking sound catches his attention, but he doesn't say anything, so I continue on. a couple pictures are framed on the wall of him with his mother, some of the team (which I'm shockingly included in), but not much more photographic memorabilia. everything seems encased in literature.
I spin to see him opening a volume to its table of contents. he flips through a couple pages while I observe the velvety soft cushions of his leather couch. everything about this place screams warmth in a way that I didn’t anticipate. there are threads of insanity throughout, too-- stray papers and uncapped pens-- but for the most part, I find myself charmed.
"find what you need?" I wonder aloud.
"yeah. there's a picture here that's similar to the markings on Janet's body. I'm gonna call Garcia and see what she can find." he doesn't even look up to say it, getting on the phone quickly while I continue my deep dive into his belongings. half of me expects him to correct my behavior, although he doesn’t seem to mind enough.
after about five minutes, I make my way to the desk. he's still talking to her, arms crossed over his chest while she lists some results.
"--I'm assuming rural Virginia." he says. I can't hear the other side of the conversation, but I don't need to. I twirl a fountain pen between my fingers and run my eyes over the scribbled notes written in the margins of academic journal papers. Spencer glances at me once, warning me to stop with his eyes.
I don't stop. there's a particularly interesting globe on his desk. it's topographic, lovely. my fingertips brush over the shape of Asia and Reid clenches his jaw. despite the garble of Penelope's voice on the phone, he speaks directly to me.
"don't touch that."
I smirk and push on the globe, spin the world on its brass axis with the tip of my finger. he watches it intently, then refocuses on my face. there's a flame there that makes my spine tingle. he's angry with me, and I sort of like it.
"he would likely have no mother, maybe a cheating father-- his hatred of women probably stems from the lack of a consistent maternal figure." he doesn't take his eyes off of me while he talks. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and lean over the desk to grab a couple of his pens. every movement draws his hazel irises. I can see him getting increasingly annoyed.
there's an abrupt sound of triumph from Penny's end, followed by her cheerful voice, and Spencer nods.
"perfect. if Hotch and the rest of them head over there, we can wait," he dares me to keep playing around. I don't disappoint: both hands on the sphere, I spin it and wait for him to get off the phone. the expression on his face is murderous as he signs off. "thanks, Garcia."
the click of the button seals my fate. Spencer doesn't say anything to me at first.
"any progress?" as if I didn't just hear the whole conversation.
"I told you not to touch my things." he ignores the question.
"I was bored."
"do you know how old that globe is, Y/N?” a rhetorical question that he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “it's worth at least a thousand dollars." he's trying to maintain his composure. I don't want him to.
"a thousand dollars for something you already know so well?" I push. the muscles in his jaw jump for a millisecond. he swallows.
"take your hands off it." he orders. I release my bottom lip from my teeth and feel my heart hammering in my chest. he's so pretty when he gets like this, so angry. like he's ready to teach me a lesson.
Spencer and I argue often, but the arguments never amount to much. they usually dissipate quickly and leave us with an unresolved tension that follows us around the office. we avoid each other because if we don't, we both know what's going to happen. and maybe I'm a little bit afraid of how much I want him to let loose on me, how much I want to feel those vengeful fingers around my throat. sometimes I add fuel to the fire because it excites me.
which is why the next words are charged: "why don't you make me?"
Reid walks over silently, suddenly wraps his hands around both of my wrists with an iron grip. I don't deign to breathe as he moves forward, pushing me into the wall. a shiver runs down my spine at our position. blocked in.
"like this?" Spencer looks down at me, pupils enormous. his face is so close to mine-- closer than it's ever been. full, pink lips forming every word and begging to be kissed. I nod, unable to respond coherently. he's so beautiful.
"no attitude now, huh." his smirk makes my stomach flip with excitement. I stare into his eyes and pray that he does something about it. my ensuing silence causes him to release one of my wrists to gently wrap around my throat. he doesn't press, only tests the waters. "good girl."
I feel myself grin eagerly, the low register of his voice and the way he takes in my features causing me to squeeze my thighs together. he hasn't even kissed me and I'm soaking wet.
"wh-- what about the case?" through the fog in my mind, I recall our obligations. we can't be more irresponsible than we already have been.
"they don't need us right now, baby," the pet name sends goosebumps over my skin. "we'd just be sitting in the station, anyway."
relief. because all I want right now is to break the rules, to make him mine right here in his own apartment. and I want him to claim me, too. Spencer sees my doe eyes, the playful taunts that have vanished from my lips.
"what am I gonna do with you?" he lowers his mouth to my jaw, dragging his teeth across my jawline before scattering my throat with love bites. my free hand tangles in his hair. I wonder, as he starts to suck at my jugular and moves his grip to my waist, if he can feel the rapidity of my pulse. how it beats for him, even when it shouldn't.
I try to speak through the gentle waves of pleasure he's causing with his mouth right now.
"kiss me." dripping with need. Spencer stops his thorough work on my neck to face me again. his gaze bores holes into me, a pink excitement evident in his cheeks before he cups my cheek and dives in to press his mouth voraciously to mine. it's messy at first, both of us already too hungry for each other to care much about grace, but we find a perfect balance. he tastes like mint gum and when his tongue dances over mine, I moan.
so many small arguments, coarse words, hateful glances. as if that would be enough to deter everything else within us, including the general attraction I've always felt towards him. and it seems he's been attracted to me, too, with the way he groans into my mouth and rolls his torso into mine.
"Spencer." I breathe. he lets my other wrist go, losing control of his need to touch my body and yanking my hips to his. I squeal at the force.
"such a pretty girl," he murmurs affectionately. my heart flutters at both the compliment and the genuine meaning when he says it. I lift my leg to wrap around him and get the friction that I crave, and Reid pushes further. "you'd be even prettier with my cock inside you."
my heart palpitates at the thought. I don't know how much longer I can take the waiting, my hips rutting up against his in any pathetic attempt to stimulate myself. he takes my earlobe between his teeth and tugs.
"please." I beg for more. he's trying not to give in, but the way my fingertips tug on the ends of his hair drives him wild. it's in the way he seeks any way to grab and hold me. he quickly undoes the buttons of my shirt and licks over my bottom lip.
feverish. he parts my shirt, presses our foreheads together when he peers down at my chest. reaches up to cup my tits over my bra while he pants. I watch and secretly pray for him to put his mouth back over mine. all I can feel is the weight of his body and the delicious atmosphere we've created together.
one of his hands slides between our bodies, under my skirt, rubbing over my panties. part of me is embarrassed by the inevitable wet spot awaiting him, but he bites his lip and moans while beginning to circle over the lacy fabric.
my mouth drops open at the pleasure, bucking against his hand. he smiles.
"Spence, I need more." I choke out between whimpers. I'm going to go insane from the desire swirling in my stomach. he raises his eyebrows.
"Spence?" repeats the nickname back to me. I've never used it before.
"mhmm." I whine. he increases the pressure on my clit.
"I like that," his voice is dangerously low. "you're a little brat, but you know you're mine."
my jaw clenches to withhold the sinful noises that I want to release. it would be so easy to give in immediately, to let him know just how much he's right; but I like the way we function together. although my IQ isn't as high, I can certainly hold my own-- and he knows it.
"not yet." I taunt. his movements hesitate for a moment.
and then he slides his index beneath my panties and dips into my wet center. I yelp and feel my hips jump at the sensation, then start to roll enthusiastically against him. I can't help myself.
"you sure about that?" he smirks into my cheek.
I mumble something mindless, likely an unconvincing denial, without halting my own actions. he chuckles and kisses my neck. "speak up. I wanna hear you say it."
"fuck me." I whine. Reid grunts as he rocks himself into me at the sound of my begging. his finger curls inside, brushing against my walls, and I gasp. the heel of his palm works my clit, keeps me going. I'm going to lose my mind if he doesn't put it in, soon.
"be patient, baby." he ruts and my hands move from his curls to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them with all the concentration I can muster. he adds another finger to my pussy. I'm fumbling, but I don't care at all once I tug them down.
his cock hits his stomach and I see him for the first time. Spencer kisses my neck and sinks his teeth in when I wrap my fingers around it, his quiet sounds of pleasure muffled. I pump him a few times, swipe my thumb over the tip to gather his precum. he starts to buck into my hand.
"so greedy." I giggle. Spencer nips at my skin before pushing me harder against the wall.
"watch your mouth."
"or what?" I taunt him again, knowing there's nowhere else for him to go. he wants the same thing-- desperately, it seems. we lock eyes; regardless of how we act together after this, something will inevitably be different. a tension broken. all I want is to cross that line. and when he takes hold of himself, I pull my panties to the side. even though he teases my entrance to torture me, I let him sink inside without hesitation.
at first, the intrusion makes me tighten. there's no air in my lungs from the way he stretches me out, my head gently falling back against the wall. Spencer groans deeply as he grabs my hips and keeps pushing. my eyes squeeze shut.
"Spence-- fuck--" my stomach muscles tense.
"so tight." he moans, finally to the hilt. neither of us moves for a moment, our breaths the only sound. there aren't enough words to describe how full he makes me feel. all I can do is admire his flushed skin and the vein in his forehead that sticks out from restraining himself. I never thought it would make an appearance for this reason.
"keep going." I grip onto his shoulders and move a little to urge him. he responds quickly, pulls out and thrusts back in. my body struggles to accommodate at first, but soon I settle into it.
he's trying to keep from absolutely shoving into me, stuttering his movements and biting his lip while gripping my waist with a stifled passion. we're pressed together.
"I've wanted this for so fucking long." he admits through gritted teeth, finally giving into his desires and slamming into it. the thrust sends me up the wall a bit and I squirm with pleasure.
"me too." I pant through the sounds he's eliciting from me, his lips finding their place against my collarbone. I feel like I'm in heaven with the way he digs his fingernails into my flesh to pull me down onto his cock.
"all that attitude--" he's rough. "just because you wanted me to fuck you."
I let out a low, lecherous moan. his voice is so fucking sexy in my ear, each word dripping with a pent-up craving. I want to give him everything, hand it over, get on my knees and submit. he's got his flaws, but so do I. "mhmm."
"I knew it..." he presses his lips to mine, swallowing my sounds and showing a fondness that I didn't expect. "acting so innocent when all you really want is to be fucked."
I grab the back of his neck and use the leverage to roll myself down on him, his dick hitting different angles. there's a pressure on my clit from the position, and it's perfect.
we came here to find a book and now he's fucking me against a wall. I don't want to be anywhere else.
"it feels s-so good." I whimper. Spencer grabs my other leg and lifts me up so both are wrapped around his waist. it's a whole different feeling, deep enough to brush over my cervix, and I cry out.
"I bet it does," he squeezes my skin and picks up the pace until he's relentlessly thrusting into me, every second another opportunity to make me scream. his name tumbles from my mouth over and over, a repetition that only brings me closer to the edge. he's loud, too. "taking my cock so well."
"I'm close." I tell him, the quick pulsations of my walls helping him along. he goes harder.
"I can feel it--" he drops his head onto my shoulder. "right there, baby, that's right. take it like a good girl."
my entire frame tightens as I cling for dear life to him, each push sending me up the wall before I sink back onto his length. the wave comes, crashes over me and wraps around my lungs until there's only the pressure in my stomach, building-- snapping.
"Spencer, oh my-- fuck, fuck, fuck!" I lose control, jaw dropping wide before he kisses me to silence the sound. his tongue meets mine hungrily. he groans and pulls away reluctantly.
"where should I cum?" the words are raspy. my eyes roll back into my head while I pull him against me.
Spencer nods, reunites our lips and cups my jaw with one hand. it's gentle compared to how hard he's railing me, but a slow grin spreads over my face through the kiss. ecstasy when he shudders and tenses, stills himself to release.
the sensation makes me close my eyes. Spencer's breath hitches while he watches my reaction. the flutter of kisses over my cheekbone, my temple, makes me relax. I feel the tension in my limbs melt away. I want it again. god, I want it every day.
he gives a few more thrusts to keep his cum inside me, the helpless noises that pour from my mouth only further incentive. I'm floating, letting his hands run over my form with the kind of appetite that only comes with months of yearning.
neither of us tries to move away at first. part of me doesn't want to leave this perfect place. where we don't fight, where things are easier. like a spell. if we disentangle, I'm scared that we won't be able to return.
our heart rates slow. Spencer won't take his eyes off of me.
"we should get back to the station." it comes out hoarse, probably because I just spent my voice screaming his name. I can sense him deflate a little, and part of that knowledge comforts me. at least I'm not the only one.
silence as we try to figure out how we're going to handle this. he pulls out and I take a second to regain my composure before I move. he looks me up and down again as if to memorize the details of my figure. my fingertips work at the buttons of my shirt. I need to go clean up.
"we... we can leave this alone, right?" I clarify. my eyes cut to his. Spencer swallows as he tucks himself back into his pants. nervousness floods my chest as I notice his hesitation.
“honestly,” he purses his lips. “I don’t wanna leave it alone.”
my stomach drops. “what?”
“I think we could work around it.” he says, more confidently this time. it hits me a moment later.
“like... friends with benefits?” the idea almost makes me laugh, lips turning up slightly at the implication. he smirks.
“we were never really friends, but yeah, that’s the idea.”
I turn over the idea in my head. it doesn’t need to be a big deal, no dating or actual emotions. just pure fun when we feel like it. it won’t affect our jobs.
“okay.” I agree. he raises his eyebrows, semi-surprised.
“sure. as long as there’s nothing else involved.” I narrow my eyes a bit, baiting him to play along with our usual dynamic. he bites his lip slightly.
“trust me, that’s not a concern.” it’s a joke and I punch his shoulder playfully. he lets out a slightly boyish giggle, ducking out of the way.
“rude.” I pout.
“go get cleaned up so we can leave!” his voice hits that higher register again and I throw my hands up. he points to the bathroom. I pause before I go in, hand on the door jamb while I turn my face just slightly to peek at Spencer. he’s toying with the book from earlier, distracted and too beautiful.
what did I just get myself into?
part 2 here!
taglist (lmk if you wanna be added!)-- @voidsfilm @reidsconverse
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it's messy inside, let me take your coat
Summary: “I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”
Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-sized (f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut, female nudity), strong language, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of fluff, soft and nervous Bucky Barnes, original female character friends, one-night stand, body insecurity, anxiety
Word Count: 8723
A/N: This story was written for @eurynome827 and her 2k follower challenge with the prompt "Mimosas and Bloody Marys at brunch." Thank you for hosting and congrats again on your milestone!
main masterlist | AO3
The flutes clink together, orange juice sloshing and spilling and dripping down the glasses and onto the table as your giggles fade into the background noise of the café’s patio. You tip your head back as you drink, mimosas bubbly in your throat like your own happiness, threatening to pour out of you and dribble onto your shirt, already tipsy.
“God,” Carissa says, throwing herself back into the metal chair, “I cannot wait to have his babies.”
Beside her, Kora claps. “I can’t wait to be an aunt! I’m going to spoil them all so rotten you’re going to want to throttle me by the end of it.”
“Spoil them all you want, I’m having eight of ‘em.”
At that, you go ahead and polish off your drink, carbonation stinging your throat, and while you set the empty glass down your hand goes up in the air, signaling the waiter for another.
Sara points at you. “I’m with her.” She makes a face at Carissa. “If you have eight kids I will make like your dad and bounce.”
Kora slaps her on the knee but the four of you descend into laughter anyway, and it’s easy and light and beautiful, like always. Washington D.C. can be pretty in this way—iron-wrought fencing and fancy metal tables and red patio tiling. Good food, better mimosas, best friends. There’s a breeze in the air that’s calling for autumn, scattering cloth napkins sitting in laps and spreading the scent of fresh baked bread.
The bags at your feet carrying your new shoes for the winter wedding that’s approaching rustle. That feeling isn’t just D.C. It’s excitement and love and adoration, too.
Carissa, bride to be, catches you in her gaze. “When are you going to finally settle down, huh?” She gestures across the table at you with her half-filled mimosa. Everyone else looks at you too, waiting for your response.
You shrug. “You’re having plenty of babies, I don’t need any.”
“I don’t mean babies,” she says. “I mean a human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment.”
“You need—no, you deserve—someone to take care of you!” Kora adds. “You’re always taking care of everyone. Don’t you want someone to, y’know, take care of you?”
“I have plenty of vibrators in my empty apartment.”
Sara snorts, covering her mouth. The waiter delivers another round, thank god.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask, sighing. “You’re just bothering me ‘cause it’s wedding season and you want to set me up with your weird—”
“He’s not weird,” Carissa interrupts. “He’s tall and he’s mysterious which is exactly your type.”
“She’ll find someone when the time is right,” Sara says. “Just ‘cause we’re happy with our boyfriends doesn’t mean she needs one to be happy.”
“Thank you, Sara, my one-true-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world.” You force your glass against hers in a loud clank, turning the heads of all the patrons on the café’s patio before taking a gulp. Your face is already getting a little hot, the alcohol hitting you. This is why you aren’t allowed to pregame before you go to brunch anymore.
“We’re not trying to force you,” Kora starts, but her mouth is pulled into a concerned frown. “We really do just want you to be as happy as we are, that’s all.”
You smile at her. “I know.”
And you do know. You understand. It’s been years now since you’ve had anything real—anything worthwhile, to be specific. At some point, the relationships slowed down. Boyfriends became friends with benefits when you were working on your masters. Friends with benefits became ignored booty calls at two in the morning when you started your dissertation, on the road to get your doctorate. Now, you’re lucky to go home with someone from the bar, and they never, ever, come home with you.
It’s okay. You aren’t lonely. The right person just hasn’t landed in your lap, and maybe that’s kind of because it’s not open, but it’s just ‘cause you’re busy. You’re busy. Passionate. Need to change the world.
Love can wait.
The next mimosa is finished and you’re feeling a little fuzzy.
“I’m happy for you,” you tell Carissa. “I’m happy for all of you, and I’m happy with my life, and I’m happy that we’re all together and we’re celebrating and I’m happy that you all care about me enough to worry but I’m perfectly fine with how things are.”
Carissa smiles, but it’s got too much teeth. “I could set you up with Kie—”
“No, no setting me up with Kieran or Harry or Josh or anyone. But especially not Kieran.”
You’d already fucked him once and it wasn’t worth the experience.
“Fine! Fine.” Carissa busies herself with her drink. “No setting you up with Kieran.”
“Good. Now let’s talk about the reception!” You pull out your phone and open the planning spreadsheet, smiling. “So I called the venue for you about the tables…”
This is easier. Planning Carissa’s wedding, helping support her, being excited for her—that’s easier than talking about your love life. If anything, this is your love life. Taking care of the people you love, your best friends, having fun and being together and romanticizing the time you spend with them. It’s not just mimosas over brunch and a green spreadsheet for wedding planning. With them, it’s the wind in your hair and the sun making your eyes sparkle and the alcohol making all your insides feel effervescent.
It’s love. It’s perfection. It’s your own brand of happiness.
And sure, maybe it’s a little defensive, but this is easier than loving someone and trying to make them love you. It’s easier.
“Whose dress are we still waiting on?” Carissa asks a little later, mouth full of avocado and bacon and looking very un-bridely.
“Mine,” Kora says, a little guiltily. “It’s at the tailor getting taken in—again.”
“I have mine,” you pipe up, wiping your mouth of jam. “And god, do I look like a full course Michelin star meal in that piece. Like, we’re talking ass for days, legs for days, tits for—”
“Excuse me, ma’am, excuse me.” A man, towering over the café table makes himself known, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a look on his visage that you can’t name.
“—days,” you finish, swallowing hard.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a smile, “but I’m raising money for uh, breast cancer awareness, and I was hoping you would donate and sign up for uh, a marathon we’re doing.”
You blink. “Sorry,” you tell him, “but we don’t carry cash on us.” With a small smile, you nod at him, your eyes passing over your friends and looking around the café to see if any of the other patrons have noticed what’s going on. None of them look bothered.
“Not even for breast cancer awareness? C’mon, girl.”
“We don’t carry cash,” Sara repeats with a deadpan, but her eyes don’t meet his.
He doesn’t look at her either, content to stare at you, and your skin crawls.
“What about signing up for the marathon?”
“Fine,” you snap. Anything to get him to leave you all alone. “How do I sign up?”
“You give me your phone number and I’ll text you the details.” His grin is a little wider now, edging a little closer to where you sit at the table. You’re regretting that third mimosa. You aren’t on your game. The panic running through you is covered in a champagne haze.
You scoff. “No way.” Immediately you grab your purse, digging through it, and you slam a handful of loose change onto the table in front of him. “Here—a donation. Now please leave.”
His face twists into a scowl, but he scoops the money off the table and pockets it.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he suddenly says, and anger courses through you until you shoot up from your seat, chair skidding behind you. He’s tall—much taller than your short stature. But, fuck it, the alcohol’s dimming the fear and fueling the need for you to protect your friends.
When you glance over, Carissa is already gathering the bags, eyes wide. Kora has her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to make herself smaller, ready to run. Sara’s phone is in her hand, 9-1-1 already dialed.
And still, no one in the café is doing a goddamn thing.
“Excuse me?” You glare up at the man.
“I just wanted your number, you fat bitch.” He sneers. “No wonder you’ve got an attitude, you obviously don’t get laid.”
Really, you can sit there and say it isn’t the fat comment. It’s not the insult. You’re used to that, with your overly-generous curves and your soft jawline and the fact that you’re wearing a skirt showing off the cellulite running through your thighs like a creek and a crop top that lets everyone peek at your stretch marks. You’re used to it.
And, really, you could handle this better. You certainly have before ‘cause this isn’t the first time you’ve been hustled or the first time some creep has hit on you. Old men have been slapping your ass in public since you were sixteen. You’re hot, you get it. If you saw yourself on the street you’d want a piece of your own goddamn ass, too. It comes with the territory, but it’s gross. And it’s sad but you’re used to it. So it’s not him calling you a fat bitch.
It’s the comment about getting laid. It’s sore as fuck.
You grab your would-be fourth mimosa and drench him in it, the glass slipping from your fingers and shattering upon the patio’s tiled floor in an instant.
“Slut!” The man lunges for you and you jump away, bumping into the table and losing your footing. You fall to the ground as glass comes crashing down around you, spilling sweet-smelling alcohol all over you. Ouch. Your friends scream, but you can’t take your eyes off him.
And then a gleam of black and gold blurs past you and grabs the creep by his neck, throwing him down. Now, a tall, wide body dressed in a dark hoodie is blocking you, guarding you, sheltering you.
“Try it,” Mystery Savior says.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Carissa chants, calling your name.
Your hand is sticky when you wave her away. “Get out of here, I’m fine. Just go. I’ll meet you—meet you at Kora’s.”
“We’re not leaving you!” Sara shouts, but something, maybe adrenaline or fear or fucking champagne, is running through your blood vessels at high speed.
“Just go!” you scream back at her. “I’m not fucking kidding, go!”
Because if there is one redeemable thing about you, it’s the length you’ll go to keep the people you love safe. And Mystery Savior might have just choked a creep out for you, but he also choked a creep out for you, and that’s enough to get your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t know who the good guy is—if there even is a good guy here.
“Fuck,” the creep curses, but it comes out raspy as he grasps at his quickly bruising neck. “You’re a—” he wheezes, “—you’re a murderer!”
Mystery Savior holds up his hands, and that’s when you see it. The black and gold of a vibranium arm just peeking out of the sleeve of his hoodie.
This isn’t a murderer. Not a Mystery Savior either. This is James Bucky Barnes, the Avenger, holy shit. Definitely good guy. Probably. He’s reformed, the news talks about it.
“Caught me,” he says, voice monotone. “What are you gonna do about it?”
If you weren’t currently sprawled on the ground, covered in mimosa, and panicking wildly about whatever is unfolding right in front of you, the very buzzed part of your brain would really appreciate the smoothness of Bucky’s voice when he said that, the cool, calm, collected delivery.
You’ll file it in the back of your mind for when you go back to your empty apartment.
“That fat ass ain’t worth it,” the creep chokes out, scrambling to get up. As soon as he’s on his feet, poised to take off, Bucky moves faster than you could have imagined and grabs the guy by his shirt.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You can’t see his face, but you think Bucky might be smiling.
A portly man, a little shorter than Bucky, pushes through the gathering crowd, eyes wide and panicked, face red, already sweating. When you glance at his golden nametag, it reads: Jason, Manager. Cool that the manager showed up this late. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in, you’d probably be in a pile of limbs on the ground by now. Also—is he going to comp your bill? ‘Cause at this point, you’re starting to think you deserve it.
Okay, not a good time to be distracted.
“Thank you for getting him, sir,” the manager says, a little breathless. “Winter Soldier, sir.”
“It’s Bucky,” he says, and then he shoves the creep toward the manager. “Not sure why you didn’t step in before he got violent.”
Exactly! Why did everyone just stand around and do nothing as some six-foot man hustled the four women sitting beside the street? You glance around again, seeing your friends have disappeared and now, both the wait staff and other café patrons, are crowded around your table. It’s a little unsettling how no one cared to even look at you until everything escalated.
As the manager grabs the creep and hauls him off toward the street to wait for the cops, Bucky Barnes relaxes his shoulders and turns toward you slowly, and it’s—well, for lack of a better word—it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
He looks nothing like the superhero in the pictures. Here, with the D.C. sun hitting him unabashedly, his slate eyes like glass marbles, the lines surrounding them wrinkled in concern, his tongue darting between his lips to wet the skin where his teeth bite down, a habitual sore, his short locks ruffled by the breeze or maybe the fight or maybe he just wakes up perfectly rumpled, here he looks like a man.
“You okay?” he asks, somehow nonchalant and still worried, and he holds out a calloused hand to you.
Or, well, maybe Bucky had been watching. And maybe that’s enough.
God, you don’t even know this man outside of his Avenger persona, the headlines you read on the news, the pictures you see on social media, but there’s just something about him that makes you want to trust him. Like he guarantees safety, and you know that no one, least of all an Avenger, can guarantee safety. Even if that’s their job.
Stop feeling safe around him.
But you take his hand anyway, his long, thick fingers folding over your own like he means to swallow them, and Bucky pulls you up as though you weigh nothing. In fact, he does it so easily that you crash straight into him with a yelp and his arms instantly slide around your waist to catch you as your knees go weak, buckling beneath you.
When you look up at him, your hands trying to find purchase in the material of his hoodie, he’s staring down at you with the hint of a smile.
“Thanks,” you say, quiet and a little stunned.
His lips crack a little wider. “No problem.”
For a few seconds longer than deemed socially appropriate, you stare at Bucky, captured by the changing color of his blue-gray eyes. And then, as if god is slapping you on the back of your head, you blink and remember that you are covered in alcohol and currently pressed against the chest of a superhero, and your eyes go wide as you quickly push away from him.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m disgusting—you probably have orange juice all over you now, fuck.”
“Hey,” he says, his flesh hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you, “it’s okay. Seriously though, are you alright?”
You open your mouth to say something and then shut it again when you realize nothing sounds like the right answer. Bucky waits patiently though, peering down at you, his grip a little more grounding than you wish it was.
“Yes?” you say, but it sounds like a question. “I mean, maybe? I’m—It’s not like I’m not used to this happening. I’ll be fine.”
Bucky frowns. “Used to it?”
You shrug. “Not all men are superheroes. Most don’t have good intentions. And I’m not even that pretty, can you imagine what other women deal with?”
It slips out before you realize it, the self-hatred you keep at bay.
“Not pretty?” Bucky’s face twists into something confused. “That guy assaulted you just to get your number. I’m not saying it’s right, but if you think you aren’t pretty, well that’s just wrong.”
Oh god, what are you supposed to say now? So stupid. If you had just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have forced an Avenger—a really fucking hot Avenger—to give you an awkward compliment and now you have to scramble to figure out what to say. If you deny the compliment, you’ll look ungrateful. If you accept the compliment, that’s too egotistical. Too into yourself.
You’ve backed yourself into a corner here, and Bucky’s on the other side of the ring.
“Look,” he interrupts your inner monologuing, running a hand through his hair and glancing away, “if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re—well—you’re gorgeous. I hope you know that.”
Your mouth falls open and you stare at him, nervous energy radiating off him, and when his eyes shift back to yours he coughs.
“I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not—I’m not trying to hit on you after what just happened, I promise.” His eyes go wide, then, and he throws his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “That’s not to say I’m not! Not hitting on you. I mean, shit, I just think you’ve gotta be the most beautiful dame—woman, sorry—that I’ve seen in years.”
There’s something soft about it, something sweetly suffocating, like buttercream frosting in the back of your throat, about his nervousness. The gentle panic, the way his eyes go back and forth from the ground at your feet to your eyes like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t said the wrong thing, but he just keeps putting his foot in his mouth like it’s a magnet to metal. It’s endearing. It’s real.
“Do you want to get a drink with me?” you blurt out, and Bucky blanches. “I know it’s only, like, noon but I need a drink. And I owe you. For saving me.”
He relaxes at this, another one of those small smiles easing its way onto his face, and his shoves his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t just panicking two seconds ago about calling you a dame, which if anyone else had done, you would have socked them in the mouth, but he’s like one-hundred-and-six or something and you kinda get it.
“The drinks you’re wearing ain’t enough, doll?”
A laugh breaks from your mouth and he lights up, grinning.
“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You can’t help the smile splitting your own lips. “Sure, make fun of the girl who just got hustled, easy prey.”
The way he looks at you is burning.
“I’m Bucky,” he says. “James Bucky Barnes.”
“I know,” you say with a laugh. When you give him your name, he almost looks like he wants to try it out, but he keeps it on his tongue like he’s tasting it instead.
“So, a drink?” he asks, a little cautiously.
“I’d like that.” Then, you look down and curse. “But I’m gross. I really need to go home and change.”
Bucky nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his face, there and then gone again, just enough to make your heart tighten into a painful brick weight atop your chest. Everything in your brain is saying no, don’t do it, don’t do it. But your heart hurts and it hurts for him, a man you’ve only met in news articles and awkward interviews until now, when he’s saved you from being slapped around by some creep or worse, and god, you have such a soft heart sometimes and it’s gotten you in trouble before but you can’t just ignore it.
“Do you like Bloody Marys?”
His eyes meet yours again and you’re drawn into the storm that swirls in his irises once again.
“Never had one,” he admits. “They don’t look much like a drink.”
“Well, if you’re interested, I have the stuff to make a really good one at home. And then I could change and clean up a little and still y’know, thank you for saving my life? I mean it’s not much, but—”
“Yes,” he says, his voice as sure and steady as it was earlier when he was in hero mode. “That sounds great.”
Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked.
The walk back to your apartment isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy. Bucky walks beside you like a forcefield, using his body to guide you through the throng of people walking along the streets without even touching you. He reminds you of a sheepdog. The thought almost makes you laugh more than a few times during your stroll.
He walks with his hands in his pockets most of the way, especially his metal one. And he isn’t much of a talker, not that you mind as long as he keeps answering the questions you’re asking him, like what kind of food he likes and what he thinks about sphynx cats and if he likes memes—of which his answers consist of anything, what the hell is that and why is it naked, and a resounding yes.
Bucky asks some of his own questions, though they are few and far between and a lot more cohesive and meaningful than your own. He asks about how long you’ve lived in Washington D.C., about what you do for a living, and about your friends.
“Why did they leave you there?” He’s staring at you when he asks, brows sharp and furrowed.
“Because I told them to,” you answer. “I didn’t want them to get hurt or anything. And I’m kind of the person that if I’m yelling, you better listen ‘cause I’m usually yelling for a good reason.”
He nods like he understands, but his lips are pressed flat. “They shouldn’t have left you.”
You shrug. “I wanted them to. I would’ve been more pissed if they hadn’t run off and gotten tangled up in the middle of everything.”
“You’re a good person,” he says, still looking at you. His face is softer, that hint of a curve in his mouth the only sign that anything’s changed.
You give him your own smile. “Maybe.”
It’s only once you get to the front door of your apartment that things shift and your stomach rolls, heavy and fluttering light all at once, a not-so-familiar-anymore anxiety chilling your skin. The keys in your hand jingle and you aren’t sure if it's because your fingers are shaking or not.
“It’s not much,” you say, beckoning him inside, “but y’know, it’s enough for me.”
Bucky steps through the door with a reverence, a caution, a carefulness that strikes you right in the heart. He looks out of place for a minute, like he’s never entered an apartment before. And then, as you kick off your shoes, losing the extra inch of height, smiling and gesturing for him to do the same, there’s something in him that snaps and bends and his shoulders fall, relaxed.
He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door, and suddenly there’s a different air in the apartment. Almost intimate. Comfortable.
Stop it. You don’t even know him.
“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A glass of water or something?”
Bucky shakes his head as he follows behind you, slowly, his eyes roaming over your space. It’s really not much, you know that. A little more than a box with a bathroom and a bedroom attached, what with the living room and the kitchen being “open-concept,” a word you’re pretty sure was invented to sell tiny apartments for more money. You don’t even have a table to sit at—just a couch to plunk down on while you’re eating.
“I’m alright, doll,” he says, running a hand over the soft cushions of said couch. “You go change, I’m fine.”
As soon as you disappear into your bedroom, the door locked behind you, you lean against the wood and let out a sigh. This is awkward. What the fuck were you thinking? Asking an Avenger—Bucky Barnes—back to your apartment for a drink? A bloody mary? Who are you trying to kid?
It’s been years, literal years since you’ve invited anyone back to your apartment. In fact, you don’t think anyone besides your friends has even stepped foot inside. Maybe they haven’t even made it to the door.
Why would you invite him here?
In frustration, you strip your dirty shirt off and throw it onto the floor, shimmy-ing out of your skirt and kicking it toward the hamper just as well. You sort through your drawers, looking for something comfortable to throw on. Or maybe you should wear something nice? Something that looks similar to what you wore to brunch. But Bucky’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. But he also looks like a modern god in just that.
Fuck. You are fucked. Why did you ask him back to your place for a drink? What did you think would happen?
You throw an old band t-shirt over your head and pull a black pair of loose shorts up over your hips, cursing when you realize they don’t even hit mid-thigh. Does that seem suggestive? Is Bucky going to think you want to fuck him if you walk out in these?
Do you want to fuck Bucky?
No. No. This is not what this is about. You invited him over because you owed him a drink and because you needed to change and because he seemed so damn sad when you said you couldn’t go out for a drink. So you asked him to come home with you. Oh, god, that’s so complicated. What have you gotten yourself into?
Stop. Just stop thinking.
But—you have to admit it to yourself—you want it. You want him.
Your friends’ earlier words repeat in your head. A human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment. They aren’t wrong for thinking that it’s something you want. For most of your life, you’ve lived thinking that you shouldn’t need someone. But isn’t it okay to want someone? You’re tired of being alone. Bucky Barnes is the first man that’s been in your empty apartment since you moved in, and maybe it’s a bold move, but you know what?
You throw yourself out of your bedroom, probably looking a little too frazzled, and you quickly comb your fingers through your hair as nonchalantly as possible to fix the flyaways. Bucky’s sitting on your couch, looking lonely, his hands rigid on his spread knees.
He looks like he fits there, on your sofa, in your empty apartment.
“Look,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. When he looks at you, his eyes sweep over your body like he’s never seen a woman before; shy, timid, a little nervous, but there’s something else there. It’s the same thing that’s heating your insides right now.
“I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”
Bucky’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then a cocky grin is curling his lips up, his face brightening the entire apartment. You don’t know if your body is warm because you’re embarrassed at your own daring or because Bucky Barnes is so beautiful it’s criminal, but you know that there’s static and stretch in your limbs and desire pooling in your belly. Liquor and lust are chasing away whatever fears you had before.
“Really?” he asks, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that reminds you of what a fucking flirt he is, or that he can be, and you think butterflies might be taking up residence in your tummy.
“Really,” you mimic, wearing your own charmed smile. Bucky lets his head fall to the side as he looks over you, then crooks one metal finger at you, beckoning you to join him on the couch. With as much confidence as you can muster, you stride toward him, putting a little swing in your steps. Maybe you look crazy doing it, but it’s enough that his eyes flicker down to watch your hips, and it sends a thrill through you.
“This isn’t like me,” you tell him as you sink down beside him, as close as possible while still giving him space to bolt if he needs to. “I don’t invite strangers over to my house like this.”
He smiles and it’s warm and big and easy. “I’m glad you did,” he says.
God, his eyes are pretty. “Me too.”
With Bucky’s thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to one of your bare knees, knuckles brushing your skin every time he shifts, you’re melting into his touch and you don’t care. It’s intoxicating—not the alcohol, which you swear should be wearing off by now, but him.
“I don’t do this often,” you say again, like you need to defend your bold behavior.
“Does that mean I’m special?”
“I think so,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear being this close.
Kinder than you thought possible, somehow simultaneously suave but still a little nervous, and yet authentic to a fault, Bucky Barnes is a thousand and one contradictions. Nothing like you ever thought he’d be. And maybe that’s what gives you the courage, the thought that someone so hardened could be so soft. That someone who looks like him, chiseled and striking and like a charcoal sketching on stark paper, could turn red at your innuendos and your charmed quips. That there’s a chance he could be attracted to you.
This—This is the connection you’ve been waiting for. The person who makes you feel like this. Tipsy when you shouldn’t be tipsy anymore.
“I know we barely know each other, but I really, really want you, Bucky.”
Your shoulder is pressed to his shoulder, your chest nearing his chest, your chin tipped up to stare at his eyes, his nose, his parted lips. Bucky stares down at you, his Adam’s apple dipping and bobbing as he swallows hard. Your lips curl, threatening to giggle. He’s so damn cute. How can someone like him, an Avenger, a super soldier, look so cute?
But the hand at your knee finally creeps up your skin, his hot palm glossing over your bare thigh, resting a little higher than a friendly touch would go. He presses indents—not too hard, but not too soft—into your plush, silken flesh.
“You do?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lip and you want to follow it back into his mouth with your own.
To answer, you push closer, your hand coming up to drape across his neck, a little off-balance as you sit up on your knees.
“Mhm,” you hum, and that’s all he needs to grasp your thigh roughly and drag you over him, seating you upon his lap as a squeak of surprise flies from your lips. His hands fall to your hips as if your body was made for him to hold and suddenly you’re looking down at him and he’s looking up at you instead, and god, he’s staring at you like you’re heaven and earth and everything he ever needed to be saved.
“I want you too,” he says, exhaling as if you’ve stolen all the air in his lungs.
“Then will you finally kiss me?” Your nose brushes his and his breath ghosts over your mouth.
Bucky’s lips surge up to meet yours, swallowing the last sounds of your words like it’s the first drink of water he’s had in years, cool and refreshing and tinged with smoke, something uniquely him.
As your hands thread through his short locks, desperate to hold onto him in any way, his fingers begin to curve over your ass. You rock into him, pressing against him harder, sucking at his plush lips as his tongue skims over your top lip until you grant him entry. Bucky kisses like he’s trying to taste every single part of you and it sends waves of pleasure through your belly and to your core, where you grind down until you feel his hardening length beneath you.
Immediately, you start to strip him of his hoodie, divesting him of that layer to feel the soft shirt beneath—but only barely because it’s hell trying to pull his hands away from where they’re touching you.
And he’s touching you everywhere. His fingers roam over every generous piece of your body. The silken planes of your thighs where he’s pushed your shorts up, the wide canyons of your hips, the bumpy hills of your waist where your stomach is too big and too soft and where he slips his mismatched hands under your shirt to trace the lines of your stretch marks. It isn’t long until he brushes by the band of your bra and then he’s tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to rid you of it.
You take the moment to rid him of his too, and then you’re both topless, still sitting atop his lap and panting from lack of air. No words are shared between you before Bucky is capturing your mouth again. It’s only passion, frenzied and hot and wanting.
His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra blindly as your teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping and giggling and tangling your tongue around his. As soon as you hear the snap, you lean back and Bucky pulls it off you, flinging the offending garment somewhere else in the apartment.
Now, with your naked chest completely bared to him, you wait for it to happen. For his eyes to dart away, for the apprehension to cross his features, for the disgust to set it. The real reason that it’s been so long since you’ve invited someone into your empty apartment—into your empty life.
Like you’re expecting the blow, you close your eyes and brace yourself, but you don’t cover up. You’ve learned not to cover up. You refuse to make yourself smaller, or prettier, or more tolerable for people. It’s why you don’t get entangled with one-night stands anymore, why you don’t ask strangers to come home with you, why you don’t let your girlfriends set you up with anyone. Because you refuse to make yourself something you’re not just to fit in, and that’s what always, always ends up happening.
Bucky touches you and it makes you flinch, his vibranium fingers a little chilly against the soft, warm skin of your stomach. He touches you and it’s electric, but you don’t open your eyes.
You’re too afraid to look and see the disappointment in his gorgeous blues.
His hands skim over your rib cage, sliding around the sides of your waist, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts. You shiver at the contact. He continues his trail upwards, but then he lays his palms on your shoulders and caresses over your neck, his fingers finally finding the edge of your soft jaw to cradle your face. A shaky breath leaves you.
“Look at me,” he whispers, closer than you thought.
And no matter how much you’ll berate yourself over it later, there is something so safe about Bucky Barnes that your lashes flutter and your eyes open, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, staring at you with those stormy sea eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust, his pink lips parted in awe, and you gasp at the intensity that strikes right through the center of you.
“You’re…” he trails off, swallowing nervously again. “Doll, I don’t think I know a word in English that describes you.”
Bucky presses forward, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, stealing your breath and then sealing your lips with a kiss that isn’t like before. This kiss isn’t needy or wanting or filled with teeth and tongue and desperation. This time, his mouth moves with yours as if he’s trying to spell out a thousand words in twenty different languages to tell you how he feels, his lips leading yours in a dance that isn’t worried about an audience or the music or if you step on his toes.
When he pulls away, you wonder if your mouth is as swollen as his.
“You’re perfect,” he says with a finality in his tone that almost makes you collapse into his arms.
Then, Bucky wastes no time and captures a nipple in between those swollen lips, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud noise in surprise. His metal hand finds your other breast, thumb stroking over the bud until you’re arching further into him. As his tongue traces patterns around one nipple, his fingers tweak and twist and pull its sister, and your hands grasp his broad shoulders in an attempt to hold on.
Finally, he presses gentle kisses over your rosy buds, all worn out by his touches, and then circles your breasts with more kitten licks and grazes of his teeth. Bucky’s hands settle at your hips again, fingers grasping your skin like he can’t get enough of the feel of you. He’s trying to imprint your body on his palms.
“I need to have you, doll,” he says all breathy as if he isn’t the one absolutely drenched right now. “Please. Please,” he asks so softly that you wonder if this is the man who even came to your rescue today, all tall and brooding. When you grind down on his lap again, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans as he lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your waist, you realize you’re not the only one feeling the tension.
Still, there’s something cheeky left in you and you reach out to swipe your finger across his nose, effectively booping it cutely. A grin splits your lips.
“You need me?” you ask teasingly. “What if I need you instead?”
It’s like it sets something ablaze in him or something, ‘cause as soon as you go in for another kiss, Bucky stands up from the couch, his hands cradling your ass as you shriek and wrap your legs around him in reflex.
“Oh my god—”
“Now you’ve done it,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck to pepper kisses all over the stretch of skin that encompasses your shoulder, your jawline, even up into your hairline by your ear.
“Oh my god, put me down Bucky, I’m—you’re gonna drop me, I’m too heavy!”
“Heavy?” He chuckles against your throat and the vibrations almost make you shudder in pleasure. God, what is this man doing to you? “Darlin’, I don’t think you know the meaning of heavy.”
Bucky flashes you a wide, almost predatory grin, and you wonder where that soft, nervous boy went.
“If I wanted to,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I could fuck you right here, in the middle of the room, for hours.” He must feel the shiver that goes through your entire body because he’s laughing again. “But I want to fuck you into your mattress if that’s okay. Can I do that?”
Your throat feels dry when you whisper, “Yes. Please.”
He punctuates your plea with a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue tasting the citrus and bubble from your mimosas, the alcohol long since worn off. It’s all him that you feel, all him that intoxicates you, and all him around you as he walks you into your bedroom, not even straining under your weight, and dumps you onto the middle of your sheets.
There, he cages you, hovering above you to kiss down your body, already intent on tearing your shorts off.
“Bucky,” you whine. In the afternoon light streaming through the single window in your room, his eyes are a startling color you wish you could name, all clear and confident and crystal and god, god, his fingers are already exploring the slit of your core so lightly it makes you flush and want to hide, your inner thighs sticky and coated in your own slick from how hot he’s made you with such simple touches.
“You want me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.
“Yes,” you hiss in pleasure, body writhing beneath him. Bucky leans down to kiss the shell of your ear, his tongue blazing a hot trail that makes you moan and buck your hips up to meet his, but he won’t have any of that.
“Good,” he says, “‘cause I need to have you, and I don’t plan on letting you go ‘till I’ve gotten everything you’ve got to give, doll.”
That nervous Bucky, all awkward smiles and panicked glances and sweet lines, he’s gone. In his place is this Bucky, assured and charming and suave and smooth and making your eyes roll back into your head until a scream is threatening to burst from your lips unless he swallows it with his own kiss, which he does, over and over again.
“I’m gonna ravage you, darlin’.”
You aren’t sure which one you like better—but is it greedy to say both?
As the light of a new day spreads through your apartment, you awaken easily, softly, but painfully. Someone’s pulled the blankets up to your chin and tucked them around you, and the thought leaves an empty feeling inside of you. When you stretch, every part of you burns deliciously, a memory from the hours spent in bed, on the couch, on the fucking counter after you’d eaten and he still wasn’t satisfied, and then again in bed.
And now, looking over at the space beside you, he’s gone. His clothes are gone from the floor. There’s no sound echoing in the building. He even left you tucked in, for god’s sake.
Your apartment is just as it always has been—empty.
With a groan, you kick the covers off and plant your feet on the floor, willing yourself to get up. The ache in your muscles is nothing more than a pleasant memory, an unpleasant reminder of the marks he left on you, his absence.
Stop it. You shouldn’t have even gotten attached to him in the first place. You knew what this was, and he did too, and it’s no wonder he’s gone this morning.
Get over it.
You swipe an oversized shirt from your dresser and throw it over your head as you stride out toward the kitchen, content to go pantyless for the day after the abuse you put it through last night. Yawning, your eyes screwed shut in another big stretch to warm up your overused muscles, you hear him before you see him.
Like that, your eyes snap open and he’s there, standing in your tiny kitchen in nothing but last night’s boxers, looking fucking glorious in the spotlight of the warm sun that’s streaming through the room and highlighting the counters.
“Bucky?” you ask, but it’s a little loud and a little shrieking, something you don’t intend. But all he does is smile at you, metal fingers tapping the plastic countertop, so at ease he just looks like he belongs there.
“I thought I’d make you breakfast but you have nothing in your fridge,” he jokes, leaning back against the drawers and crossing his arms over his bare chest.
You shift, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, I need to go shopping.”
A long stretch of silence fills your apartment and you’re unsure of what to say in order to break it. Bucky’s clearly watching you, drinking in the sight of your love-marked body, bruises peeking out of the hem of your shirt that barely skims past the tops of your thighs, and you remember you’re wearing nothing underneath.
And he’s here, right here, and you really aren’t sure why. It seems the two of you have almost switched places. Where Bucky was nervous and shy at first, he’s now confident and comfortable and you’re left with heated cheeks and a tongue-tied in knots. Whatever boldness that came over you all yesterday has fled.
It’s left a deep pocket of insecurity inside of you.
“Why are you still here?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, like you don’t care, but your voice shakes a little. He’s too far away to really tell, but you think a flash of hurt passes over Bucky’s brow.
“‘Cause you still owe me a drink,” he says as if it's obvious, a small smile still sitting so prettily on his mouth.
You blink, a little confused, but shuffle closer. “Bloody Mary?”
“Yeah,” he says with a deep breath, his grin growing bigger the closer that you come toward him. “Will you still make me one?”
You nod, toes finally crossing into the kitchen, and then you and Bucky are staring at each other. There are scratches left like the bones of a graveyard on his arms, and you’re almost sure if he turned around they’d cover his neck and back just as well. Seeing those reddened marks, similar to the bruises he’s left on you, makes you relax your shoulders just a little.
“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your barely covered form.
“No,” you say, heading to the kitchen which is little more than a countertop, a stove, and a fridge. “But you can keep me company.”
So this is what happens in the morning after. Bucky leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a burning intensity that nearly matches last night’s, and you pull all the ingredients out and line them up next to two glasses and try not to falter under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re this fascinating thing he needs to study and it bothers you, but only in the best of ways.
“Do you always stare this hard at your dates?” A smile plays at your lips as you crack open the tomato juice.
He doesn’t look away. “No,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “Is this a date, doll?” There’s something in his voice that you can’t figure out, faintly hopeful, fairly confused. Vaguely surprised, even.
You shrug. “Maybe.” Especially after all of yesterday, you would hope he thought so.
But Bucky shakes his head. “No.”
That hurt more than you were expecting it to. Calling yourself his date had only been a joke meant to lighten the mood, ease him up a little, cure the tension swirling in the room. You guess you should have expected it, though. You owed him a drink—he didn’t owe you a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, anyway.
All you had done was sleep together, for fuck’s sake. This is why you hate morning afters. This is why you would have preferred it if he had been gone when you woke.
But was that even true? Because the relief you felt when you found him waiting for you in the kitchen was immense and hard to understand.
You open the bottle of vodka a little more forcefully than you intended.
“When we go out on a real date,” he continues, and your eyes meet, “I’ll be taking you out and treating you.” A slow grin crawls over his face that reminds you of his wicked mouth and what it can do and the sight makes your heart beat and beat and beat, faster and faster, like the wings of a hummingbird, quick quick quick.
“When,” he affirms.
“That’s bold of you,” you say, popping ice cubes from a tray into the glasses.
“Maybe,” he says, “but I know what I want now.” Bucky shifts a little closer to you, his vibranium arm brushing by the bare skin of your soft one as you try and focus on not spilling the juice, but you can smell him and he smells like cedar and bergamot and smoke and clove. A smell that consumed you whole last night, surrounded you, drowned you in it.
He’s so close you can feel him inhale.
“I’ve lived a long time not knowing—not getting to decide—what I want,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and soothing your nervous heart. “So you can call it bold, but I call it right.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your hands still and you look up at him, eyes wide. In the soft white lights of your tiny kitchen, sharing the tight space with him so close, Bucky’s eyes are thunder and rain and lightning all at once, peace and chaos both, promising release and the sweet scent of earth and oil afterward.
“You don’t even know me,” you whisper.
Bucky leans closer. “But I want to.”
He’s so close, too close, close enough that he can surely hear the rhythm of your heart, unsteady and racing just for him. You could surge forward and kiss him, stake your claim once again on those pinkened lips that have held your attention from the first time you saw them, feel the stubble of his jaw rub against the soft peach fuzz of your own, let it remind you of how it felt against the apex of your thighs as he made you cry out over and over again, breaking on his tongue over and over again.
It makes you feel dizzier than any alcohol ever could.
But Bucky reaches over, past you, and takes one of the glasses from your hand, warm fingers brushing over your cooler ones. He holds it up, toward you, gesturing for a toast. With a swallow, hardly glancing away from his slate eyes to grab the other glass, you tap your Bloody Mary against his with a soft clink.
He watches you over the rim as he takes his first sip and you think he might be smirking. Then, he darts toward you and takes your lips in his own, tasting of spice and tomato juice and perfection, all Bucky, all for you.
When he pulls away, too quickly, he rests his forehead against your and looks down at you, staring into your hazy eyes.
“Will you let me stay?” he asks, like he doesn’t know what you’ll say. The soft, nervous Bucky is peeking out from behind his confident visage once again, his voice hopeful and frightened and the hand that’s gliding beneath your shirt and over your waist more timid than it was last night.
There’s a million things you can say. You can tell him to take you out to brunch instead. You can tell him you’re too busy. You can tell him that this was a one-night stand, it was only ever meant to be a one night stand, and that it was fun but you can’t afford to get attached to him and god, you know you’re going to get attached to him if he stays and that scares the ever-living fuck out of you. You can tell him that it’s messy here, inside your empty apartment, inside your empty heart. You can tell him that he could take up residence here. You can tell him so, so many things.
“Yes,” you say instead, and Bucky laughs against your mouth when he kisses you hard once more.
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Prompt: Either out of embarrassment or being a little shit, Jaskier lies outrageously to Geralt about humans (on the level of “I’m molting” or “These? They’re rocks, to snack on.”) and might get away with it?
Hi Dahliavandare! I always love seeing you in my inbox. I changed this just a *teeny* bit. WARNING: VERY SLIGHTLY HORNY (it’s Jaskier, duh) There is also a little bit of angst because Jaskier gets sick.
“Jaskier,” Geralt growled.
“What?” The young bard yelped. “I wasn’t even singing that time.”
“No, you just--hmmm.”
“I just hmmm what?” Jaskier asked, pausing in his near-constant strumming.
“You smell like...hmm.”
“I smell?” Jaskier said, both hands planted on his hips. “That’s pretty rich coming from you, my friend--”
“You smell like a barn. Anyway-”
“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, running one, gloved hand through his hair. “Witchers can sort of smell emotions, right?”
Jaskier looked up at him, a sudden hint of anxiety in his scent. “I thought that was a myth.”
“Not entirely.” Geralt shook his head as if clearing a thought from it. “We can’t smell complex things, but joy, fear, anger...desire.”
Jaskier, for once, didn’t look at Geralt, studying instead the flowers at the side of the road. “Desire?”
“I-yes.” Geralt said. “And I wanted to know if all humans smell like...”
“Desire?” Jaskier said, then began talking fast. “Oh yes, of course, most humans, especially my age, well, they smell like this all the time. All the time. Naturally.”
It sort of checked out, at least to Geralt’s thinking. Young humans were horny, and although the overriding scent when Geralt was around was fear, he remembered being a teenager, with all the baggage that entailed at Kaer Morhen, and yes, constantly horny was among those memories. Jaskier himself was definitely still young by human standards, perhaps twenty or so from his youthful features.
Geralt chalked the horniness up to humanity and hormones and left it at that.
Later on, Geralt had other questions related to humanity, more specifically that part of humanity that included Jaskier.
“I thought humans couldn’t eat those?” Geralt couldn’t, he’d eaten one during training on a dare and spent the next day with his head in the privy.
Jaskier looked down at the mushroom in his hand. It was a beautiful, bright red, with little white spots. He’d been snacking on similar ones for the last mile or so.
“Of course we can,” he said. “Humans eat these all the time.” There was a rising tone in his voice that indicated something, but as Geralt had mentioned before, witchers couldn’t actually smell the more complicated emotions.
“They, um,” Jaskier said. “They just can’t be eaten by humans during-er- during summer. It’s fall now, so it’s okay.”
Geralt shrugged. What did he know of human biology? He wouldn’t be eating another of them ever, at any time. His stomach lurched a little just at the thought.
“You didn’t buy the ring.”
Jaskier looked up at Geralt, eyes bright in the sunshine. The bustle of the market around them pushed against him like a tide, but a little patch of space was left around Geralt. Jaskier stepped into the space. “The ring?”
“You liked it,” Geralt grunted. “I could tell.” It had been a little thing, cheaply made of poor materials, but the bard’s eyes had lit up upon seeing the little buttercup detailing, and he’d admired for several minutes, although without touching.
Jaskier shrugged. “It was made of iron.”
“Human’s can’t wear iron, Geralt.”
“Then why did the man sell it?”
“Well some humans can wear it of course, those with very tough skin, but I’m delicate.” Jaskier sniffed.
“Humans...can’t wear iron?” It didn’t sound right.
“Not right up close to their skin,” Jaskier said. “It turns us, um, purple.”
Geralt shrugged it off. He’d once been called to a castle where a baron had believed himself cursed because his finger was turning green, but he’d simply been wearing a cheap brass ring.
After the first winter they met again in the spring something was definitely different.
“Your freckles,” Geralt said.
“What about them?” Jaskier said, looking away.
What about them indeed. They glimmered like chips of mica. At first Geralt had thought it a trick of the light, but no, there was a definite glitter to Jaskier’s skin.
Jaskier cocked his head at Geralt, cheeks shimmering. “Geralt,” he said slowly. “You know humans shimmer in the spring...right?”
“I’d never noticed,” Geralt said. Admittedly he paid a little more attention to Jaskier than perhaps he ought, but still, one would think he’d have seen this before.
“It’s part of the growing process,” Jaskier said.
“Jaskier, your cheeks are red,” Geralt said, stepping out of the small bathtub the inkeeper had brought up. He stepped closer to the bard, still naked and dripping water, and pressed the back of his hand to Jaskier’s forehead.
“Nnhgh,” Jaskier said.
“Are you well?” Geralt asked, cupping Jaskier’s flushed face with his other hand. It didn’t feel like he had a fever.
Jaskier pushed his hands away, face even redder than before.
“I’m perfectly fine, Geralt,” he said, higher pitched than usual. “Human faces get red for no reason now...put on some pants.”
“Jaskier you’re drunk,” Geralt said. It was a pretty obvious statement, considering he had his bard draped over him like a shawl.
“Hehe, yep,” Jaskier said, reaching up with one, long finger and tracing Geralt’s jawline with it.
“You didn’t have any alcohol, I’m sure of it.” Jaskier normally had an extremely high alcohol tolerance in any case.
“‘O course not,” Jaskier said, leaning even more fully into Geralt’s hold. “Had milk.”
“Milk can’t get people drunk.”
“Milk can’t get witchers drunk,” Jaskier slurred. “Get’s humans drunk though, dunnit?”
“Yeah, definitely, not the kids, but like, how often do you see, like adult humans drinkin’ milk?”
Not often, Geralt thought. He put Jaskier to bed in the inn and it was like pouring an octopus into a bucket. One loose yet gripping arm pulled Geralt closer to Jaskier, the bard leaned in and brushed soft lips to Geralt’s cheekbone.
Geralt wondered if it was another mystery of humans that the spot seemed to tingle all night and he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
Geralt clutched Jaskier as the bard fell to his knees, groaning. His face was sickly in it’s palor and he was trembling. He’d just lurched up from the table at the inn and stumbled to the door. Geralt had followed him and the young bard had just collapsed like this.
“Jaskier,” he said, clutching a chilled cheek, his other hand seeking one of Jaskier’s. “Jaskier what’s wrong.”
“Lemon,” Jaskier whispered, lacing shaking finger’s with Geralt’s. “In the fish, there was lemon.”
“Lemon’s fine, isn’t it?” Geralt asked, slow heart racing as he looked into eyes that were becoming glassy and clouded.
Jaskier shook his head and it seemed to exhaust him.
“’S fine for humans.” He said. “Not fae.”
“Fae,” Geralt said, cradling his friend. “Jaskier you’re not making sense.”
“Mmh,” Jaskier said, smiling sadly. His face changed, his eyes going glow bright and his ears lengthening a little. His skin took on a slightly green tint.
Geralt looked into the face of his fae bard, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone and the shimmering freckles there. “How do I heal you, you have to tell me.”
Jaskier blinked slowly, eyes dimming further.
Geralt shook him, desperation taking over.
“Jaskier what heals a fairy?”
What heals a fairy? He’d learned that at some point hadn’t he? Long ago. They were rare, and most witchers never saw one in their whole lives but if you could help one they’d grant you one wish, not tricks.
“Jaskier,” Geralt rasped, throat feeling dry. Those beautiful eyes blinked at him, slowly.
“I...I think you have pretty eyes,” Geralt said. “And I like when they, um, match the skies.”
Jaskier blinked at him in confusion, brow wrinkling slightly.
“You look pretty in blue,” Geralt managed, inventing wildly. “And look pretty in green. You look lovely in about every shade in between.”
Some of the deathly palor was fading from Jaskier’s face now and Geralt sought more words. “I thought you were pretty that day you wore purple,” he said. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, idiot he was an idiot, nothing rhymes with purple.
“I like your spirit, your moxy, your...your yurple.”
Jaskier was indeed looking better now, and he was smiling.
“I like the way you talk to me, and how you’re always there,” Geralt whispered. “I like the way you hum to me when you help me brush my hair.”
Jaskier sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light.
“I like the way you give treats to Roach, um, and I like the way you smile,” Geralt gulped at the look on Jaskier’s face. “But most of all I like how much I love you, so I want you to promise to, uh, stay? For a while?”
“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier said, cupping his cheek. “That was bad.” Then he kissed him and Geralt’s brain went very very fuzzy.
A little later, in their room in the inn, where Geralt was finishing the fish and Jaskier was having stew avec no-lemon-at-all, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jaskier tilted his head thoughtfully as he chewed a piece of potato. “Well, at first I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” he said.
Geralt nodded. Fae were a feared and reverred group amongst humans, so caution was reasonable.
“Then it became a sort of game,” Jaskier said shrugging. “I couldn’t resist. So I left you little hints. I thought you’d figure it out for sure with the freckles or the milk.”
Geralt huffed a little sheepishly.
“I don’t care that you’re fae,” he said after a moment.
“I know,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t care that you’re an awful poet.”
“It worked, didn’t it.”
“It did, and now you get a wish, no tricks,” Jaskier held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise.”
Geralt thought for a moment. A wish from a fae was no small thing. It should be something powerful, something earth shattering and precious and rare.
“I wish you would kiss me again.”
Oop, here it is (after quite the wait, sorry about that) I’m actually so proud of this and it’s super sweet and fluffy.
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Injury Discovery Prompts pt. 1
Creators Involved: Dream (c!), GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap (c!), Karl Jacobs, Quackity, Wilbur Soot, Awesamdude
Warning(s): Mentions of injuries (obviously?)
Note(s): Maybe it’s just me, but I think the world needs more Sam content.
"_____, this is serious!"
As you stumble back to your house, your vision progressively gets hazier.
White spots dot your vision, but you can still make out the outline of your front door.
You push it open, but it doesn't budge.
"Key...key...", you mumble.
Your hand seems to move in slow motion as you reach for the key, but you can't seem to find it in your pocket.
You're finally able to locate and insert the key, and you manage to unlock the door.
The shower seems miles away, but you hop in and wash the blood off of your body.
Your arrow wound is still prominent on your left shoulder, and even though it burns as you wash it clean, you ignore it.
When you exit the shower, you lazily wrap your wound with white gauze and some bandages.
You slip one of your boyfriend's green hoodies over your body and pull on a pair of black sweats.
The front door slams, and you make your way to the front of your house to find Dream aggressively throwing his shoes off.
"You okay?", you ask him softly.
His expression immediately softens when he spots you.
"Just Sapnap pissing me off. Nothing to worry about.", he stands and gives you a hug.
When he pulls away, he gives you a weird look.
"What happened?", his lips are set in a thin line.
He doesn't look happy.
"What do you mean?", you raise an eyebrow at him.
He gently moves your sleeve into your vision, and it is stained dark red.
"Oh, just a skeleton that got a little close. I'm okay though.", you assure him, pulling out of his grip.
Before you can argue with him, he pulls the sweatshirt off, and you can tell he's upset with your lazy wrapping and cleaning job.
"I'm okay, let's go to bed.", you whine, your shoulder hurting with every touch.
"y/n, this is serious!", he scolds.
Taking you to the bathroom, he cleans and bandages the wound properly.
"I'm sorry.", you mumble when he's finished, helping him put the supplies away.
"Let me help next time instead of doing it yourself.", he mumbles back, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.
He helps you off of the counter, and he pulls you into bed with him.
You listen to him rant about Sapnap until his words start slurring.
"Goodnight, bubs.", you kiss the top of his head before falling asleep in his arms.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'll be out in a minute!", you yell at George as he bangs at the bathroom door.
As you rummage for your toothpaste, you find a tube of burn cream?
"George!", you yell, getting his attention.
You twist the lock on the door, pulling it open to find George standing just outside.
"What is this?", you shove the tube into his hands, staring expectantly at him.
"It says burn cream.", his blatant answer makes you groan.
"And why is it in our bathroom?", you prompt him.
He rotates his hand to show a long, pink burn mark.
"What did you do?", you practically yell.
"When we were baking cookies the other day, the pan burned me.", he says it so nonchalantly that it makes you want to scream.
"Why didn't you tell me?", you ask him gently, taking his hand in yours to look at the scar.
"I didn't want to worry you...", he drops his head.
"I could've helped. You shouldn't have to hide this from me.", you run your thumb over the mark.
He pulls his arm close to him, pulling you into his arms.
"I know.", he kisses you, squeezing your hand.
"Besides, cookies aren't worth you getting you hurt.", you joke.
"They were good cookies though."
"Who did this to you?"
As you sit on the porch waiting for Sapnap to return, you finally spot his outline getting closer to the house.
He's not walking right.
"Hey, baby.", he grins at you, but it's not as bright as normal.
"What happened? Who did this to you?", you rush inside to grab some bandages and a towel.
"Tommy was being a little bitch, so I had to do something about him.", he shrugs.
"One of these times you're not going to make it home.", you mumble as you begin to tend to his wound.
"I won't do that to you. Besides, I'm a good fighter.", he puffs his chest out and kisses his biceps.
You can only roll your eyes and laugh at him.
Wrapping a white roll of bandages around his leg, you secure them before sitting on the bench next to him.
He lifts his arm around your shoulder, and you lean into his touch.
"You've got to be more careful.", you whisper as you intertwine your fingers with his.
"I will for you."
"You told me you were okay. You promised!"
"Karl! Where's the hammer?", you yell at him from the other room.
"I have it. You need it?", he yells back.
In your attempt to get down off of the ladder, you miss a step and fall the rest of the way.
When you land, a shooting pain starts firing through your ankle.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay?", Karl rushes in, hearing the thud through the wall.
"Yeah, but why did I agree to help you put these shelves up?", you laugh as you sit up.
"Because you're my favorite person in the whole wide world.", he kisses your nose.
"I know.", you joke back.
"You promise you're okay? That was loud.", he raises an eyebrow at you.
"I'm okay. Just go get me the hammer.", you laugh.
He leaves again, and you navigate to your feet.
You can't quite put full pressure on your ankle, and you realize that you messed up your ankle worse than you thought.
"Here. I got the hammer for you.", Karl returns.
"Thank you.", you try to hide your limp as you take it from him, but it's more obvious than you thought.
"W-why are you limping?", Karl furrows his eyebrows at you.
"I, uh, think I might've hurt my ankle when I fell.", you admit, looking down at your foot.
"You told me you were okay. You promised!", he exclaims, bending down to examine your ankle.
"I think I just twisted it. It's okay, I just need to ice it.", you assure him.
"Well, you need to lay down. I'll get the ice.", Karl stands up, but hunches over.
"What are you doing?", you laugh at him.
"Get on my back.", he says it like it's obvious.
You manage to clamber onto his back, and he deposits you on your shared bed.
"I'll go get ice, and then we'll cuddle and I'll kiss it better. Sound good?", he leans close, his face hovering in front of yours.
"Sounds good.", you close the distance and kiss him, laughing as he races to collect ice for your ankle so the two of you can cuddle.
"Why did you lie to me?"
You should’ve known that letting your boyfriend do a cooking stream would’ve been a bad idea.
Somehow, he had assured you that he knew what he was doing and that you had nothing to worry about.
Oh how wrong he was.
Cut to now while you’re watching your boyfriend fling a knife around in the air while he talks.
“You’re going to hurt yourself or me, and I don’t want to find out who.”, you warn him as you catch his arm.
“I’m a professional chef; I think I know how to handle a knife in the kitchen, y/n.”, he scoffs, picking up a carrot.
“Can I cut that please?”, you ask him.
“I’ve got it, okay?”, he sounds a little annoyed, so you step back and let him.
“Just don’t hurt yourself, please.”, you sigh.
Chat starts flying as he begins cutting the carrot.
He turns to look at you before quickly turning back to look at the cutting board.
“Did you just cut yourself?”, you ask him as chat multiplies in speed.
“No.”, he mumbles.
You take a step forward to peek over his shoulder, and you can see a red puddle on the cutting board.
“Why did you lie to me?”, you can’t help but feel a little upset.
“Chat, we’re gonna go take care of this. I’ll see you guys next time.”, he ends his stream and finally meets your gaze.
“Because I feel so useless that I don’t know how to cook. I don’t even know how to cut a fucking carrot right.”, he laughs, but you can tell he’s trying to cover his real feelings.
“You’re not useless. Besides, I like cooking for us.”, you assure him.
You help him clean and cover the cut before sitting down on the couch together.
“I love you, Alex. And you not being able to cook isn’t going to change that.”, you promise him as you give him a kiss.
“I love you too. But what are we going to do about the food? I’m hungry.”, his comment makes you both smile.
"How long have you been covering this?"
“Finally.”, you laugh as Wilbur climbs into bed next to you.
“Oh shut up.”, he mumbles, covering himself with the blankets scattered on your bed.
“You need to sleep earlier.”, you whisper as you scoot closer.
He pulls you into his chest, still having you face him.
His long arms wrap around you, and you can’t help but smile.
“Tommy needed help with the video we shot the other day.”, his chest rumbles as he tells you his excuse for this time.
“Tommy can ask you in the morning.”, you reply, tilting your head up to try to look at him.
“What’s that?”, you bring your left hand up and press it against his cheek.
Your thumb lightly grazes a Band-Aid on his jawline.
“Oh, it’s just a little cut I got when I was shaving.”, he dismisses your worry.
“How long have you been covering this?”, you whisper.
“It happened yesterday, darling. I’m okay.”, he promises, tilting his head down and kissing your forehead.
“You should take the Band-Aid off and let it air out.”, you advise.
“I will in the morning. You have all my attention right now.”, he mutters, taking the hand on his face in his own hand.
“Love you, klutz.”, you tease him.
“I love you too, y/n.”
"You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?"
“Sam! Your mom dropped off cookies!”, you yell as you set the wrapped plate on the kitchen counter.
It was a nice, hot day, but you couldn’t pass up a warm cookie from his mom.
“Aww, that’s sweet. She left already?”, he asks you as he enters the kitchen.
You hand him a cookie before taking one for yourself.
“Yeah. She has other people to deliver to.”, you laugh at his smile.
You hop up to sit on the counter, Sam standing between your legs, facing away from you.
His back is flush against your chest, and you rest your head on his shoulder.
“We should go to the pool later.”, Sam proposes.
“It’s too hot outside.”, you groan, Sam’s body shaking as he laughs.
You lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, but he catches your left leg in his hand.
“What did you do!”, he practically yells.
A giant green and yellow bruise covers the back of your calf.
“Honestly, I don’t remember. It’s been there for a while. Besides, it’s not even that bad.”, you shrug off his concern.
"You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?", he turns around to make eye contact with you, gently holding up your leg.
“It’s just a bruise, Sam. It’s okay.”, you jokingly pat his head.
“y/n, you need to be careful. That looks awful.”, he grimaces as he looks at the discoloration.
“But how else will I get my favorite nurse to take care of me?”, you tease, leaning forward to give him a reassuring kiss.
“Ask.”, he deadpans.
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please can i have 22 for the pining prompts 🥺 /witcher-and-his-bard <333333
22. Disguising pining with heavy flirtation (with others)
thanks for the prompt, alex! making me write flirting was terribly cruel! ):<
Jaskier leans across the counter, fluttering his lashes at the barmaid. “What are your plans later on?”
She scowls at him and scrubs the bartop with more vigor. “I’m busy.”
Jaskier puts a hand over his chest. “A travesty. True beauty like yours is hard to come by, my dear.”
There’s a growling behind him, and then Geralt is fisting a hand in the back of Jaskier’s doublet. The touch is electrifying, sending a shiver up his back from where Geralt’s finger brushes against his skin. “Leave her alone, Jaskier.”
She looks up at Geralt with doe eyes, and Jaskier pouts. He’d barely said two sentences; he was backing off without Geralt having to come and play the shining white knight. Jaskier wonders if he looks that completely hopeless when he looks at Geralt.
He shudders. He hopes not.
He yanks away from Geralt’s and turns to the steps to climb up to their shared room, facing another night alone.
In the next city they come to, Jaskier tries his luck again. Geralt sent him to get his sword sharpened, and Jaskier had squinted at him in confusion, because doesn’t Geralt do that himself?
Geralt had shooed him away with something about honing instead of sharpening; Jaskier always tunes him out as soon as he takes on that dry tone that means he’s about to give Jaskier a lecture. Jaskier can think of better uses of his time, like admiring Geralt’s forearms, just for starters.
Jaskier hands the swords over to the blacksmith, and he takes them over to his grindstone. Jaskier watches in interest as he tilts the blade this way and that, pumping with his foot to make the stone turn. The man has thick fingers that look plenty skilled and Jaskier gulps as he wonders what they might feel like inside of him, around him. He doesn’t think about the times he’s had those same thoughts about Geralt.
He’s sure if he just ignores them, they’ll go away. That’s how feelings work, right?
He subtly unlaces a few strings at the top of his doublet, putting on his most dashing grin when the smith is finally finished with Geralt’s sword.
“Nice craftsmanship, here,” the man grunts.
“It’s a witcher’s sword,” Jaskier confides, and when the man lights up in interest instead of disgust, Jaskier feels drawn a little closer.
He is quite handsome.
“Really? Where did you get it?”
Jaskier laughs. “From a witcher, of course. He’s my travelling companion.”
The smith draws back from him. “Oh, of course. My apologies; please pass along my compliments to him.”
Jaskier looks down at himself idly, wondering if not enough chest hair is on display. He’s certain he picked up on a whiff of interest when he came into the shop.
“Now that I think about it, I saw you two come into town earlier, didn’t I? You were riding on the horse.”
“Well, that’s just because one of my shoes had ripped, normally he makes me walk the entire way.”
The man quirks an eyebrow at him, clearly in disbelief. “Uh huh. He lifted you off the horse to help you down. That doesn’t exactly sound like the kind of guy who’s going to make you walk a hundred miles.”
Jaskier blows a hard breath through his nose, because this is just his luck, a complete stranger taking Geralt’s side over him. Geralt had only done that because Jaskier had griped so much about how stiff sitting in the saddle was making him. Jaskier grabs the sword off the counter, nearly cutting himself in the process. “Well, fine. Have a lovely day.”
The smith stares at him in bemusement as Jaskier leaves the shop in a huff.
When he gets back to the inn, Jaskier drops Geralt’s swords on the floor of their room in a clatter, making Geralt look up as he stomps back downstairs and stops in front of the first woman he sees. He’s so damn tired of Geralt monopolizing his thoughts when he’s not even there.
He actually makes some progress, this time, the woman receptive and giggling to what he says. He’s just dropped into the seat across from her, focusing his full attention on her as she tells him about a dog she’s seen about the village, when another man strolls up to the table with a pinched expression.
Jaskier flits his gaze back to the woman, who is now giggling nervously and sighs. Of course this is her husband. “Greetings, my good sir,” he cries, popping out of the chair.
“Why were you talking to my wife?” he growls.
“Oh, I was just getting her opinion on—”
He takes a threatening step towards Jaskier before Geralt appears at Jaskier’s shoulder, making him jump back and his heart race. “Gods, Geralt.”
“What’s the problem here?”
“He was trying to seduce my wife!”
Jaskier snorts, because the wife seemed a little more than receptive to him, but he keeps his mouth shut.
Geralt frowns, putting a large hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. It feels like a brand, sending a jolt of heat to his skin. “I certainly hope not. You wouldn’t do that, right, love?”
Jaskier nearly chokes on his own spit at Geralt’s use of the pet name.
“No, no, certainly not.”
“Good,” Geralt says pleasantly, but the thunderous look on his face is anything but. “Glad we cleared that up.”
He practically drags Jaskier away from the couple and back up the stairs. “I swear, I can’t leave you alone for two minutes.”
“Sorry,” he squeaks as Geralt pulls him dangerously close.
“Anything I could do to keep you out of trouble?”
Jaskier’s gaze flickers down to Geralt’s lips, gods damn him, and his breath catches when he looks back up to see Geralt looking at his.
“I can think of one thing,” he ventures.
Geralt hums. “Yeah?”
Jaskier takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before he grips Geralt’s shirt, and yanks Geralt towards him, crushing their lips together. Geralt kisses him like he’s been just waiting for Jaskier to make the first move, and Jaskier wonders how much time he’s wasted. When he finally pulls back, he’s panting. He smooths his thumb over Geralt’s cheekbone. “Yeah.”
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gotta have you, all of you.
[disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this this blog. for more information on this blog’s commitment to protecting minors, read eun’s full statement here.]
summary | when you finally give chris permission to take you in any way he wants, you’re in for a new world of experiences, along with a new mandatory title for your lover.
pairing | chris evans x reader
warnings | smut :’-): goes from 0 to 100 real quick!! (unprotected oops) s!ex, dominant chris, kinda innocent reader? not really but kinda?, daddy kink *shrugs* what’s new, fingering, anal fingering, degradation/mocking, praise!, forced/multiple orgasms, squirTing, overstim (begging to stop!!/crying but in a still-consenting way?? maybe?? idek), fluffy ending <3 cute silly and very in love
requested by @disappointmentofthefam and @indefiniteimagines | [screenshots of requests lost]
an | hi friends thank you for these requests! i am doubling up on a few since my inbox is super full and some just fit well together, hope that’s alright with you! ik i already used the “how many orgasms” prompt with ransom but i honestly have no problems using it again with chris lol. hope you sweet friends enjoy!! <3
“Mornin’, beautiful,” Chris murmurs as he walks through the open door of your shared master bathroom, his hair ruffled slightly from just getting out of bed. Wearing nothing but his boxers and a white t-shirt, his soft, domestic appearance gives you butterflies in your stomach as you can feel yourself beginning to blush.
“Mornin’,” you whisper back, spitting out the minty green toothpaste from your mouth before rinsing off your brush. Grabbing his own, Chris comes up beside you, planting a kiss on your forehead as he reaches for the toothpaste.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks, his voice still a little gravely from his slumber.
“Good,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s study waist as he begins scrubbing at his teeth. Through his briefs, you can’t help but notice the large bulge of his morning wood protruding from beneath the blue fabric, and your mouth practically begins to water. As subtly as you can, you trail the fingers of one of your hands down, brushing carefully over his huge length. A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he spits out his toothpaste and puts away his brush, his other hand coming down and grabbing at the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him.
“You want something, baby?” he asks, a dangerous look in his eyes. Looking you up and down, his cock throbs against your hand, the sight of you in just your tank top and undies driving him wild. “God, you’re so beautiful. The things I wanna do to you…”
“Then do them,” you say simply, your eyes full of innocence as he chuckles again, looking down at you and shaking his head.
“Look at you, such a sweet little face,” he coos, his hand coming around to cup your cheek. Rubbing his thumb gently across your skin, he tightens his grip slightly on your jaw, causing your eyes to widen. “You’re not ready for the things I have in mind, sweetheart. Maybe someday, when you’re older.” You roll your eyes at his joke, a faint pout forming on your lips.
Chris has been sending you subtle messages since the beginning of time that he’d like to take things further in the bedroom, though he’s always held off out of fear of breaking you. The two of you’ve had sex, and it’s been wonderful, but deep down inside you’ve always known that he leaves wanting more. At first, the thought of this frightened you, but as time’s gone on, you’ve warmed up to the idea of letting him take more control. And for whatever reason, this morning just seems like the perfect time as the two of you stand in your pj’s, embracing on the cold bathroom floor.
“I want it now,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. Chris raises an eyebrow at you, not used to you asserting what you want, especially not when it comes to something like this.
“You sure about that, pretty girl?” he asks, his thumb trailing to the corner of your mouth as he looks at you with insatiable hunger in his eyes. “Because I want all of you. Every inch of you, every last bit of you, I want to devour it; I want it all to be mine.”
“Then take it,” you say. And before you can even blink, he does, snatching you up by your waist and slamming your back down against the cold marble countertop. A whimper rises in your throat at the sudden shift of power, and as you look up at Chris, you see something wild go off in his eyes, his pupils as wide as saucers as he rips your top from your trembling form, exposing your breasts to the cold air.
“God, so fucking beautiful,” Chris groans as he draws a hand over your bare chest, his fingers pinching at one of your swollen nipples harshly. A weak cry escapes your lips as he brings his other hand up, kneading your tender flesh roughly as warmth spreads throughout your tummy. “Gonna show you just how bad I’ve been wanting you, sweetheart,” he almost grunts as his clothed member comes up and presses between your legs, your panties already soaked with your arousal. “Can’t wait any longer, sweet girl. Gotta have you, all of you,” his voice flutters as one of his hands trails down your stomach, beginning to stroke over the slick fabric between your legs. “Look at you, makin’ such a mess.” You jump as he smacks down lightly over your pussy, not used to the rougher contact. “Such a squirmy little thing,” he coos, and as filthy as his words are, you’re loving every syllable. “Gonna be a fuckin’ mess by the time I’m through with you.”
Chris’s strong hands grab the sides of your lace panties, sliding them off your legs fluidly before grabbing at your thighs, prying them apart and positioning his broad form between them. Leaning down slightly, he licks his lips as his hungry gaze falls over your slick folds. “So wet for me, sweetheart,” he hums, his thumb dipping into your pool of excitement. Your hands come up to cover your face in shame, but as soon as the slippery pad of his finger slides up over your sensitive bundle of nerves, you jolt up, only to be met by his other hand pressing down on your belly firmly to prevent you from moving. “Uh-uh,” he tuts, “hold still.” At an agonizingly slow pace, he circles his thumb over your throbbing clit, causing you to let out a pathetic whimper. “Poor thing, so sensitive,” he mocks, the hand on your belly sliding down and positioning itself at your entrance. “How many times d’you think I can make you cum just from my hands, pretty girl? Hmm?” he inquires, startling you by ramming a finger into your aching sex without warning.
You cry out in pain and pleasure, your head falling back as Chris works his magic with his fingers. His thumb stroking your clit just right, working your slippery mess into the burning underside of the tip of the nub, the way he knows you like it best. His finger inside of you curls up to brush against your sweet spot, and before you know it, you’re on the edge of your first climax. “Chris, please-!” you pant, desperate for release.
“‘Please’ what?” he spits, wanting to make you work for it.
“Please, gonna- please!” you cry.
“You gonna cum for me, dollface? Gonna cum all over my fingers like a good little slut?”
“Yes! Please, yes!” you sob, tears building in your eyes as your stomach tightens from his demoralizing words.
“‘Yes’ what, sweetheart?” he tests.
Your voice catches as you realize what he wants, and you’re more than eager to give him all of it and more as you cry out, “Yes, Daddy!”
“Good,” he grunts, slamming into you harder than ever before. “Now cum for me.” A strained scream leaves your throat as you tighten around his finger, your whole body snapping violently as heat spreads across you like wildfire. “That’s it, there we go,” he praises, loving the sight of you completely falling apart underneath him. “Goood girl,” he soothes as your orgasm finally ceases, his thumb slowing to a stop over your exposed nub. “So good for me,” he sighs, pumping his drenched finger in a few times before stretching to add a second.
“N-no, wait,” you mumble, head still foggy from your overwhelming climax.
“Shhhh,” he shushes, the filthy sounds of his fingers pumping through your juices filling the room. “Let Daddy take care of you, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna show you everything you’ve been missing.” Gradually, the pace of his thrusts picks up once more, his thumb eventually resuming its assault on your swollen clit. A second wave of pleasure bubbles up inside you before you know it, and Chris can’t keep from grinning as you squirt messily with a shameful cry, completely drenching his hands. “Fuck, look at that, babydoll,” he marvels, a few more spurts of your orgasm dripping onto him as he rubs your clit and g-spot lovingly. “Squirtin’ so hard for Daddy, fuck. Just like that.”
As you wind down from your excruciating high, Chris pulls his hands away from you, sucking your sweet arousal off his fingers like a starved man. Once he’s finished, he grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off over his hand, ripping his boxers off immediately after as if he can’t wait another moment to get inside of you and take what’s rightfully his. Sprawled out on your back, you mumble lightly, your words incoherent as you struggle to calm your body down. Pumping his length a few times in his hands, Chris lets his gaze fall back over you once more, the sight of you babbling off as you lie innocently in your own state of bliss making his heart pound heavily in his chest with want. Need.
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he coos as he gently helps you down from the counter, turning you and pressing your tummy down onto the surface that’s still warm from your presence. Leaning your head into your folded arms, you sigh blissfully, moaning softly in delight as Chris’s firm hands spread you apart, the tip of his cock dipping into your wetness. “You ready for me, babydoll?” he asks. You nod groggily, letting out a muffled sob as he forces himself into your aching heat. “Fuck. Takin’ me so well,” he praises as stretches you out, one of his hands coming up under you and finding your clit, the poor nub practically rubbed raw at this point. Hissing into your arm, tears sting at your eyes as Chris speeds up his thrusts, the overwhelming sense of him filling you up making you weak at the knees. “I want more, sweetheart. Want you to cum again, think you can do that for Daddy?” You nod, but it’s not enough to please him. “Use your words, little girl. You gonna cum for me?”
“Y-yes Daddy,” you whimper, blood rushing out from your core rapidly as your third orgasm rips through you like a knife. At the unfamiliar burning sensation settling through your entire pussy, you begin to cry pathetically as Chris continues to fuck you, his thrusts only increasing as he watches you sob.
“N-no more, no more,” you beg, not sure if you can take another minute of the harsh stimulation.
“Oh, I think we can get one more, sweetheart. Just one more,” he croons, spitting on his fingers and trailing them down to your puckered ass. You cry out in humiliation as he circles the rim of your virgin hole, murmuring, “Now be a good girl and take Daddy’s fingers, darlin’. Gonna fill up both your dirty little holes.” And before you can cry out or do anything to stop him, he rams two slick fingers up your tight opening, an indescribable fullness sinking into your bones as yet another orgasm is forced out of your quaking body. “Fuck. Just like that,” Chris grunts, his breathing becoming uneven as he reaches his own climax. “Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with cum, gonna make you mine. Fuck. Fuck, y/n. Fuck,” he curses, releasing his warm load into your aching core.
The next thing you know, Chris has pulled his cock and fingers out of you, your muffled cries filling the bathroom as he strokes down your hair, shushing you, “Shhh, y/n. It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I’m right here.” Helping you up from your slumped over position, he tries to help you stand, but soon realizes that you’re simply too exhausted to stand after such an intense experience. “Okay, bubba. Here. I gotcha,” he coos, gathering you in his arms and carrying you swiftly out of the bathroom, hurrying you over to your bed where he lays you down on your back, immediately dropping to his knees at your side. Your teary eyes rise up to meet his, your bottom lip wobbling in embarrassment as he looks you over, the genuine concern on his face melting your heart. “Are you okay, sweetheart? What’re all these tears for, are you hurt?”
“No, n-no, I’m fine,” you assure him, giggling softly through your tears as a look of relief settles on his face. “Just… tuckered out.”
“I bet,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear as he looks at you lovingly. “You did so well, pretty girl. Were such a good girl for me.”
“’Daddy,’ huh?” you tease, causing his cheeks to turn bright red.
“Watch it, cheeky,” he jokes, poking gently at your belly. “Don’t want a punishment already, do you?”
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I Choose You
Taehyung x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, crushes-to-lovers, kind of a soulmate!AU (it’s based on their scents), fluff, and smut
Warnings: Oral sex (Male and female receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, soft Dom!Taehyung, impregnation kink, and creampie
Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet! I hope you guys enjoy it!
Prompt: Every Spring Fest, the unmated Alphas had to choose a mate but when Taehyung felt a pull, he didn’t expect it to lead to you.
“Come on!” Taehyung whined loudly. “Just tell me!”
“You know that I cannot tell you who is participating in the Mating Ceremony Tae,” Jimin giggled. “It’s against pack rules.”
“Alright, well just give me a clue,” Taehyung tried to bargain. The two of them were sat outside in the territory that belonged to their pack, deciding to enjoy their lunch in the newly nice weather.
“You know, to be an Alpha, you have no sense of patience,” Jimin laughed.
“And for you to be an Omega, you have no sense of loyalty to your best friend,” Taehyung pouted.
“Oh God, he’s pulling out the pouts,” Jimin groaned playfully. “If you’re so impatient about not being able to know who’s participating in the Ceremony beforehand, then why are you even doing it?”
The Mating Ceremony was an age old tradition in Taehyung’s pack that occurred every year, right at the start of the Spring Festival. For people who still believed in soulmates, the Mating Ceremony was an unbiased opportunity for those people to find the one that their soul desired. The Omegas and Betas would gather together, with their faces hidden, and it was up to an Alpha to use only their sense of smell to find the scent that they liked the most.
Of course, a lot of people felt that scents weren’t the only important thing when it came to building the foundation of a relationship as time has passed but it was still an honored and revered tradition nonetheless.
“Besides the fact that literally everyone that I know has found their mate during the Ceremony?” Taehyung huffed. “The fact that I’m almost 26 years old and haven’t found my mate yet.”
“Oh please, you say that as if you’re old and if you’re old, then I’m old,” Jimin said as he rolled his eyes. “And I’m definitely not old.”
“Well, you say that because you’re not alone,” Taehyung pointed out. “My parents found each other 27 years ago, Yoongi hyung found you three years ago, Joon hyung found Aareum the year before that, and hell, even Jin hyung found Jungkookie last year. Too long, didn’t read, I’m gonna die alone if I don’t do it.”
“I feel so bad for your future mate because you are so fucking dramatic,” Jimin laughed as he reached over and stole a French fry off of Taehyung’s plate.
“You’d have time to warn them if you’d just tell me who’s joining this year,” Taehyung tried to persuade him. “Come on, what’s the point in having the Head Omega as your best friend if he doesn’t supply you with useful information?”
“Oh, and here I was thinking that I was your bestfriend because I’m your platonic soulmate,” Jimin scoffed. “Look Tae, the entire point of the Mating Ceremony is to let your heart and your nose do the deciding for you. If I tell you who’s participating and who’s not, it’ll cloud your judgement and then the whole thing will be moot.”
“Ugh, fine Mr. “I wanna be ethical”,” Taehyung sighed as he stood up from the table. “I gotta go and finish up my gift for the Ceremony so I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, Pouty Pants,” Jimin giggled as he waved his hand and Taehyung began to walk around the territory. He wasn’t lying when he said that he needed to go finish working on his courting gift, but he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to take a walk around the pack’s territory before he did.
Taehyung’s pack was pretty tight knit, though it was considered to be considerably larger than the other surrounding packs. Even though Taehyung’s family weren’t the ones who founded the pack, his great-great-grandfather was one of the first members to join the pack so Taehyung‘s family line literally had stakes in the very beginning of the pack.
Growing up, Taehyung had been pretty well known around the pack but after he presented as an Alpha, it was as if he were a celebrity. Every unmated Alpha, Beta, and Omega seemed to be after him and admittedly, he had enjoyed the attention for the last few years but now, he was ready to find his mate, settle down, and start a family.
Just as Taehyung walked around the corner that separated the school building and the doctor’s house, he collided with a figure that had literally rushed into him.
“Hey!” Taehyung yelped, gasping when the papers that the person had been holding fell down onto the ground.
“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, bending down and beginning to pick the papers up. Taehyung bent down as well, helping when he realized who you were.
“Y/N?” He called and you looked up at him, your eyes widening when you realize who he was.
“Oh Taehyung, I’m so sorry,” you apologized, bowing your head to him.
“No no no, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you. “Just let me help you with these.”
“I already ran into you, you don’t have to,” you tried to say but Taehyung just cut you off.
“I want to,” he chuckled and you just decided to let it go as the two of you finished picking up all of the fallen papers. Once you were both done, you stood up straight and Taehyung handed the small stack of papers that he had collected over to you.
“So, where were you off to that has you in such a rush?” Taehyung wondered with a smile.
“Well, uh, the start of Spring marks the halfway point in the second half of the schoolyear for the pups so I was in a rush to get their progress reports finished,” you explained and Taehyung couldn’t help but to smile at how shy you still seemed to be around him.
The two of you knew of each other from around the pack and you went to school together, being as though the two of you were born in the same year. Because of that, you both had a lot of mutual friends but the two of you never hung out much because you were really shy and seemed almost scared of Taehyung so he always made sure to give you your space.
“Ah, you do work in the school building,” he chuckled.
“With the seven to nine year olds,” you smiled.
“I remember, I remember,” he nodded. “Well, besides that, how are you?”
“Good, good,” you replied. “Busy as ever this time of year, but good. How about yourself?”
“I’m good, just preparing for the Spring Festival, ” he told her.
“Oh, are you doing the Mating Ceremony this year?” You asked and he nodded his head.
“I’ve never done it before and I don’t think I’ll start now,” you giggled. “It’s not really my thing.”
“What, finding your soulmate isn’t your thing?” Taehyung teased.
“No, I meant that not being picked by anyone wouldn’t be my thing,” you clarified.
“Oh please, somebody would definitely choose you,” Taehyung said. “I know that we don’t talk much but anyone can see that you’re a good woman and a great Omega. I bet that any Alpha would be proud to have you be their mate.”
“Oh,” you uttered in surprise, and Taehyung couldn’t help but to feel a little sense of pride at how flustered he had made you. “T-Thank you Taehyung.”
“You’re welcome,” he grinned.
“W-Well, I have to go,” you murmured. “See you around?”
“Yeah, see you,” Taehyung agreed but he didn’t know if you’d even heard him because you were already walking, almost running, away from him.
Even though the Spring Fest was being held during the first week of April, Taehyung had made the decision that he’d be participating back in December of the previous year and this was because he wanted to make sure he had enough time to prepare his courting gift. A courting gift would show his future mate that he was serious about them so it took Taehyung a lot of thought to decide what he wanted to give his future mate. In the end though, it was actually Taehyung’s mother who helped him.
He off-handedly mentioned that he was trying to figure out a gift and she ended up giving him his great-grandmother’s engagement ring. It was a ruby that sat on a nest of gold diamonds, with a gold band to accompany it. Taehyung was familiar with it because it was a family heirloom and he was so honored that his mother trusted him with it.
When the first day of the Spring Fest arrived, Taehyung made sure that the ring box was nestled safely in the pocket of his slacks before he checked his appearance in the mirror. Wanting to look his best, he settled on a button up dress shirt that was a deep maroon color and paired it with black slacks. He added a few simple accessories like a few rings on both hands and earrings but he skipped any necklaces or bracelets, wanting to makes sure that nothing would get in the way of someone being able to smell his scent.
“Let’s go find our mate,” Taehyung whispered to himself, making sure to fix his hair one last time before hurrying up and rushing out of the front door of his house.
The Mating Ceremony was to be held in the large flower garden that was towards the back of the pack’s territory. The logic behind it was that finding your soulmate amongst beautiful things would help your relationship with said soulmate be beautiful as well.
When Taehyung got there, he immediately spotted Jin and Jungkook sitting together on a bench so he walked over to them.
“Hi Tae hyung!” Jungkook greeted him happily.
“Hi,” Taehyung replied. “You guys came for moral support?”
“You know it,” Jin nodded. “You look really good Tae-ah.”
“Ready to find your soulmate?” Jungkook wondered.
“Thank you, and hopefully,” Taehyung sighed heavily. “I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t worry hyung, all you have to do is trust your nose,” Jungkook told him.
“Kook’s right, you know our senses will never purposefully lead us wrong,” Jin added.
“Thanks for the advice guys,” Taehyung chuckled, reaching out and ruffling Jungkook’s hair a little. Suddenly, a voice erupted over the loud speakers that had been placed around the garden.
“The Mating Ceremony is about to commence,” the voice that Taehyung recognized as Jimin announced. “If you are offering a gift, please get into position.”
“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung said.
“Relax and don’t worry,” Jin advised him. “Just...let it happen.”
“Ok,” Taehyung nodded before turning around and walking over to a large wall of white roses. Falling into line with several other Alphas and Betas who were also participating in the Ceremony, he waited with baited breath as another line of Omegas and Betas stepped into the garden and walked over to stand right in front of the wall of roses.
Every Omega or Beta had a veil or mask over their face so that they couldn’t be seen, and their own choice of outfit but most of them were dressed pretty formally, just like Taehyung was.
“Alphas and Betas who are presenting gifts, you know the rules,” Jimin spoke up again. “No sneaking a peek at anybody until you offer them your gift and they actually accept it, no trying to force your gift upon anyone who makes it clear that they do not want it, and trust your instincts! Happy finding!”
Taehyung then closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale in order to smell the air around him. He picked up a few scents here and there, with hints of chocolate and mint but none of them especially stuck out to them. He then opened his eyes and they slightly widened when he saw some of the Alphas and Betas already offering gifts to some of the Betas and Omegas who had been waiting. He had to admit, it kind of shocked him because it was seemingly so simple for them but not for him. Deciding to follow everyone’s advice and trust his senses, he shut his eyes again and took another deep breath it, and that was when he smelled it.
The initial wave that hit his nose was reminiscent of tangerines, and then that was mixed with the scent of berries that seemed to almost intermingle with the tangerine scent. Those were two very typical scents, especially for Omegas, but what really caught Taehyung’s attention was the scent of pink champagne. It was something that he had never smelt in a scent before and before he could even realize it, he was moving towards the source of the scent.
When he realized that he had stepped up to the person that the scent belonged to, he took a second to look over them. It seemed to be a woman, who had on a flowing white dress along with a small matching white veil. Taehyung reached out and extended his wrist towards their nose for them to be able to smell his scent clearly and when the woman let out an appreciative hum, Taehyung’s heart clenched because this was it. He had found the one.
Taehyung reached into his pocket and took out the ring box, extending it towards the woman. The woman then reached out and took the box from it, a soft giggle coming from her as she did so.
“Thank you,” the woman said and Taehyung’s eyes widened because he recognized the voice, he just couldn’t remember where from. When the woman reached up and lifted the veil back from her face, Taehyung wanted to kick himself for not immediately recognizing who the voice came from.
“Hi,” you smiled.
“I cannot believe that I didn’t know that it was you,” Taehyung huffed.
“Well, that’s kind of the point Taehyung,” you giggled from your spot on his bed. After the ceremony had ended, Taehyung invited you back to his house so that the two of you could have some alone time.
“I just didn’t expect this,” he said as he sat down next to you.
“Are you...upset that I’m your mate?” You asked wearily and Taehyung immediately shook his head.
“No!” He exclaimed. “Even though we don’t talk much, I know that you’re amazing. Hell, Jungkook raves about you all the time. I also meant what I said the other day.”
“W-Well, that’s good,” you replied shyly. “By the way, I’m sorry for not talking to you much over the years.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he shrugged. “I just figured that you were shy and I don’t mind that.”
“It wasn’t shyness, though,” you blurted and his eyebrows rose.
“The truth is, I’ve had a crush on you since you presented,” you confessed.
“Y/N, that was almost 10 years ago,” he gasped in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I never thought that I had a chance,” You chuckled. “For years, every unmated Omega and Beta and even some Alphas have been after you. When you look at them and then look at me, I’m not as interesting or as beautiful when compared to them. I don’t know, I just don’t think that I measure up.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Taehyung admonished you. “You’re gorgeous Y/N-ah, and the sweetest person I know.”
“Really?” You deadpanned.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. He could tell that you didn’t believe him though, so he decided to be honest. “You wanna know something?”
“I’ve had a crush on you too,” he admitted, making your eyes widen. “Not for as long as you have, but at least two years. I just never made a move because you seemed so shy around me and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable because I figured that you just weren’t interested.”
“Seriously?” You gasped and he nodded. “We’re a big pair of idiots then, huh?”
“Definitely,” he laughed as he reached over and grabbed both of your hands in his. “It’s a good thing that we both decided to participate in the Ceremony then, huh?”
“Another confession? I only joined because I was hoping that my Omega would be able to say to your Alpha what I’ve never been able to bring myself to say aloud,” you told him.
“And what is that?”
“That I want to be with you, Kim Taehyung,” you replied. Taehyung felt his Alpha preen at your confession and it wasn’t that Taehyung had doubted the validity of the Ceremony but actually being able to feel the connection between the two of you only solidified everything for him.
“I want to be with you too Y/N L/N,” he smiled. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” you giggled and Taehyung let go of your hands to set his hands on your cheeks, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss began soft at first, the both of you feeling a little nervous since this whole thing was so new.
It wasn’t until you laid back on the bed, pulling Taehyung down along with you that the two of you became more comfortable, you opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Taehyung set his hand on your thigh, gently tracing random shapes with his fingertips as you kissed each other passionately.
“Y/N, I have to ask you something,” he murmured and you pulled away from his lips to look up at him.
“What is it?”
“Are you a virgin?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immediately. “I’m not trying to be intrusive or anything, I just want to know so that I can gauge how comfortable you are.”
“Do you remember when I dated Xiumin?” You asked him and he rolled his eyes.
“That dickhead? Yeah,” he huffed.
“I lost my virginity to him.”
“Well, I can’t say that I’m in love with that piece of information,” he admitted.
“I only dated him because I was trying to get over you, which sounds really bad when I say it out loud,” you laughed. “That was around the same time that you were dating Jisoo.”
“Ah,” he said as he set his fingertips over your lips to silence you. “We don’t mention that forbidden name.”
“Ok, sorry,” you giggled.
“So, if I told you that I want to have sex with you tonight,” Taehyung began, making your lower half clench around nothing. “Would you want to?”
“Yes,” you rushed out. “I want to.”
“Good, because I want to too,” he smiled before leaning down and kissing you again. You moaned into his mouth when he moved over so that he was on top of you, his lips never leaving yours as he did so. He then trailed his lips downwards, licking and sucking on the skin of your neck.
“Ohh,” you sighed in pleasure, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair. Taehyung pulled away and reached up to grab your hands, untangling them from his hair and holding your wrists firmly when he placed them back down on the bed above your head, holding them there.
“You keep these here for me, ok?” He asked and you could tell from his tone that he was both asking for permission and clarification.
“Ok,” you whispered and he smiled.
“Perfect Omega,” he murmured as he went back to kissing your neck and you had to clasp your hands together because you were too tempted to reach down and touch him again. After he had left a few marks on your neck, he brought his hands up and grabbed onto your breasts which made you gasp.
“As beautiful as this dress is Y/N-ah, I think we should take it off now. Yeah?” Taehyung suggested and you nodded your head rapidly. He moved off of you so that you could sit up and he moved around the bed on his knees so that he was behind you. He reached out and pulled down the zipper on your dress, and you reached up and pulled the dress down off of your shoulders. Once your arms were out of it, you got up onto your knees and pushed it down your legs and onto the floor.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous Y/N-ah,” he muttered huskily as he took in the sight of you in your stark white bralette and white lace panties. Your Omega preened at his praise, making your cheeks warm up.
“Really,” he smiled, moving back around your body and leaning down so that he was face to face with your breasts as he reached out to grab ahold of them. “I’m so fucking lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one,” you whispered as he pulled the material of the bralette to the side, causing both of your breasts to fall out. Without another word, he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. You couldn’t help but to fall back on the bed, Taehyung falling along without a problem and not letting up on the onslaught that was his tongue.
Once your nipple had stiffened to a peak, he switched over to your other nipple and gave it the same treatment. You could smell your scent from in between your thighs, the notes of berries and pink champagne becoming stronger and stronger the wetter you became.
You knew Taehyung could smell you too, because you could feel the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.
“Fuck, Alpha,” you whimpered. “Wanna suck you off.”
“Whatever you want baby,” he agreed easily after pulling his mouth away from you, sitting up and reaching down to unbutton his slacks. You sat up, watching with hooded eyes as he unzipped them, pushing them down a little bit so that he was able to pull out his cock and your mouth literally watered at the sight of it.
Taehyung’s cock wasn’t enormous, but it was definitely longer than average and it looked to be thick. You reached out and wrapped both of your hands around his length, and you felt yourself become wetter when you realized that you couldn’t even wrap your hands around him completely.
“Fuck, I can smell you baby,” he grumbled and you moaned softly at the pet name. “Do you like what you see?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded, leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He exhaled harshly, looking down to watch as you did your best to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. You actually managed to do pretty good, doing your best to breathe through your nose as you sunk down closer and closer to the base of his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he huffed. “Such a good girl, taking Alpha’s cock down your throat.” Bringing your hands back up, you stacked both of them on top of each other as you jerked him off while suckling on the head of his cock.
“God, that feels good. Makes me want to fuck your throat,” he grumbled. “You gonna let me do that one day baby? Gonna let Alpha use your mouth?”
“Mmm, yes Alpha,” you gasped after releasing him from your mouth, your spit acting as lube as you continued to jerk him off.
“Fuck, lay down for me,” he instructed you. “I have to taste you.” You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions, laying back on the bed and resting on your forearms as you watched him push his slacks and boxers down and off his legs before he moved onto unbuttoning his shirt.
He wasn’t overly muscular but you could still see the outline of what would be a six-pack, and your inner Omega loved the fact that your Alpha would be able to protect you if need be.
Taehyung laid down on his front in between your legs, pulling your panties to the side before leaning forward and licking a stripe up your pussy, from your slit up to your clit. You gasped, your thighs involuntarily coming to together but Taehyung’s hands came up to push them back down.
“Be still and let me make you come baby,” he whispered and you nodded numbly. He then went back to licking at you, making you whine and squirm underneath him.
“Huh, holy shit,” you gasped, your chest beginning to move up and down quickly as your orgasm approached you. “Please don’t stop Tae.”
“Mmm,” he moaned against you, shaking his head back and forth over your clit which made his tongue do the same.
“Do that again,” you requested and he obliged you, shaking his head back and forth rapidly and you felt your orgasm winding to it’s end in your abdomen. “Fuck yes, I’m gonna come.” Your head fell back onto the bed and just as you closed your eyes and felt yourself about to tip over the edge into ecstasy, Taehyung pulled away from you.
“What?” You whimpered as you opened your eyes, looking down at him.
“I want you to come on my knot,” he told you. He reached out and grabbed the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and throwing them onto the floor. He then settled himself in between your thighs, leaning down and letting his cock rub against your clit.
“If you want me to come on your knot, you shouldn’t do that,” you whimpered.
“You could come like this?” He wondered in awe and you nodded your head. “We’re gonna have to test that out one day.”
“We have the rest of our lives for that,” you promised him.
“You got that right,” he smiled, moving his hips so that he could slide inside of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly opened you up.
“Fuh, fuck,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering closed at how good he felt inside of you, stretching you out in the best way.
“God, you’re so tight but you’re opening up so well for me baby,” Taehyung grunted, making sure to push his hips as close to yours as he could so that he could go as deep as possible. “You really are my mate, huh?”
“Yes,” you whispered, your mind barely being able to comprehend his words because the feeling of being completely and utterly clouded all of your senses. He continued to roll his hips against yours, his cock dragging against your walls as he did.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this, how much I’ve thought about this,” he muttered. “I’d see you walking around the territory all shy, keeping your eyes low so that people wouldn’t approach you and all I could think about was that you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and how much I wanted to fuck you with my knot.”
“Mmm, knot,” you slurred, making Taehyung smile because of course knot was the word that you caught.
“I’d watch you with the pups, teaching them and being so gentle and patient with them and my only thought would be about how I wanted to fuck some pups of my own into you so that you could be their mother,” he groaned, his hips stuttering slightly when he felt your walls clench around him like a vice grip. “Oh, you want that? Want Alpha to give you some pups?”
“Fuck yes,” you moaned wantonly, moving your own hips so that you were fucking back onto him. “Want your cum, want a pup.”
“I’ll give it to you baby,” he swore as he began to fuck you faster. “Alpha will give you anything you want.”
“W-want you,” you whined as you felt your orgasm quickly building back up again.
“You have me baby,” he chuckled deeply. “You always have, I think.”
“A-alpha, g-gonna c-c-come,” you managed to utter as your body moved up and down the bed, the force of Taehyung fucking you literally moving you on the bed.
“Go ahead so that I can knot you gorgeous,” he encouraged you. You reached down and set your fingertips on your clit, only managing to make two circles on it before you were coming. Your thighs spasmed and clutched around Taehyung’s waist, the rest of your body shaking on the bed from how forceful your orgasm was.
“T-Tae,” you whimpered, your body shivering even after the crest of your orgasm had passed. Taehyung leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your face that were in stark contrast to how he was still fucking you.
“So good for me baby,” he whispered. “Came so prettily for me.”
“Kiss me,” you pleaded weakly and he just smiled at you before pressing his lips against yours. The force coming from how hard he was thrusting into you caused your mouth to fall open and Taehyung didn’t hesitate to stick his tongue inside, exploring around.
You literally felt his cock pulse inside of you and before you could pull away in order to ask, ropes of his cum flooded into you. His knot inflated immediately afterwards, making you moan as it forced its’ way inside of you.
“Holy shit Y/N-ah,” he panted as he hid his face in your neck, collapsing on top of you. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”
“Me either,” you admitted with a giggle. “I loved it though.”
“Me too,” he muttered as he pulled himself up so that he could look down at you. “I know this is probably a weird thing to ask given what we just got finished doing, but you accept the fact that you’re my mate right?”
“Tae, of course,” you smiled. “My Omega would hate me if I rejected you and you know our wolf side doesn’t lie.”
“I guess I just wanted to know if it was as strong for you as it was for me,” he mumbled and you placed your hands on his cheeks, making him look down at you.
“You’re my mate Kim Taehyung,” you told him. “I knew it and felt it the moment that you gave me your wrist and I smelled your scent.”
“I knew it too,” he smiled. “I’ll give you your bite in the morning, I’m just too tired right now.”
“No complaints from me,” you laughed. “Coming so hard can definitely take a lot out of a person.” Taehyung then laid his head down on your chest and you reached up, setting your hands in his hair as you began to play with the sweaty strands.
“I’m so glad that my Alpha chose you,” he muttered sleepily and you could feel the goofy smile spread onto your face before you leaned down and kissed the top of his head.
“Me too Tae,” you sighed in contentment. “Me too.”
649 notes · View notes
pairing - v/irgin!hawks x call girl reader(f!reader)
summary - When Dabi finds out Hawks is still carrying his v card, he takes him to see his favorite girl, who Hawks takes, maybe too much of a liking to. Smut, Yandere undertones.
a/n: slight breeding, hawks is a clumsy virgin, use of the word junkie as an insult, cursing, dabi being not GREAT about women, hawks is bi but does some ace erasure when he says of course he WANTS to get laid. Some derogatory themes towards sex workers, because dabi is NOT great and hawks is AWKWARD irl i do think sex workers are valid and should have a union. MINORS DNI
no beta we die like men srry i got CARRIED AWAY
Dabi chokes on his beer, turning around to meet the golden gaze of the number two hero, a smirk on his lips.
“A v irgin?”
“Yeah.” Hawks says casually. “I grew up in a secure facility, I didn’t exactly go to prom.” He takes a sip of the whiskey in front of him.
“But you do uh,” Dabi’s unsure of how to word it, “You like, wanna fuck, right?” Hawks groans, burying his face on the bar, maybe a little too drunk for his current undercover assignment, but fucking sue him, he was stressed, and exhausted. Dabi shrugs, patting him on the back.
“Of course I do.” Hawks says. “But now, I mean,” he gestures vaguely to the outside world, “Who would like, be able to do that with me without everyone in the goddamn world finding out I’ve never had any pussy.” Dabi chuckles at that.
“You know even crusty’s had pussy.” Hawks lifts his head, shocked.
“No.” Dabi nods, sipping his beer.
“I was as shocked as you are.” He glances over his shoulder where Toga and Twice are whispering conspiratorially in the corner booth. “No idea what their fucking deal is.” Hawks shudders.
“And I don’t wanna know.” Dabi lifts his beer in a mocking cheers. They sit in silence for a moment before Dabi speaks again, the only noise the cars passing by in the night.
“Listen,” he drawls, turning to Hawks, a little drunk. “I got a girl. She won’t talk.” He pauses. “If you’re into girls.” Hawks rubs his eyes.
“I think I’m into, whatever?” Dabi nods. “She hot?” Dabi’s mouth stretches into a wide smile.
“Yeah,” He rolls one of his shoulders, massaging the joint. “She’s got this uh, innocent face, fuckin’ drives me crazy. She’s cheap too.” Hawks nearly chokes on his whiskey.
“You want me to go to a hooker for my first-”
“She’s fuckin’ good!” Dabi snaps.
“So a hooker that you’ve already fucked!” Hawks exclaims and Dabi shrugs.
“She’s a hooker that’s never turned me into the cops. She’s not a junkie,” Hawks winces at the word and Dabi rolls his eyes, “She’s clean, she’s not gonna say shit, she won’t even make fun of you when you bust in two minutes,” Dabi gives Hawks a once over. “She’s nice like that.”
“Oh and what you like about her,” Hawks retorts, “It’s how NICE she is.”
“Yeah,” Dabi grins, “That and you can fuck her tits.” He takes another sip of his beer. “Come on, let’s get the winged hero some pussy before he fuckin’ dies.” He thumps him on the back again. “I’ll have her when you’re done. Your treat.” Hawks downs his drink.
“I am not paying for you to get your goddamn dick wet.” He turns to Dabi, staples glinting in the low light of the bar. “And if I don’t like her, we’re leaving.”
“We’re?” Dabi says in a low growl, “Are ya hopin’ I’ll give you tips, watch over your shoulder?” Hawks swats at him halfheartedly. “Have another drink.” He instructs. “If you go in there all uptight you’ll fuckin’ embarrass me.” Hawks scowls but obliges, pulling a bottle from behind the counter and downing a third of it, adams apple bobbing as the alcohol burns his throat. “Jesus.” Dabi rips the bottle form him. “Whiskey dick’s not a myth, bird bitch.” Hawks nods, a little nervous, a lot tipsy. “C’mon.” He leads him towards the door. The two men stumble through alleys, moving through the city’s darkness. It’s late, already 11PM, and they have to dodge several groups of young partygoers. They move further away from high society though, and the streets quiet. Dabi leads him to a door next to a run down looking convenience store, neon signs advertising inexpensive beer and cigarettes painting the sidewalk with a colorful glow.
“Heyyy,” Dabi breathes into the intercom next to the door, barely hanging on it’s hinges. Hawks stands nervously, this is the last place he’d want someone to get a picture of him, luckily in the darkness, no one seems to notice him. The intercom buzzes to life.
“Dabi,” A male voice growls. “You better have fuckin’ cash for me this time.”
“I’m good for it.” Dabi smirks. “And my buddy is too.”
“Watch it.” The voice is garbled but the door unlocks with a click and Hawks finds himself following Dabi up the staircase, his senses going wild. This couldn’t be a trap, could it? At the top of the stairs, Hawks hears several more locks come undone with a thud. The door swings open, and the apartment inside is cleaner than he expected.
“Taichi,” Dabi drawls, taking the hand of the huge man who stands on the other side of the door. He grabs him, shoving Dabi up against the wall by the collar. Hawks realizes, he must be drunk, or he’d have been able to get in between them.
“The fuck are you bringing here.” Taichi snaps, blue eyes flitting to Hawks.
“He’s cool.” Dabi protests. “Or he woulda turned me in, alright. Listen,” Dabi says, pushing Taichi off him easily and igniting a fist. “I’ll burn this place the fuck down. We’re just here to see her.” Taichi crosses his arms and stares Hawks down.
“Lotta girls here.”
“You know who I’m here for.” Dabi rasps. “I only ever come to see her.” Tachi scowls.
“Yeah I know how much you love fuckin’ my girlfriend.” He mutters, “Just know at the end of the night, she calls me daddy.” Dabi puts his hands up.
“Good, so if you knock her up don’t call me for child support.” Taichi turns away, moving to the kitchen in the apartment, the main room is sparsely decorated, like a normal living space. There’s a green couch, and a coffee table with newspapers on it. The kitchen has cheap linoleum floors and harsh lighting. He swallows, finding his voice.
“I uh, your girlfriend?” Taichi nods, putting a tea kettle on the stove.
“Y/n.” He confirms, turning to the hero. “Never thought I’d see you at my place.” Hawks ignores the question, still mystified.
“Are they all,” Hawks can hear it now, the soft moans, the movement of other people in the bedrooms down the hallway, “Your girlfriends?” Taichi snorts.
“Nah. Just the one Dabi likes. Rest of em are my employees.” Hawks nods, swallowing. Taichi gestures down the hallway. “She’s free.” Dabi leads Hawks forward, the sound of his footsteps on the dirty wood floor sound like a heartbeat.
“Hey Princess,” Dabi calls, before opening a door at the end of the hallway. Hawks blinks, there you are, snuggled up in a bed. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, but Dabi was right, no track marks on your bare arms. You’re wearing lingerie, it’s pale blue and complicated, something around your waist that attaches to your thigh high stockings. He sees you react to him and his heart nearly stops, of course this was a terrible idea. Your mouth drops open, and fuck Dabi was right, there’s a soft innocence about you, despite the nature of this place, that makes him want to cradle your body close to his, a want so strong his palms ache.
“H-hawks.” You squeak, drawing the blankets over your body, and he turns away, face burning, of course he never should have come here.
“Relax,” Dabi snaps, “The both of ya.” He puts a hand on Hawks’ shoulder. “Chill a little, alright,” Hawks nods, swallowing. “And you,” Dabi continues. “Put on those sweet little wings I like so much.” Hawks turns to Dabi, eyes wide, “You’ll like it. Just chill out.” He repeats. “I’m not gonna watch.” You take a deep breath and obey Dabi, getting up and going to the closet of what seems to be a very normal bedroom as Dabi slips out, leaving the two of you alone.
“Dabi says you keep secrets.” He gets out, voice embarrassingly hoarse. You nod.
“I’ve seen worse things.” You respond quietly, your back to him. “Than you, here.” Hawks watches your body carefully as you pull a pair of soft white wings from the closet. You tie them around your shoulders with a satin ribbon. You run your fingers through your hair, tousling it gently. “You look nervous.” You say. He nods. Better come clean.
“I’ve never.” He gestures towards the bed, waiting for the shock and possibly laughter, but oh you sweet thing, you just nod and smile.
“That’s okay.” You say. “I can lead?” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “What do you want me to call you?” His mind races, spitting out an answer before he’s finished even processing the sound of your soft voice into words.
“Keigo.” He says, and you just nod.
“Alright Keigo, I’m going to put on some music, okay, it’ll help you relax.” A soft beat fills the room as soon as you tap a little remote on your bedside. He nods. “Relax,” you say softly, “Keigo,” And fuck it, just the sound of his name on your lips is enough to take him all the way. He resists though, he’s used to fighting his demons. You walk up to him slowly, like you’re afraid he’ll spook. You reach one hand under his jacket and he shivers at your touch. Slowly, you slip it off of his shoulders. It falls to the floor. “Touch me,” you prompt gently and he rakes his eyes up and down your body. He starts with your hips, and your skin is so warm to the touch, and you smile at him so genuinely he slips his hand lower, cupping your ass.
“Don’t fake anything.” He says desperately. “I want this to be, to be real at least, like that.” You nod, his hands trailing your whole body, coming up to cup your breasts. Your breath hitches when he runs his fingers over your nipples, so he does it again and your eyelids flutter a little. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, unsure of what the rules are, unsure of even what that will be like when you’re wearing so little.
“Yes,” You breathe. “Please kiss me, Keigo.” A low growl escapes his lips at the sound of his real fucking name again, for the first time in years, and hearing it from your perfect, beautiful lips. He cups your face in his hands, like they do in the movies, and bends down. His lips meet yours, and it’s slow and clumsy but there’s a gentle passion, something burning underneath the surface. He lets go of your jaw and takes your waist in his hands, pulling you flush against his hips, so that every contour of your body is pressed to his. You can feel his hardening length in his pants and you reach for it, starting to fumble with the zipper but he catches your hands.
“I uh,” He pulls away from you then comes back, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard. “I don’t know, I don’t know why I did that.”
“Let’s lie down.” You say softly, drawing him by the hands to the bed, pulling his shirt off, his chest is impressively muscled as it is scarred. The question falls from your lips before you have a chance to stop it. “When you’re in magazines, they photoshop this?” He nods.
“Yeah I uh,” He looks away, “Don’t think they want people knowing that a heroes time spent is equally split between work and the ER.” You pat the mattress next to you, and he sits down. “I can’t believe I don’t, I don’t know what to do.” You nod.
“It’s okay, just follow your instincts.” You say. “You want me, right?” He nods.
“So fucking badly.” There it was again, that darker undercurrent.
“If I have something you want,” You reach over, tipping his chin towards you with a single finger, “Then take it.” His golden eyes go glossy for a moment as all the blood rushes from his head, and he rips himself out of his pants, diving on top of you, securing your mouth in a clumsy kiss.
“Ah,” You gasp when his weight presses down on top of you, you grind your hips against his, “Fuck, Keigo,” he kisses your jaw, kissing down your neck, “Yes,” you breathe, “Just like that, just like that Keigo.” You repeat his name and it seems to drive him into some kind of frenzy, his hands grab your hips roughly, pain blooming but you just groan softly, “Start with your fingers, please,” you half beg, half gasp, feeling the sheer size of him pressing against your thigh. He nods, running a digit up your slit experimentally, delighting in the way it makes you squirm, your beautiful face changing, and the wings, those fucking wings, they’re getting to him more than he though they would. They spread out behind you so prettily when you’re on your back, he looks down at your glistening, perfect pussy and he knows what he wants. He brings his face lower, scooting down on the bed.
“That’s uh,” You sit up a little, “Keigo that’s not really a beginner move.”
“I’m paying.” He says, a slight edge to his voice. “So just lie there and take it.” You bite your lip at the shift in his demeanor, relaxing, hoping he’ll know not to use teeth, remembering that he told you not to fake anything when - oh jesus christ. “Mmmhh,” He groans into your wetness, “Sweeter than I expected.” You swallow, your back curving into a slight arch.
“Ah, oh god,” you choke out, “Little less,” he’s sucking hard, it’s almost too painful to be pleasurable, “There,” you breathe a sigh of relief as he backs off, “Just like that, Keigo.” You moan again, louder this time, and he looks up at you, inspecting your face for any hint of theatrics, but decides you must be telling the truth because he watches the blood start to pool in your cheeks.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He murmurs, having found your clit, delighting in flicking his tongue over it, watching you react like he was shocking you, taking fistfuls of your sheets. He knows what’s next, he’s seen enough porn to know what he has to do next, taking one of his fingers and slipping it inside of you. Just the feeling of your soft wet walls is enough to make him cream himself, he barely stops himself from rutting against your bed sheets. He can’t imagine what that will feel like around his cock, but he wants to know, he wants to know so fucking badly. You moan again a little, a soft mewl, a beautiful sigh, he’s learning he loves that sound, he loves that you’re like some kind of musical instrument, that when he twirls his tongue around you in the right way he knows what kind of response it’ll elicit, what little song you’ll sing for him.
He adds a second finger, moving them gently, exploring you, watching your reactions carefully. He presses experimentally against this soft spongey spot and watches you jerk up on the bed, gasping for air like he’d choked you.
“M-more,” you get out, “You’re,” you arch your back in response to his touch and he smirks a little, pride coloring his face, “You’re stretching me, f-for you,” he nods, looking up,
“But it’s also supposed to feel good, right?” He says, a little more pride creeping into his expression. You nod, eyes shutting and then shooting open as he scissors his fingers inside you,
“Fuck, Keigo,” and there it is, his name again, but this time it high pitched and pinched, rough and so broken and beautiful, this more than anything else sounds like a song. “Right there, fuck, please don’t stop,” he doesn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t, not with your eyes so glassy, not with your lips parted like that, “I’m, I’m gonna cum, Keigo,” you moan loudly, “Fuck, I,” you pause and he watches, enthralled, this was nothing like porn, your face wasn’t cute, there was no feminine whine to your voice, just a high gasp, like a teakettles whisper, as your body trembled under his touch. And then, your cunt, jesus christ your tight little hole fluttering, pulsing around him, was that normal? He wonders, did everyone’s pussy do that? You prop yourself up on the bed, pulling him out of his reverie.
“Keigo,” you say quickly, “Keigo please, please fuck me.” He nods, looking up at you again, face flushed, still shaking from what he assumed were aftershocks, “On top.” You say, gesturing for him to move and he nods, of fucking course he wanted to be on top right now, to crush those pretty little wings in his hands, there would be time, he was already thinking, next time, when you could ride him, but right now, he wanted control. He moves up the bed, placing his hands next to your shoulders, drawing you into another clumsy, passionate kiss, but he was getting better, you realized, learning quickly as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
He slides his head against your softness, meaning to play, meaning to tease but utterly unable to control himself, as soon as he’s touching you he’s shoving his length roughly inside, rutting his hips against yours with the speed and power of a pro hero. You cling to his forearms for dear life, and he watches the most perfect little gasps and moans spill from your lips, tears welling in your eyes, gossamer in the low light dripping down your cheeks. He feels, fucking incredible. He wants to tell you, to tell you that you’ve got the best pussy in the world, the tightest, the warmest, the wettest, but there’s not a single thought in his mind as he chases his own high roughly, making only strangled, desperate groans, all bravado slipping from him as he pounds into you, he needs this. Keigo needs you.
After all, when his ears stop ringing, that’s what you’re moaning, that’s what your crying out, babbling his name out like it’s part of some kind of sacred ritual. Keigo, keigo, keigo, he hears, “Keigo, please,” he picks up the pace somehow, huge crimson wings spreading behind him as your soft walls flutter, “Keigo don’t stop.” Stop? He was never going to stop. He was flying, this was flying, but better, but sweeter and softer, he never wanted to hear the word stop again.
“Fuck,” He snarls, eventually, collapsing on you, cock spurting white ropes of cum in your pussy. He’d forgotten a condom, jesus christ, and he didn’t even care. The thought of your stomach swollen with his baby almost made him hard again. He flops next to you and pulls your soft body into his. He nearly loses it when you tangle your hands in his hair and snuggle in. The feeling of your fingertips on his scalp makes him shiver in a new way, you bury your face in his neck and he holds you close, remembering himself, remembering where he is, and who you belong to. He presses his lips to your forehead and you coo softly. Your wings were slightly disheveled, but they only made you more precious to him in this quiet soft moment, he’d have to thank Dabi for that later, oh shit Dabi. It didn’t feel right to him, that others would touch you, Dabi, Taichi, he glances towards the window, he could take you, he could take you easily, and you wouldn’t be able to resist him, to fight. He looks down at your peaceful face.
“Kiss me.” He murmurs, and you do. He basks in the warmth of your presence, holding you, comforting you. “You’re so beautiful. He murmurs, and it’s true, you are, utterly docile and fucked out in his arms. There’s a knock on the door.
“Oi, birdbitch,” Dabi calls. “Ya finished? Took longer than I expected.”
“No.” Hawks snaps. “I’m not done.”
“Well hurry the fuck up,” Dabi snaps. “Daddy wants to get his cock sucked.” Hawks looks down at you, surely you weren’t in any shape for that but you stretch and yawn, and the thought of Dabi forcing you onto your knees makes him red hot with anger. He takes a deep breath.
“Alright.” He kisses you again, one more time. He speaks lower, to you. “I’ll come back.” You nod, dumbly. He looks around at your bedroom, clothes hanging in the closet, your threadbare sheets and comforter. He could buy you nicer things. He could take you to nicer places. And he would. He gets dressed, leaving you on the bed, and when he opens the door, Dabi practically knocks him over to get inside.
“Took you long enough.” He growls, slamming the door. Hawks practically floats down the hallway, touching Taichi on the arm in the kitchen. He keeps his tone calm and measured.
“How much,” He asks, “How much for her?” Tachi nods.
“Call it $200 even.” Hawks digs out his wallet, peeling out the bills.
“What if I wanted her for longer?” He asks casually and Taichi shakes his head.
“Some girls do weekends.” He takes a sip of his tea. “She just does hourly.”
“For longer than a weekend.” Hawks presses, and the other man’s eyes darken, he places his teacup on the dirty counter.
“Sorry,” He says, “That’s my bitch.” Hawk’s jaw sets for a moment before he slips back into his role, pulls his mask up over his face.
“Alright, man. No hard feelings.” Taichi watches the hero carefully. Hawks shoves his hands in his pockets. If he listens, with his superior senses, he can hear you with Dabi, hear your moans that sound more like cries of pain, hear the harsh slap of Dabi’s hand against your skin, his cruel growling. He stumbles out of the building, no longer drunk, leaping up into the night sky, racing home.
You were already his, he decides. You just didn’t know it yet.
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Teach Me | KNJ Oneshot
pairing: wolf hybrid!namjoon x human!female reader
genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot
au: hybrid au, roommates to lovers
rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+
word count: 6.6k
warnings: slight angst, some pining, first time sex, public sex, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, hickies, breast play, knotting, cum holding, cockwarming, slight breeding kink, size kink (joon got a big cock), fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms
House Jincubus presents: Room of Restraints
AU Type: Hybrid AU
Theme: First Time Sex, Public Sex
Kinks: Biting, Scratching, Hickies, Breast Play, Knotting, Cum Holding, Cockwarming, Breeding Kink, Size Kink
a/n: Finished this just in time... Didn’t mean to go so long without posting anything but please accept this as an apology. Thank you, thank you, thank you to my soultwin @escapingreality4now for running to my aid when I hit multiple writing blocks with this piece. your support and wisdom saved me. you always know what I need to help me through before I even think of it and i love you. Also, big big thank you to @kimtaehyunq for looking over this last minute to help me make sure everything flows. you are awesome and i love you!
“What have I gotten myself into,” you think to yourself as you walk through your front door from packing up your car.
The loud sound of something large hitting a wall somewhere in your apartment greets you upon entry. You peer down the hallway towards the bedrooms, eyeing your roommate’s, Namjoon, closed door as you make your way to the kitchen. The moment your feet touch the tile of the kitchen, you stop in your tracks. Eyes growing wide at the mess of your countertops. Various amounts of Tupperware half filled with chopped up meat, fruits, and cheeses are scattered around the room, proving to be the aftermath of somebody’s abandoned attempt at meal prepping. Another loud bang comes from behind Namjoon’s door, startling you as you let out a sigh. You walk up the counter and start to organize the food into the containers in equal portions as your mind begins to wander.
It’s only been nine months since you and Namjoon moved in together. Being best friends throughout college, the both of you decided to stay in the city after graduation. Agreeing to move in together to help split the expensive cost of rent that came with living in the heart of the city. You thought the only thing you’d have to worry about is the secret crush you still harbored for him and if it would affect you being able to live together. How naive of you to think that would be the biggest issue.
Namjoon is a wolf hybrid. You’ve never lived with a hybrid before. It’s not that you regret the decision, you just wish you would have thought to research what it would be like to better prepare yourself. Especially for one who is about to go through their heat.
In the beginning, living with Namjoon was going great. The close quarters and seeing each other every day brought you two closer and it didn’t take long for you to feel as if your crush wasn’t so unrequited. Only a few weeks ago Namjoon was placing soft good morning kisses to the top of your head or resting his hand briefly on your waist as he brushed past you. But just as soon as it started, it all had stopped. You continue with your task of sorting the food as you think back to the day he told you what was going on.
2 weeks ago
“Joonie, what’s all this meat for?” You ask, a slight giggle to you tone as you walk back up to the shopping cart. Namjoon stands there with two stacks of meat in his hands, the muscles in his arms flexing as he places the items into the cart. His pointed ears perk up at the sound of you walking up to him. His tail wagging sheepishly as he blushes, dimple ghosting his cheek as he gives you a shy smile. You can’t help but inwardly swoon at how attractive he looks. The bangs of his dark brown hair falling into his face as he stands up straight.
“Well, uh… My heat is coming up. Need to make sure I have enough food to make it through,” he says, eyes on you as he watches you process the news.
“Ah.” You nod your head in response. Not sure why you are as it’s not like you fully understood. Being human, hybrid heats weren’t exactly your expertise. You take another step towards the cart, placing the bottle of laundry detergent you had gone to retrieve on top of the growing pile. You hear a small cough and look up at it’s owner. You notice Namjoon staring at the detergent bottle with furrowed brows.
“Did I get the wrong kind?” You ask, looking back down at the item. You could have sworn you grabbed the right brand. The smell of this detergent being one you would know instantly. The subtle woodsy fragrance being one you associate very much with Namjoon.
“No, it is the one I buy. It’s just, um…” Namjoon trails off, scratching the back of his head as you look back up at him. He averts his eyes, avoiding eye contact with you as he starts again. “I was actually going to grab a bottle of yours.”
He continues speaking before you can say anything, answering your unspoken question. “I was going to take it with me to the hybrid hotel. In case I started to miss you,” he mumbles shyly.
You feel your cheeks heat at the sentiment. A blooming warmth in your chest begins to grow only to be cut off by your mind fixating on the rest of his words. “Hybrid hotel?” you repeat, your brows furrowing in curiosity.
Namjoon shuffles slightly on his feet as his eyes finally meet yours. “It’s a place for hybrids to go during their heat. Where other hybrids can get together for, umm…” He pauses, clearing his throat as his face turns a darker shade of pink. “... for help.”
“Help?” you parrot back in confusion before your brows shoot up. Your mouth dropping open as you let out a soft ‘Oh’ in realization. “Oh! Right, okay. Uhh, yeah. I’ll just go swap them out then.” You rush out the last of your words, snatching the bottle from the cart and turning around. You practically run back to the laundry aisle, not giving Namjoon a chance to say anything more.
As you place the last bit of meat into the last container, you remember how hurt you felt. Still feel if you were being honest. You wonder if he ever thought about asking you for help. You’d consider it, even though you don’t know what all that would consist of being. You remember thinking it would be something more comfortable to go through in your own home. Maybe he chose the hotel because he didn’t want you around. This thought is what led you to make the choice that you did. Considering his reaction when you told him your plan, it only added to your realization of how sorely uneducated you are on hybrid heats.
1 week ago
“You don’t have to go to the hotel. You can stay here.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, catching Namjoon off guard as soon as you got home after work. You just didn’t know how to bring it up and you’ve barely talked to him, let alone seen him, since the grocery trip a week ago. So when you walked into the apartment and saw him folding laundry on the couch, you acted without thinking.
You can tell you startled him at the slight jump of his shoulders. He turns to look at you. A look of surprise displays across his face as he replies, “You… you want me to stay?”
“Yeah. I figure it would be more comfortable than any hotel,” you explain, walking into the living room and sitting next to him on the couch. A mix of his woodsy detergent and another scent hitting you as you get closer.
He looks at you curiously, a twinkle of wariness in his eyes as he goes to fold the blanket in his hand. “Are you sure you’d be okay with me being here?”
You let out a small giggle as you give him a reassuring look. “Joon, this is your place, too. Why wouldn’t I be? I just figured I’d help anyway I can.”
His ears perk up as he takes in your words. Eyes wide in shock as he looks at you. Mouthing dropping open to speak, but you cut him off before he gets a chance. ”Which is why I’ll be staying elsewhere for the week,” you rush out. “I have a coworker who's dating a fox hybrid and she’s offered a place for me to stay.”
You watch as his pointed wolf ears fall just slightly as he looks away. His features darkening as he clenches his jaw, grabbing his folded laundry and placing them into the basket. “So, you won't be here,” he deduces from your words, placing the last piece of laundry into the basket.
“No,” you reply cautiously. “I figured you’d want your privacy? I didn’t want to get in your way in case…” In case you wanted to bring someone to help. You finish the sentence in your mind. The words cause an uneasy feeling in your stomach.
Namjoon nods at your words, still looking at the basket in front of him. “Right,” he clips, grabbing the basket as he stands from the couch. “Well, thanks,” he mutters, his tone laced with annoyance as he walks past you. You get another small whiff of the other other scent coming from the laundry as he passes, identifying as the mystery scent as the lavender detergent you use. You watch as he walks down the hallway, still not looking at you as he slams his door, disappearing into his bedroom.
Another loud thud startles you, pulling you from your memory. You look down at the completed meal preps and let out another sigh. You make sure the lids are secure on the containers and begin to stack them in the fridge. You place the last container of food in the fridge and wipe down the counter. You inspect your t-shirt and jeans, making sure no food stains have found their way onto your attire, prompting for a wardrobe change. Having no other distraction to delay your departure to your coworker’s house, you decided now is as good as any time to hit the road.
Walking out of the kitchen, you stop in the hallway, looking back down towards Namjoon’s room. You figure it would be rude of you not to tell him you were leaving. You walk towards his door, raising a fist to knock when you hesitate. Wondering to yourself if he even wants you to say bye to him. You debate if you should ask him to give you a call should his heat end early. Or if he would like for you to call and check on him. Or even drop in to make sure he eats. “Oh god what if he has someone over?”
Before your mind could dwell too much on that thought, the door in front of you swings open, bringing you face to face with the tall, brown-haired hybrid. His ears pointing up in shock to see you standing there.
“Why are you just standing here?” He asks you as he holds open his door.
“I, umm,” you stammer, the sudden appearance of him catching you off guard. “I’m about to head out. Just wanted to tell you bye before I…” You trail off, taking in his appearance. He had a plain shirt and gym shorts on. Sweat is building on his hairline as you notice his breathes seemed slightly uneven. Your eyes trail down his arms, ogling at how noticeable buff they look, wondering if his upcoming heat has anything to do with how they look larger than usual. You catch the sight of his house keys in his hand and nod to them. “Are you going somewhere?”
He looks down and clears his throat. Taking a step forward around you and closing his door. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to settle something at the bookstore. Didn’t set for Jimin to have access to process payroll. It needs to be sent out while I’ll be gone,” he says, walking down the hallway to the front door.
You follow him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen counter as you pass by. “Do you want me to drive you and drop you back off? I don’t mind.”
“No, I got it. I’ll take my bike.” He grabs his jacket and reaches for the front door. You try to shake off the feeling that he doesn’t want to be around you and go to offer again.
“But, Joon it’s…” You’re cut off by the loud curse Namjoon lets out as he opens the door, taking in the state of the weather outside.
“It’s raining,” he finishes your sentence. The sound of raindrops hitting the pavement hard filling the brief silence that follows. He turns to look at you as he lets out a small huff. “Yeah, a ride would be appreciated. Thank you.”
You give him a soft smile as he holds the door open for you, closing it behind him as he follows you to your car.
The drive to the bookstore was silent. The rain drowns out any music playing from the radio during your short drive to Namjoon’s work. You pull up to the curb, parking right in front of the storefront to give Namjoon the shortest trek in the rain possible. He unbuckles his seatbelt, grabbing the door handle before he stops and turns to you. “You can come in if you want. I don’t know how long this will take me and it will probably be more comfortable than waiting out here.”
You give him a smile, nodding at him as you pull the keys out of the ignition. You both speed out of the car and towards the shop, managing your best to stay as dry as possible in the short distance. Locking your car, you follow Namjoon into the bookstore. Once inside, a warm, angelic voice greets you.
“Welcome to Cypher Bookstore! Oh, Namjoon! Didn’t expect to see you for another week,” the cute blonde male behind the front desk addresses your roommate, smiling when he notices you standing behind him and reaches out his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Jimin. Namjoon’s favorite employee. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re my only employee,” Namjoon grumbles as he walks around the counter towards the back office, stopping briefly as he turns and motions towards you. “This is my roommate, Y/N. I’ll be here for just a little bit. Forgot to do something before I left yesterday.”
You shake Jimin’s hand, giving him a smile as you see his eyes light up. A sudden realization forming in his mind as he looks at you. “OH, YN! I’ve heard so much about you,” he sing-songs, letting out a little chuckle as he notices the faint trace of confusion on your face. “You’re one of Joon’s favorite topics,” he whispers as he raises his hand to block his mouth. It was only for show, seeing as his volume was still loud enough for Namjoon to hear from the office. The wolf hybrid pops his head out of the open office door, interrupting Jimin before he could say anything else.
“Hey, Jimin. Why don’t you go take a quick lunch while I’m here? I can watch the store. We shouldn’t get very much traffic with this kind of weather.” By the way Namjoon glares at Jimin, you both can tell it was more than just a suggestion. Jimin gives Namjoon a thumbs up as he smiles, winking at you as he walks around the counter and heading towards the door.
“It was nice to finally put a face to a name. See ya!” You wave him bye as Jimin bounces out the door and into the rain. You watch as he disappears out of sight when you hear Namjoon call for you, turning to look at him from across the desk.
“You can take a look around if you want. I’ll just be in here if someone comes in or if, you know, you need anything,” he says, giving you a half smile. You nod your head, huffing out a small “okay” as you turn around, venturing into the small two story shop.
You roam around, taking in the numerous shelves of books, all sorted by what seemed to be genre and author. In the middle of the room, you notice an iron spiral staircase leading up to another section of the store. A loft area that would overlook the entire bookstore if it weren’t for the long curtain that blocked it off.
You walk up the staircase, entering into the cozy little section as you make it to the top. You notice only three bookcases in the small area. The rest of the space fitted with a table in the middle and a medium sized couch against the wall behind it. You figure it’s an area created for study groups or research. Your assessment is confirmed when you browse the loft’s reading contents. Various informational books and research journals line the shelves once again sorted by genre. Your eyes stop on the label marking the start of the ‘Hybrids’ section. Eyeing the titles, you find one that catches your attention. You reach for it without a thought as you read the name of the book in your mind. A-Z on Hybrid Heats. Flipping it open, you turn and walk around the table, sitting down on the couch as you stop on the page titled Heats.
Heats are a biological mating cycle all hybrids go through. Heats can last 4-7 days and begin with fever and increased pheromone production (see Pre-Heat).
You continue down the page, skimming the sections leading into information on heat triggers and heat suppressants. You come up on the section of breeding, reading through prevention options when your eyes stop on a word that catches your eye. Knotting. You flip to the page it points you to. Your eyes grow wide when you’re met with an anatomical picture of what knotting is. You continue on, taking in the brief explanations the book offers on knotting, marking, and various other terms. You knew heats were a time where a hybrids sex drive was high, but you had no idea it consisted of all this. You didn’t realize sex for a hybrid would be that much diffierent.
As you look back up at the anatomy diagrams, your mind wanders to the wolf hybrid just a floor below you. Is this what happens with him? Does it hurt? Has he ever marked or claimed anyone before? Surely not, as it seems like a one and done type of ordeal. You would know if he had someone in his life like that, wouldn’t you?
“Would he ever consider me?” you think to yourself, eyes closing as you picture what it would be like between you and Namjoon. Would he be rough? Would he be gentle? You begin to fantasize what it would feel like. Him buried to the hilt inside you, his knot growing as he grabs your chin. Moving your head to the side, exposing the bare canvas of your neck as his other hand roams over your body. Mumbles of how you belong to him and only him falling from his lips as he plants kisses across your body. The mental imagery causes you to squirm in your seat. You rub your thighs together, trying to find some relief as you feel your growing arousal start to leak from your core.
“What are you doing?” Namjoon’s voice comes out of nowhere, snapping you out of your day dream as you shoot up from your seat, the book dropping from your lap and onto the floor.
“S-sorry, I was just reading while I waited,” you stammer under his gaze. Feeling like a little kid caught looking at something they shouldn’t. You take a look at Namjoon, noticing how he was now drenched in sweat. The knuckles of his hands turning white as he holds onto the railing by the staircase. “Are you okay?”
“My heat,” he growls. The tone of his voice is an octave lower than usual, the deep rumbles of his baritone causing another slick of arousal to leak from you. Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your groin before looking back up at your face. His eyes watch you hungrily as he speaks through clenched teeth. “It’s starting early.”
“Oh, okay,” you nod, bending down to grab the book you dropped off the floor. Trying your best to hide the cover as you walk around the table. Hoping he won’t see the title when you pass him. “Let me put this up and we’ll hurry and get you home. Namjoon?!?”
You barely make it past him when he reaches for your arm, snatching the book from your hands and glancing at the front cover. “Why are you reading this? He asks, a single brow quirking up in half amusement.
You reach for the book, letting out a small gasp of surprise when Namjoon stops you, catching your wrist with his free hand. “Answer me.”
“I was just reading to pass the time.” You can tell by the way his ears twitch that he could sense the lie in your words. He tosses the book to the side. A soft thud echoes in the small loft as it hits the ground. He starts walking you backwards into the room, hand still wrapped around your wrist.
“I can smell you, you know,” he drawls. Your eyes grow wide as you blink back at him. Cheeks heating with embarrassment as you immediately know what he’s referencing. “Is that what was getting you all worked up? Reading about my heat?”
You feel the back of your legs hit something solid. Placing your hand on the surface behind you, you realize it’s the table. “Why read that book?” he asks again, his dark orbs piercing into yours as he waits for your answer.
“I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, but considering his close proximity, you know he’s able to hear you. He eyes you carefully, moving his free hand to brace itself beside yours on the table. You notice the strain in his arm muscles. As if he was trying to hold himself back from you, despite how little of a distance there already was.
“Help,” he mimics. You notice one of his pupils is already half blown, something you think is a cause of his brewing heat. He leans in closer to you, his nose barely touching yours. “Like more than just giving me my privacy at home?”
You push yourself slightly off the table, trying to stand up a little straighter as you look the wolf hybrid in the eye. You take in a deep breath, replying to him with as much certainty in your tone as possible. “Yes. More than just giving you privacy.”
You barely register his growl before you feel his lips on yours. His mouth devouring you hungrily as you return his kisses. A small moan slips past your lips as his free hand cups your face, tilting it to the side as he traces small nips across your jawline, ending just by your ear.
“You know, I can teach you so much more than that little book,” he purrs. The insinuation of his words traveling down your body and straight into your core. Your hips grinding up into his out of instinct as he pulls away from you just slightly.
“I need to know you want this,” he says to you. Breathing heavily as he searches your face, looking for any traces of doubt.
“I want this, Joonie,” you answer him, moving your free hand to cup his face. You watch as his eyes flutter shut at your touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Teach me.”
The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes shoot open. His gaze full of hunger and lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips come crashing back down on yours. He lets go of your face and wrist and reaches for the button of your jeans. You help him remove them, sliding them down your legs and kicking them off as he lifts you up. Sitting you down on the edge of the table as your legs wrap around him, drawing him in closer to you. He presses his hips into you, his growing bulge pushing right into your weeping, cloth covered core. Your panties, soaked from your arousal, were sticking to your skin as you grind your hips in him. Namjoon’s hands scour your body. He lets out a soft moan as he brushes his hand over your breast, giving one a soft squeeze as he trails his hands down to the hem of your shirt. He breaks the kiss, lifting your shirt up over your head, a soft groan of approval at the sight of your lace covered chest. You take the opportunity to do the same to his, tossing his shirt to the side before grabbing his shoulders and bringing him in for another kiss. He rips at the back of your bra, breaking the clasp as he tears the offensive fabric from your body. You find it hard for you to care, feeling his desperate need for you too much of a turn on to dwell about the ruined garment.
He lays you back on to the table, kissing down your body and stopping at your breasts along the way. He wraps his lips around a hardened bud, massaging the other between his thumb and finger tips. He sucks lightly, pulling off with a pop as you let out a soft moan. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this,” he confesses, trailing kisses across your skin before circling your other nipple with his tongue. He takes it in between his teeth and gives it a small bite. You breathe in sharply from the sensation, gasping out your response as he starts to trail kisses further down your body, sinking to his knees in front of you.
“Me, too, Joonie. Wanted you for so long.” You take in another sharp breath as he moves his face between your legs, nudging your clit with his nose before moving your panties to the side. He runs his tongue up your slit, gathering your leaking juices on the tip before flicking it against your sensitive bud. He brings his tongue back into his mouth. A deep guttural growl resonating from his chest as he savors your taste. “All for me” he growls as he reaches for the top of your panties. Pulling them down your leg and tossing them to join the previously discarded clothing.
He leans back into your core, planting soft kisses around every part of you except where you wanted him most. He moves over to your thigh, giving the soft flesh a nibble before sucking on the skin leaving rose colored patches trailing back towards your center. You feel him place his fingers on either side of your entrance, splitting your lower lips apart as he makes a V with fingers. You let out a small whine, reaching down to find the top of his head and weave your fingers into his hair. “Joonie, please. No teasing,” you beg.
The breath from his chuckle tickles you as he leans back in, flicking your clit again with his tongue. “So needy for me,” he mumbles, taking your clit between his slips. A soft moan slips past your lips as he slowly begins to suck rolling his tongue around your swollen bud. You feel him gathering your wetness on his fingers, slipping two of his digits into your slick hole with ease. You arch your back, mouth dropping open at the stretch as he pumps into you, scissoring his fingers every other thrust. “Need to prep you quick. Can’t wait any longer, “ he huffs out between licks, inserting a third finger into you as he picks up his speed. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands each time he brushes against the small patch of nerve inside of you. Your walls start to flutter around him, alerting you both of your oncoming orgasm. Namjoon continues with his pace as he wraps his lips once again around your sensitive bud. “Come for me,” he demands. The words are muffled but your body hears it, obeying him as if it knows nothing else. Your orgasm leaves your body quivering, your toes curling in as a high pitched whine falls from your mouth.
You feel Namjoon pull away from, a soft groan rolls through your chest from the loss of him inside of you. You look at him through hooded eyes as he stands, hovering over you as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them of your release. Your eyes flicker down to his large bulge, watching as his other hand busying itself as he palms himself over his shorts. Leaning up on your elbows as you observe Namjoon’s every motion of dropping his boxer and shorts.
Your eyes grow wide the moment his impressively large, erect member is released from its clothed cage. He grabs a hold of himself, pumping his throbbing length as he moves closer to you. Namjoon is huge. You can’t help but not feel surprised considering the build of him. You feel your core begin to clench, your pussy crying to be filled by him. Your mouth starts to water, your tongue wanting so bad to lick the precum leaking from the mushroomed tip. “I want to taste you,” you purr, pushing yourself up off the table. A pout forming on your lips as he shakes his head, laying you back down as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Later baby,” he groans as he rubs his cock between your swollen lips. “I need to feel you.” He slowly starts to push in, catching your lips in an opened mouth kiss, swallowing every one of your moans. The feel of him stretching you open burns slightly, the sensation overridden by pleasure as Namjoon slips his hand between your bodies and rolls circles around your clit. You swear you could feel him in your stomach when he stops, still pleasuring your swollen bud as you adjust to the size of him. You want to tell him to move, breaking apart the kiss to do so when he speaks first.
“Just a little more baby. You think you can take in all of me?” He asks you, a shit eating grin splitting across his face as he notices the shock on your face.
“There’s still more of you?” You breathe out, peeking down in between your bodies at where you’re connected.
“Oh yes baby,” he coos, trailing kisses down your throat. “And it’s all for you.” Namjoon takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly as he pushes his remaining inches inside you. Your back arches, pushing your breast further into his face as he bottoms out. A deep groan rumbling through his chest as he starts grinding into you.
“Move, Joonie.” Those words were all Namjoon needed to start up his pace. The first few pumps were slow, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you can tell he was trying to hold back, to ease you in. His control falters as you pull his face up to you from your breast, whispering “faster” into his ear as you wrap your arms around his back. Your nails anchor into his muscles as he unleashes at an unrelenting pace.
Namjoon pumps into you with fervor. The storm and your surroundings fading into an abyss as the small room is filled with the sound of your shared wanton moans. Each thrust pushes Namjoon deeper and deeper. His length makes it easy for him to hit you in all the right places. Your nails leave red welts on his back with every pass of his tip over the rough patch inside of you. By the occasional hiss that leaves Joon’s lips, you can only guess a few of your love marks broke skin. Very soon, you feel a warming sensation building inside of you again. You shut your eyes, trying to sooth your body to hold out just a little longer.
Just as you feel yourself near the edge, Namjoon slams into you, pausing his relentless onslaught as he lifts you up from the table. Your legs wrapping around his waist for balance. He starts walking you around the room. The accumulating sweat of your naked bodies causes you to slowly lose group. You slip from his grasps just a little, your nails clawing into his shoulders as you squeeze your legs tighter around him. The action makes your walls clench around Namjoon’s member, still buried to the hilt inside of you. The sensation causes Namjoon to stumble, groaning as he braces you up against the nearest bookcase. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbles as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, nipping at your skin as he slowly grinds his hips up into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.”
You make your walls give him a playful squeeze, not able to help the giggle that escapes your lips as he pulls his face from your neck and glares at you. “Is that how you want to play?” He growls as he pushes you further against the bookcase, grabbing ahold of your waist as he reels his hips back. He pounds into you furiously, your head tilting back as your mouth drops open. You feel the warmth in your center resurfacing, growing fast as Namjoon bounces you harder on his dick.
You didn’t realize you had moved away from the bookcase until you feel the soft fabric of the couch hit your back. Namjoon lets out a soft grunt as he falls slightly on top of you, readjusting the two of you into a comfortable position in between each thrust. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck again, nipping along your collarbone as he transitions his movements into a slow grind. You feel like he’s holding himself back again and you silently hope you don’t ruin the mood with your next words. “You can mark me, Joonie. Only if you want to.”
You feel Namjoon’s hips pause as his shoulders tense under your arms. He leans up, wide eyed as he meets you face to face. “Y/N… You don’t know what you’re asking for. I mark you, I claim you. You’re mine forever.” He cups your face in his hands, his eyes watching you so intently, you feel as if he could peer into your soul. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes, Namjoon. I’ve only ever wanted you.” The look in Namjoon’s eyes turns feral as he dives down, taking your lips into a passionate kiss. His hips pull back, reigniting his pace with one hard thrust as he once again begins to pound into you. Releasing you from his kiss, he grabs your chin turning your face to the side as he whispers into your ear.
“All mine, huh? Pretty baby wants me to claim her? Want me to mark you? Mate you? Fill you up with my pups?” He continues to fucking into you as he insuates each point of his speech with hard thrusts. “You want me to pump you full of my cum? Fuck you until you’re good and pregnant?”
His words have your mind turning to mush. Thoughts of being his and only his taking over your every thought. A future where you bear his children. A future with him. You can hardly make out the words of agreement that fall from your lips as your entire body starts to tingle. Your walls begin to flutter, the subtle indication causing Namjoon to quicken his pace, helping you chase your release alongside his.
“Come with me baby.” Your mind barely registers Namjoons words as waves of euphoria flow through your body. The power of your orgasm minimizes the sudden stab of pain on your shoulder from where Namjoon’s canines pierce your skin from his bite. You feel his length twitch inside of you as spurts of his come fill you to the brim. Suddenly, you feel an uncomfortable pressure just past your entrance. The excessive stretching of your walls causes you to whine as you try to squirm free. Namjoon caresses the side of your face as he peppers kisses around his mark, whispering to you that it’s okay. You let your body relax as much as possible. The ringing in your ears subsides. The only sound you hear now is the mismatched heavy breathing between the two of you.
Namjoon places his arm next to your head, trying to prop himself up to keep as much of his body weight on top of you. He leans up just a bit, the movement causing his knot inside you to slightly tug at your entrance and you wince. Namjoon freezes before lowering himself back down a bit. “Sorry,” he huffs out in a chuckle. Kissing you on the lips as he rubs tiny circles with his thumb on your hip. “I know this can’t be comfortable, but it’ll go down soon.”
“It’s okay,” you breathe out, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck. “I can handle it. Anything for you.”
He smiles at your words, leaning in closer to you to rub the tip of his nose against yours as you smile back at him. You both lie there for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of being so full of him as his cock slowly softens inside of you. The feeling doesn’t last much longer as the realization of where you still are sinks in. “Um, how soon is soon though?” you ask. Your nerves make you feel suddenly very exposed under the fact that anyone could have walked in during your activities.
Namjoon leans back up and gives his hip a little test tug. With no signs of resistance, he continues to pull completely out of you. The both of you wince at the loss, you once more as you feel the mixtures of your releases starting to spill out of you. Namjoon catches the escaped fluids with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you. “Fuck, I need to get you back home,” he says as he moves off the couch, retrieving your discarded clothes and bringing them back to you. “Seeing you like this will definitely be something that could set off my heat again.”
You let out a giggle as you grab your panties, slipping them on before any more of his release tries to slip out. “We’re lucky Jimin didn’t get back early.”
As if on queue, you hear the front door chime, alerting you of someone’s arrival. “Hellooo! Joon Y/N? You guys still here?” Jimin’s voice trails up the stairs as you and Namjoon look at each other, eyes growing wide in panic. You both scramble to throw on the rest of your clothes. Barely getting the final pieces settled in place before Jimin’s blonde hair comes into sight. He stops at the top of the stairs, head cocking to the side in curiosity as he sees you and Namjoon standing awkwardly by the couch. Mischief twinkling in his eyes as he crosses his arms. “What have you guys been up to? Y/N, what’s that on your neck?”
You reach up to your shoulder, feeling part of the bite mark sticking out of your collar and pulling your shirt to cover the rest. Namjoon lets out an awkward cough, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the stairwell. “I was just showing Y/N around. But it’s time for us to go, see you in a week.”
You give Jimin a wave by as you follow Namjoon down the stairs. As you make it to the front door, you hear Jimin call down from the loft, “I hope you have a great vacation, Joon. Have fun you two.”
You see Namjoon’s cheeks flush pink as he pulls you faster out the door and towards your car, the weather taking a temporary break from the rain. Opening your car door for you, he waits for you to start to get in before tugging on your arm, bringing you back to standing in front of him. He pulls you in for a kiss, the both of you breaking into a smile before it ends. Oh yes. Fun you two will most definitely have.
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stress relief | hp x fem!reader
summary: after feeling stressed, harry comes to you for some time alone and reveals a new kink
warnings/content: making out, praise kink, switch!harry, sub/dom, mommy kink, oral (fem receiving), dry humping
a/n: this was my first smut so ??? it was really fun to write tho, i’m a whore for sub harry. also how ironic i’m posting this on mother’s day 🧍♀️
you were sitting in your bed, reading your favorite book when your attention was caught by the sound of your door opening.
you saw your boyfriend, harry, standing there with the key you gave him to your dorm. he locked the door as it closed and turned to you flashing a lazy smile. you smiled back at him and closed your book, marking where you left off.
“hi harry.” you greeted him.
“hi love.” he began to walk towards you and you moved to the edge of the bed, settling on your knees. you reached your arms out to him and he gladly wrapped his arms around you as you hugged him.
“you ok?” you asked him. he sighed and pulled away. you had your arms around his shoulders and he placed his on your waist, rubbing your skin slightly with his thumbs.
“not really.” he replied. you gave him a concerned look.
“what’s wrong?” harry shrugged.
“there’s a lot going on and it just feels like too much, you know?” you nodded at his words understanding what he was referring to. you were in your last year at hogwarts and no one really anticipated the pressure the end of this year would have to offer. you and harry hardly had time to be alone anymore.
“come sit on the bed.” you gestured to the side of the bed your pillows sat at and he nodded, pulling away from you to sit on your bed. you moved over to him and straddled his lap, leaning your head in the crook of his neck. you wrapping your arms around his torso and he returned the gesture.
“do you want to talk about it?” you asked him.
“no, i just want you right now.” he lifted your head and you pulled back to look at him.
“i love you.” you said.
“i love you too.” he smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. the moment was warm and comforting and you made sure to show every bit of your love for him in it. you lifted a hand to rest on his cheek and he softly put his on you chest near collarbone.
in almost an instant the energy of the room changed. harry bit on your bottom lip causing you to open your mouth and his tongue entered it, turning the moment into a heated make out session. his hand lifted to go around your neck, something he often did when he wanted more. you loved the feeling but sensed he was slightly letting you have more control in the kiss than normal.
you and harry had talked about your likes and dislikes as soon as your relationship got to a more intimate stage. although he was always in the dominant position, he expressed that he’d like to try being submissive. the two of you never got the chance to yet but in this moment you decided to take the initiative.
you moved your hips a bit to get more comfortable but in the process harry let out what seemed to be a whimper. you looked down, breaking the kiss, and saw the print of his growing boner in his pants. you felt a bit of accomplishment and wanted to break the dominant front he still had up. you moved your head up and connected your lips again into a passionate kiss.
you grabbed the wrist of the hand he had around your neck and pushed it down. from that action he was clearly startled and you smirked into the kiss. you pulled away from his lips and placed kisses on his jaw. you moved to leave wet kisses on his neck until you reached a spot that made him groan. you focused on leaving a hickey there as you moved your hips against him.
“y/n...” harry moaned out and put his hands on your waist, helping you keep the same pace. you lifted your head and smiled at the spot that was forming on his neck. you noticed how he tugged on the bottom of your, really it was his, sweatshirt.
“you want to see my tits, baby?” harry’s lust filled eyes looked straight into yours and he nodded eagerly.
“use your words, please.” your thumb rubbed his cheek.
“yes. i- uh, want your tits.” he said. you lifted the sweatshirt over your head and threw it off the bed. you studied his reaction as he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. he reached his hand up to touch them but you grabbed it before he could. he looked at you with wide eyes.
“i never said you could touch me.” harry knew what you were doing but he wasn’t go to let you get there all the way yet.
“i’ll touch you if i want to.” he snapped back. you raised your eyebrows at this and quietly laughed. you rubbed your hand on his boner making him close his eyes and whine at your touch.
“that’s what i thought.”
harry finally let go of whatever form of dominance he had left and let you takeover. you pulled the bottom of harry’s shirt up until it came off and began to unbutton his pants. he help in pulling them off and you admired the boy under you. he was anticipating your next move and looked completely desperate. his hair was messy and his chest moved up and down in an attempt to control his breathing.
you moved back to straddling his lap and harry’s breath hitched as you sat directly on his boner again. you moaned at the feeling and began to rub on him again, moving your hips.
“c-can i please suck on your tits?” harry whimpered out. you nodded.
“go ahead, baby.”
he put his mouth on your left boob and swirled his tongue around your nipple. his hands were back on your waist and he let out moans at the feeling of your clothed pussy on him. you rolled your eyes back at the stimulation you felt in your core and you chest.
“you’re doing so good harry. being such a good boy for me.” you moaned out. he let out a low groan and mumbled something incoherent.
“what was that?” you asked. harry stayed silent. you held his chin forcing him to look at you and let go of your tit.
“i asked a question, pretty boy.” you saw that he seemed nervous as he struggled to repeat himself.
“i said, erm,” he took a breath in and out through his nose. “i said yes mommy.” his face grew even more red than it already was and you smiled at the name.
“so my good boy wants to call me mommy?” you gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“is that ok?” he asked you.
“more than ok.”
you moved back off of him.
“harry, lay down for me.” without hesitation he did as told, placing a pillow under his head. you got back on top of him and rocked your hips. you were determined to make him cum right there. you leaned down, leaving kisses on his neck. harry was under so much pleasure that all he could do was let out uncontrollable moans and whimpers.
“oh my-, m-mommy you’re gonna make me...” he whined, unable to finish his sentence.
“be a good boy and cum whenever you need to. i’m right here, it’s ok.” you whispered in his ear and placed a kiss under it, picking up your speed.
“fuck!” you felt his cock twitch through your thin shorts. “ahh- i’m cumming,”
“cum for mommy, baby.” you prompted him. harry cried out as his orgasm reached him. you felt the small wet spot in his underwear grow as his cum shot out of him.
harry’s breathing slowed back down as you stopped moving and left kisses all over his face.
“you did so good harry. i love hear your pretty noises.” the boy whined at your words.
“thank you, mommy.” he breathed out.
you got off of him and pulled his underwear off.
“you made such a big mess, baby.” you licked some of the cum the dripped on his cock off all while keeping eye contact with him.
“merlin, y/n..” harry moaned and his cock twitched from still being sensitive.
“do you want to nap, harry?” he looked back at you and bit his lip.
“what about you?” he asked. you smiled.
“seeing you cum is enough pleasure for me.” you sat back next to where he laid down. he leaned up on his elbows.
“i want to eat you out mommy, please can i?” he said.
“well when you ask so nicely like that, how could i say no?” he smiled at your words and moved down between your legs.
he pulled off your shorts and groaned softly at the sight of the wet spot on your underwear.
“you’re so wet.” he practically whispered as he took your underwear off. he kissed your inner thighs slowly getting closer and closer to your needy pussy.
“stop teasing harry.” you whined out. he finally licked on your clit and watched as you moaned. he attached his mouth to it and sucked on your clit. you put a hand in his hair, slightly pulling on it causing him to let out a moan that only added to pleasure you received.
“look up at me, harry. mommy wants her pretty boy to watch her.” he looked up at you through his glasses. you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows as you felt yourself getting closer to your high.
“please cum on my tongue.” harry said and he moved his tongue to lick your hole and go inside you as his fingers rubbed your clit.
“oh, i’m so close-” you arched your back and moaned out. the grip you had on his hair got tighter and your legs shook as your finally reached your orgasm.
your breathing was heavy and you whined slightly as harry licked your sensitive pussy clean.
“you taste so good.” harry moved so he was hovering over you.
“thank you for being so good, baby.” you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
harry leaned down and laid so he was half on top of you, half not, and his head rested on your bare chest.
“shall we get cleaned up now?” you asked, running your hand gently through his hair.
“mmm, not yet. it’s really comfortable here.” he replied and left a kiss on one of your tits. you laughed slightly as you recalled everything that happened.
“well goo goo ga ga then bitch.” you joked. harry’s head shot ip and he looked at you with an “offended” facial expression.
“this is on me, love.” he smiled at you.
“you’re the one with the mommy kink!”
“you’re the one that agreed to it!”
you both burst out in laughter and he put his head back down. you sat in a comfortable silence, taking in the moment of being in each others embrace.
“can you stay here tonight?” you asked in almost a whisper, not wanting to break the silence quite yet. he nodded.
“whatever you want mommy.” he teased.
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You’ve Always Been The One | Miya Osamu
Pairing: Osamu X Reader (gender neutral)
Genre: fluffy, college au
warning! timeskip osamu! but no spoilers to the main plot of the story, also suggestive at one point
gif from @rivaillerose 💛
“’Samu?” You turned your head toward your husband as half of your body was sprawled across his lap as the two of you watched tv
But really, the two of you were half paying attention as your mind wandered as well as your husband’s as he played with your hair, clothes, and even your body as you laid on him like a picky child playing with their food
“Hm?” He hummed as his actions never hesitated once, continuing his rhythm
“Was there ever a time you knew you wanted to marry me?” You turned your body in his lap, facing him, looking up to him as his charcoal eyes met yours
“What makes ya ask?” His lips pulled to a smile as his hand cupped your cheek
“No particular reason, I just realized I never asked or really knew..”
“Mhm… I would have to say that second year of Uni around finals that semester I moved back home…”
The bedroom looked so cramped yet so empty at the same time
There were still a few boxes of Atsumu’s things left in there as well as other belongings of his still lying about yet his top bunk was empty
And now osamu’s luggage filled the space
It was hard to believe that he had shared the room with his brother for so many years, all the way up to their third year
And now Atsumu was gone, going pro as a volleyball player whereas Osamu was back
He cleared Atsumu’s the old desk, moving the pile of magazines to elsewhere to make room for his own studies
It was a bright morning, the sky was clear, and the sun was still rising
He ate a delicious breakfast he made and now all he had to do between now and the end of summer break was to get through the hell week of finals
Through it was stupid how some of his own professors were giving out big tests and papers that weren’t even the final but almost equivalent
He spent the day going about, studying, forcing himself to focus because if he knew he didn’t, he surely wouldn’t be studying
He continued to grumble to himself as he shook his head reading over the text
He just wanted to be done with school and to focus on his plans for his restaurant
He could see his future just out of reach and you were there too
That was all he could ask for for his future: to have you and his restaurant
It was all he ever wanted since graduating from Inarizaki
But the longer he also thought about you, the more guilt he felt for not texting you for the past few days as he studied, not giving himself a chance to breathe
Time ticked by minute by minute, page my page, hour by hour as his fingers typed rapidly over his keyboard
“Osamu, you need to do your laundry, honey,” his mother chimed in as she barged into the bedroom as he was in the middle of his thought
“I know, mom. Please leave, I’ll do it later,” he tried his best to not sound annoyed at his mother since he was well aware that she was doing and saying these things for him
Though she did have the tendency to repeat things for him to do even if he said he would do them eventually
But he couldn’t help but feel annoyed since he had lost his train of thought
The day went on and still no laundry or unpacking had been done, except for his backpack for all his school stuff combined with his computer stuff
He needed to finish the two papers whereas one had already been submitted around early dinner time but he still had one more to complete and he only had about a quarter of the day left
His stomach growled, his eyes didn’t want to even look at another screen
But he had to to his dismay
The closer he was to finishing college, the sooner he could get to practice of his culinary skills and open his restaurant
He leaned back in the old seat as his creaked beneath his weight
His eyes burned as he massaged them through his eye lids, sleep calling for him, his stomach calling for food
He just wanted to be done for the night. That was it
He could care less about the grade at this point, even though he knew he should at least try to give the bare minimum
A subtle knock on the door caught his attention but he didn’t even Bothe rot look up
“Mom, I told you I’ll do my laund-“
“Uh, I’m not your mom,” you laughed a bit as your face and figure appeared through the ajar crack in the door you made
Osamu sat up in his seat as he opened the door more for you
But before you could even step in, he threw his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and neck as he rocked side to side
“Hi. I missed you, oh my god hi,” was all he could sat as he snaked his hand around your waist, the other holding your shoulders from behind
He didn’t want to let go now that you were actually here
In just this moment with you, holding you close, feeling your skin against his, your hair tickling his face
The stress was washing away the longer he held you and if he could, he wanted to just bring you to bed and sleep
You laughed as you rest your chin on his shoulder, rubbing his back with one hand
“Oh! I brought this for you.” You sadly had to break out of his embrace but he did the best he could to keep holding onto you as all he did was move his head so he could see what you held
“I figured this would be more meaningful than texting you and asking how you were doing?” You looked down to your fruit platter, wishing you cut the legs of the stars better but also hiding your bandage wrapped fingers
“Thank you, it’s cute.” He smiled down to the fruits you had decoratively put onto the platter as he took it, setting it down on an empty spot on his desk beside his laptop
“Wait, aside from the fruit, what’re you doin’ here? Don’t you have a final tomorrow?”
“No, silly. It was today but I’m done since my other courses didn’t require any finals.”
He escorted you in as you plopped onto his bed, while he sat backwards in his spinny chair
“You’re so lucky,” he groaned again as he spun, grabbing the plate of fruit
He undid the saran wrap you had over the fruit as he stuck a slice of pineapple into his mouth, using another toothpick to stick a strawberry for you to feed you
“Thanks.” You bit it off as you looked around the old room though you had only been in here for a few times from high school
“What’re you working on?” You stood yourself up form his bed, leaning on the edge of his desk to read over whatever he had on his laptop
“Oh, that. It’s just one of my papers I have to do before my finals. They’re so dumb and annoying,” he groaned
But also thinking back, he never understood how he did what he did these past few years for school
“When’s it due?”
“Midnight, but now that you’re here, I don’t wanna finish,” he sighed the truth
“Oh wait! I can help you if you want. This professor uses the same exact prompts every semester and I had her last semester, remember?” You excitedly scrolled through as you glanced at the time
there as just enough where there was a little less than four hours to 11:59pm but he had gotten far enough where you could help him wrap up his thoughts
“I could even just type what you want for you if you don’t even want to touch your laptop.”
Osamu just sat still, silently staring at you
You couldn’t even make out what he was thinking or feeling with that look on his face
before you could even ask anything more, he set the fruit platter down, slowly brought his arms into your waist
“I love you, so much.” His stress melted as a new wave of motivation
He grabbed his laptop and guided the two of you to his bed on the lower bunk
His fingers moved over the keys as you laid beside him, your leg draped over his as you rest your head against him
You caught his errors to which he rapidly backspaced to fix
and before the two of you knew it, the fruit platter was empty and his paper was submitted
“I’m free,” he groaned in relief as he shut his laptop, setting it on the nightstand, and turned back to you
He melted his lips to yours, his own lips curling in glee
He saw the smile on your lips, the rosiness on your cheeks with your eyes closed as you kissed him and he kissed you
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled into your lips, his arm propping him up beside you, both his legs on either side of you
He deepened the kiss as time now slowly passed, minute by minute and now he could finally taste you after being away for so long
You stayed with him all night as he showed you how much he truly adored you - though all he could show you how was through a physical way
there weren’t enough words in his vocabulary he could use to string together a sentence or phrase that truly told you how much you meant to him
“So me bringing you fruit was what made you want to marry me?” you looked up to him and smiled, the same smile he fell in love with and the same smile he loved just as much, if not more
“Well, yes and no...” He was deep in thought. “I think that point was more of like a solidification to my confirmation that I wanted to marry you.”
“‘A solidification to your confirmation’?”
“Yeah. I knew for the longest time I wanted to marry you, Y/N.” He combed his fingers through your hair, lifting his legs onto the couch as a way to bring you closer so he could kiss you all over
“You’ve always been the one for me, Miya Y/N,” he chimed, his lips ghosting over yours as he said your name, something he would never get over how good it sounded to him
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