#especially with a low follower count
peanutcrow · 20 days ago
ah shucks, i really hope tumblr fixes its tagging issues soon. It's kind of a buzzkill when you work on something for some time and it just doesn't show up in the tags or disappears shortly after.
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merethicera · 4 months ago
lydia thinks reiklings are cute. how can you hate her shes an everything girl
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#that being said i just went Over There #and. can i say i’m so very tired of them labeling tumblr ‘an adult fandom space’ because it’s simply not true #like i AM an adult (yes n*ncy 23 does count as an adult. i pay my own rent with money from my own job while i do grad school. shocker) #young people like spn too. it doesn’t get to be liked exclusively by older white women who pride themselves on shipping *ncest right from #the pilot episode. sorry but it doesn’t work that way #and bullying a minor because ‘they didn’t tag correctly’ is ridiculous #tumblr’s tagging system STILL makes no sense to me and i’ve been here on and off for eight years #AND y’all are the ones who made up these arbitrary rules and refuse to bl tags you don’t like #believe it or not destiel IS a part of spn so tagging a destiel post with spn is not some heinous crime #it’s also the completely reductive idea of ‘kids these days are stupid’ when it’s really something more like #‘kids these days have opportunities and access that i didn’t and thus are more likely to disagree with me which i hate and am jealous of’ #ANYWAY younguns who follow me i hope you know that fandom spaces especially spn are for you also #you literally can have started watching in nov bc of a meme and still ‘be a fan’ #there’s no such thing as a ‘good’ or ‘real’ fan #just block them. honestly truly just go and block them all. as many as you can find #curate your fandom space to be a positive experience for you and if you get hate on a post just block them #i can’t even tell you how many you know whos i have blocked. low hundreds AT LEAST #uhhhh anyway this got away from me i’m just protective of young people bc i’m going to teach y’all (although. idk if there are #many middle schoolers on here bc that’s my age range. still) #anyway anyway happy birthday good vibes to dean! minors you are welcome on the destiel side of things! and HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!!!!
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atsymu · 28 days ago
okay I have 2 ideas and u can choose, so rin in the morning is extremely hawt, like his eyes and messy hair and raspy voice OR because its almost New Years and ik ur partial to a little exhibitionism, suna getting a bit carried away during a sloppy makeout sesh at kita's yearly New Years party 🤪
warnings — nsfw 18+ minors dni. f. reader, exhibitionism, breeding.
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“r-rin, shit—the countdown.” you babble from your pouty lips and you hear suna hum, followed by a growl that sounds like it rumbles through his chest when he lifts his long lashes to look at you—his green eyes piercing and heavy with need as he gazes back at you.
he shoots you a sly smirk, exhaling shakily at your words before you almost squeal when he draws his hips back once more—your cunt squeezing around him as if trying to suck him back in and suna’s hips twitch, his lips parting to let another low groan fall from them.
he rolls his hips back into you again, his thrusts more practiced this time as he keeps you pinned to the door of kita’s bathroom—close enough for you to hear the shuffling of the party outside, everyone getting ready for the countdown.
“you better count then, pretty baby—nghhh, shit—“ suna eventually drawls, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he continues to sink his cock into your doughy cunt. his pace isn’t fast, but the force of his hips is—making your body jolt with each thrust, using every ounce of his well known core strength to make your pretty tits bounce with each snap.
“count.” the dark haired male breathes again, grunting and clenching his teeth and you know his words are more of a command than teasing at this point, especially when you feel his pace stutter when you clench around him once more. the reaction causing suna to curse roughly before one of his hands move to grab your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his just as the countdown begins outside.
“f-five.” you whine, arching against the door to push yourself closer to your boyfriend and you hear him laugh, breathlessly.
“four.” you feel suna reposition his knees before the pace he sets a new pace—one a little faster, rougher and you grab at his shoulders to keep yourself steady.
“three.” his thrusts are loud, clapping and if you could form a coherent thought you’d be glad the party is so loud that it’s covering the needy mewls and moans falling from both your lips.
“two.” you gasp, feeling him pound away at the spot that has warmth pooling in your stomach and suna trembles before curling over you, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he smears messy kisses along your shoulder, mumbling praises into your skin “h-holy shit, that’s it baby—fuck, just like that.”
“o-one.” you almost scream when you suddenly feel a familiar rush of warmth along your body, your pussy twitching and creaming around him as you cum and suna stills as he gives into the needy coax of your walls—spilling into you with a wordless but satisfied groan as he allows your pussy to milk him.
you feel his hips still, the aftermath of your orgasm causing your thighs to shake and you feel yourself grow sleepy, blinking up at your boyfriend when he finally pulls back to gaze at you—leaning in to place a quick kiss against your pouty lips while his cock softens inside you.
“well shit—happy new year, pretty baby.”
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pinkandblueblurbs · 2 months ago
Beautiful Girl
Druig x Fem!reader. Smut, penetrative sex, making out, dirty talk, light degradation, praise, kinda tender, d/s, light bimbofication
word count: 815
Slick pools in your channel as Druig’s lips move against yours, slow and sensual but dirty with the way his tongue slips into your mouth. He maps out every inch of the cavern- every tooth, every tastebud- he even strokes across its sensitive roof and smiles against your lips as the tickle makes you giggle.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.” He breathes out as he pulls away, eyes scanning down over your exposed body. “Especially laid out under me like this.” The words make your cheeks burn with embarrassment while your stomach burns with arousal. He cups your face, thumb stroking your jaw before his touch trails downwards over your neck and finally his hand comes to cup your breast, kneading the flesh lightly. You moan when he gently rolls your nipple between his fingers.
“And what pretty noises you make,” he’s smirking, clearly having an air of arrogance about him at being able to pull such sounds from you so easily. Your back arches to meet his touch, your own hands reaching up to splay over the warm muscles of his chest and abdomen.
You whine when Druig’s hands leave your breasts, and a gentle shh leaves his lips as he brings two fingers up to his mouth. You watch with rapt attention as he sucks them, moistening them with his saliva before pulling them free.
“Spread those legs for me, darling.” He orders softly. Before you can even think your thighs are falling apart, granting the man above you total access to your wet cunt. Druig smirks, looking down.
“Mm.. I like that”
“Like what?” You murmur, voice breathy.
“That I don’t have to get in your head to control you.” His voice is low, his accent lilting with a cocky dominance that has your head spinning. Usually you’d shoot back some equally snarky response, but you can’t muster one in your aroused state, so all that leaves your lips is a needy whine. Druig’s smirk widens.
“Such a sweet, desperate thing.” He coos almost tauntingly as he positions his cock at your entrance, the head dragging through your wet slit. He chuckles when you angle your hips upwards to meet him. “Want me t’fuck you? Yeah?” Your head bobbles in a nod. “Use your words, gorgeous. Lemme hear you say it.”
“Please fuck me, Druig.” The words come out a whisper, warm breaths that fan against Druig’s lips which are mere inches from your own.
“That’s my good girl.” With the murmured praise he pushes into you. His thick cock breaches your tight walls and causes your head to fall backwards in pleasure. He smears hot kisses over the arched column of your neck as he sheathes fully inside you, only stopping when his balls rest flush against your ass and the head of his cock sponges over your g-spot. You let out a long moan, lewd and unabashed.
“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He grits out in response to your sound, his lips curled upwards. You nod, lips parted and brows furrowed in pleasure as his hips roll rhythmically into yours. “My beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, Druig.” You gasp, hands shooting up to grip his shoulders for purchase. He lowers down to kiss you, the movement of his lips just as fiercely passionate as the movement of his body.
You can feel your orgasm taking root; pleasure blooming in your belly, cultivated by his deep thrusts and growing up through your sternum to escape your throat as blissful cries. He senses your nearing release immediately and keeps up the snap of his hips, careful to maintain the speed and pressure that you so clearly enjoy.
It’s thanks to this care that you’re able to tumble over the precipice, your body tensing and cunt contracting as rapture overtakes you. Druig’s voice is in your ear immediately, hoarsely whispering “that’s it, darling. Fall apart for me. Fuckin’ perfect.”
With the way your walls clench around his shaft it doesn’t take long for him to follow you into orgasm. He lets out a rough groan and quickly pulls his hips back, his cock spilling thick ropes of cum onto your lower belly and the mound of your cunt. Panting breaths escape your lips as you stare down, watching the thick substance land on your body and warm your skin. You whine softly at the erotic sight.
“Didn’t think you could get prettier,” Druig drawls breathlessly, gaze also trained down at your cum covered stomach, “but looks like I was wrong.” He uses the rough pad of his thumb to run through the fluid, as if to rub it into your skin. “You’re just made to be covered in cum.”
“Don’t go getting a big head about it.” You mutter teasingly, giggling when Druig looks up at you with a raised brow. He presses a kiss to your lips, your grins melting together.
“Y’got your sass back, eh? Strange how it seemed to disappear for the past half hour.” He says, as if pondering, and you roll your eyes.
“Shut up and clean me off, will you?” Druig chuckles, moving off the bed.
“Alright, alright. Bossy little thing.”
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weepingvoidpenguin · 8 months ago
Unfortunately Yours
Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?
Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M
Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)
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   Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to. 
   Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.
   You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face. 
   You were the lamb to this White Wolf.
   Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.
   Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.
   The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.
   Scum. All of them. 
   You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.
   “Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.
   “When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.
   “I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”
   He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.
   Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?
   His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.
   You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them. 
   Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.
   You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.
   Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.
   Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.
   Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.
   “Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.
   You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.
   Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.
   He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”
   You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.
   You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled. 
   “There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.
   Like a moth to a flame.
   “How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.
   Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” 
   The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine. 
   A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”
   The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line. 
   Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,” 
   Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”
   You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.
   The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”
   The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”
   Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here. 
   Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.
   So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you. 
   The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business. 
   “Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
   You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.
   Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup. 
   Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse. 
   Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.
   You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose. 
   You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out. 
   Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you. 
   This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.
   Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.
   “Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.
   Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though. 
   You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features. 
   “You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.
   His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.
   You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”
   You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.
   “Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.
   “Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.
   Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”
   He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.
   “I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”
   “I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.
   And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short. 
   It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.
   What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.
   And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone. 
   You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop. 
   You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.
   You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited. 
   You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped. 
   “You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
   You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face. 
   “Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.
   You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.
   You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it. 
   You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.
   Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.
   You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,” 
   “You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.
   Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.
   “Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”
   “Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.
   “Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.
   “Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself. 
   “Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”
   He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”
   “You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.
   When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute. 
   “Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail. 
   He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness. 
   Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.
   He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.
   “No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.
   “No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.
   You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation. 
   You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”
   Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark. 
   “I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.
   You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”
   Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,” 
   You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.
   Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.
   You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.
   You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.
   You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”
   “It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”
   “What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
   A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.
   “Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”
   His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.
   “I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”
   You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
   He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.
   “Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.
   “Then what?” 
   “I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”
   “Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.
   “It doesn’t,”
   “Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.
   He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee. 
   “Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”
   “I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.
   You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”
   “I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”
   “I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”
   “Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”
   You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.
   “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.
   “Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”
   “Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”
   You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”
   The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.
   Then his lips crashed against yours. 
   You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you. 
   “So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”
   His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning. 
   You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.
   Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.
   “Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.
   The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily. 
   Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands. 
  The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him. 
   You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts. 
   His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.
   Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.
   “I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.
   The light went off.
   You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,” 
   Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,” 
   He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.
   You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.
   “Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.
   “Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.
   The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line. 
   Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.
   “Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”
   You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God. 
   “Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”
  Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.
   “Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.
   Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area. 
   Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face. 
   A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.
   “Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”
   “That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.
   “But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”
   Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.
   You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t. 
   “Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”
   You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.
   You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears. 
   He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.
   But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.
   He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.
   Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours. 
   “Swallow,” he ordered.
   But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.
   “Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.
   He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard. 
   He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”
   You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold. 
   At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.
   “Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.
   You nodded again.
   “I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.
   “Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”
   Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.
   “This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.
   You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
   You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”
   Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.
   He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.
   “Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.
   The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.
   “Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.
   He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.
   “Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.
   He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself. 
   So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.
   Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.
   “There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.
   Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.
   “Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.
   You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.
   When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.
   Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time. 
   You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.
   His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.
   Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.
   He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
   Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”
   You chuckled, “Fuck me,”
   He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.
   “Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.
   You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body. 
   “Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.
   He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy. 
   He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him. 
   He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.
   “What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.
   At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.
   He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.
   “Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.
   A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”
   Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.
   He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.
   Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth. 
   You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.
   You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core. 
   “What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.
   You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch
   He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”
   You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.
   “Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.
   You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.
   “Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”
   “Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
   You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.
   “What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.
   You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”
   His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.
   “’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.
   “Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”
   You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.
   He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”
   Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.
   He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.
   He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
   He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.
   You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.
   “I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”
   You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.
   He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.
   He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.
   “Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”
   He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.
   “Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”
   His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.
   You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?” 
   He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.
   “Then cum,” 
   He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.
   Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.
   He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind. 
   “Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”
   He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him. 
   You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word. 
   And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.
   Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.
   His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.
   “Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.
   He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-
   “Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”
   He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.
   You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”
   He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course. 
   After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
   “I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”
   He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.
   “I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”
   Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”
   You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after. 
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bibblelevi · 3 months ago
These Little Games We Play | Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader
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Summary: Levi gets tired of short, short skirts around the house.
Word Count: 3.2k
Content/Warnings: MINORS DNI. Reader is afab with she/her pronouns, stepcest/pseudocest (taboo), infidelity/cheating, power dynamics, oral (f receiving), fingering, dubcon (because of power dynamics), orgasm delay, corruption kink, dom/sub undertones, panty-stuffing, panty-gag, degradation and humiliation, impact play, punishment, hair-pulling, daddy kink
Author’s Note: Oh my god… you guys… it’s finally here. The step daddy Levi shoving panties inside you headcanon being turned into a fic. I’m at work right now but posting this because I’m impatient. It’s truly been a long time coming. I will see myself into hell now. Also, I feel like I did way too many position changes in this but there’s no chance in hell I’m going to rewrite. Enjoy.
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Levi’s sick of it.
Pants that hug your hips and flare out in the most flattering of places. Low cut tops and peeks of lacy bra straps. Short, short skirts around the house when you’re going out for a night of drinking with your friends.
He’s fucking sick of it.
The house has been empty for the week with your mother away on business, and while Levi knows she’s sleeping with her boss, he surprisingly isn’t a ball of icy rage as he should be.
He should feel enraged. Humiliated. Upset. But truly, the only thoughts in his head right now consist of you in that goddamn skirt.
You’re prancing around in the kitchen, downing a glass of water before you leave. He’s leaning against the doorway with folded arms, gray eyes following the shake of your pleated skirt as your hips sway with your rushed movements. A plain white tee is messily tucked into the waistband.
No spandex tonight, he notices.
Just pretty white lace. When you bend over to dig through the cabinets, the entire backside of the skirt raises up, flashing him snowy lingerie. The thin band between your ass barely covers your cunt.
“Nice panties,” he comments dryly.
You jump, head swiveling over your shoulder, wide-eyed. Heat attacks your cheeks and you scramble to adjust your skirt. “Levi,” you exhale. You lean back against the counter and grab onto the edge, barely breathing as he slowly approaches you. His eyes are glimmering. “As blunt as ever.”
He stares. “You’re just gonna go out like this then?”
“I don’t see why not,” you retort. He’s a few inches away from you, giving you a once over. Indifferently, he tucks the astray hem of your shirt into your waistband, fingertips gliding over clothed skin at a slow and burning pace.
“What… are you doing,” you choke out.
His expression doesn’t shift. “Tucking in your shirt, obviously.” He inhales a whiff of rich vanilla and something flowery. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”
“Hm. Did you know your mother is screwing her boss?”
You gape. Levi’s always been blunt but it never ceases to catch you off guard, especially when he says something particularly jarring.
Reluctantly, you nod once. “I’m sorry.” Sincerity oozes from your tone. “I was going to tell you, but… “
“It doesn’t matter.” He reaches for the ring on his fourth finger and spins the silver band. “At least now I can fuck you and not feel shitty for it.”
You blanch. Holy fuck. Your eyes nearly cross as he leans in, lips inching close to your ear. His hot breath alone is enough to send a flurry of chills curdling down your spine; his body so close to being pressed flush to yours.
“I…” How the fuck are you even supposed to respond to that? Of course, ever since your mother brought Levi home, you envied her for somehow managing to sink her fingers into this man before you had the chance. You envied her even more when he slid the ring on her finger.
Perhaps it was more a marriage of convenience, seeing as they were never in love, but still, you wanted him, and that ring meant he was claimed. Then the more unattainable he became, the more you ached to be touched by him.
If only you had met him first, you would’ve—
“You don’t think I haven’t picked up on your little game by now?” He asks. His fingers ghost up the length of your torso, up and down, up and down. His lips move against your skin. You want him to kiss you. You want to kiss him. Fuck.
“I’m… I’m not… I— “ Warm, damp lips mold to your jawbone, hesitant and waiting. You melt against him, latching your fingers into his cotton shirt as he kisses to your ear lobe. “Oh, Levi.”
“You’ve always wanted me,” he continues to unveil what you’ve always thought. “Always wanted me to touch you. Isn’t that right?”
Dumbly, you bob your head. “Yes. Yes, please. Touch me, touch me— “
“It’s not that easy.” He pulls away, your noses brushing. You feel a hand on the back of your head petting down loose pieces of hair. “Living room. Now. I want you on the couch.”
“But, what about— “
He grabs your cheeks, squishing them between his thumb and fingers. In a low tone, he breathes, “If you think for a second I’m letting you flash these panties to anyone but me, you’re dead wrong. Do as you’re told.”
As calmly as you can manage, you head for the living room, heat pooling between your thighs. Levi follows close behind you, watching you perch eagerly onto the couch cushion. He sinks down next to you and pats his knee.
“Here,” he says. “Over my knee.”
With a drying throat, you crawl onto his lap, positioning yourself as he expressed. Your ass is elevated on his firm thigh, barely covered by your skirt.
It doesn’t matter anyway. He flips it up the second you’re in place, cool air attacking your skin, immediately soothed by the heat radiating from his large palms. You hold your breath, grabbing onto the edge of the couch cushion as his hands explore your body for the first time. He cups your pert ass, not squeezing, not pinching, just feeling you.
Those hands grip your thigh, pushing it open and scale up the groove of your backside to the small of your back. His fingertips sneak below the hem of your shirt, seething skin on skin contact making you stiffen.
You throb with anticipation. Your lips part.
“You aren’t subtle by any means,” he speaks. His hand trails down and finally, finally, dips between your legs, pressing flat over your clothed cunt. “You have any idea how loud you’ve been this week? Just because your mother’s gone doesn’t mean the house is empty.”
“I-I know,” you gasp. Your knuckles pale.
“You know?” He clicks his tongue and rubs back and forth, applying more pressure. “So, you’re intentionally moaning my name as you fuck yourself? Trying to provoke me?”
“Maybe,” he repeats. It’s like he’s waiting to see if you’re going to correct your tone or not. “Dirty girl. I don’t remember allowing you to come all of those times, but I guess you never even thought to ask permission, huh?”
He tugs up on the panties, wedging them harshly into your slit, and you wiggle your hips for some friction.
A wicked blow strikes your ass. You hiccup.
“Dirty girls get spanked,” he answers the question you have yet to ask.
Already your thoughts begin to unravel. All that matters is the harsh sting from Levi’s hand hitting your ass and thighs, never ceasing. Your entire cunt pulsates, slick soaking through the fabric ridiculously bunched against your most sensitive area.
You sigh with relief when he finally hooks his finger around your waistband and slides the ruined panties down your thighs. You assist him, moving your legs so he can pull them from your ankles. He shoves your skirt up even further.
When you settle back into place, again, his palm comes down on your ass, the shrill slap echoing through the living room. He barely even gives you any time to register the pain before he’s marking the same spot.
“Ah!” You cry, back arching. Left, right. Right, left. Somehow, he managed the same force behind every swing. You grit your teeth and whimper into the dark, conflicted by the sensations unfurling through you when two lithe fingers cautiously ease their way between your slick folds.
“Soaked,” he comments, then murmurs, “Of course you are.” You don’t have to glance over your shoulder to know he’s rolling his eyes at you—you can just hear it in his voice.
Two fingertips find your clit with ease, performing languid circles that have your jaw hanging wide open. He brings his fingers down and briefly dips them inside of you before returning to the same spot.
“Do you normally get this wet for the brainless guys you fuck?” He snarls.
You whimper, shaking your head.
“Words, sweetheart. Use them. You can’t possibly be that fucked out already.”
“They don’t spank me,” you croak out a response. A heavy exhale wracks your body. “Always… always have to imagine it’s you so I can come.”
“Oh.” You can hear him push out a heavy breath.
What you said has him throbbing in his jeans. He massages your ass, one hand drifting down to grip your thigh and yank it open for better access. God, he can smell you—how fucking aroused you are right now. You’ve always been appealing, but now he wants nothing more than to see you split open on his cock so you can feel what you’ve done to him.
He rubs your back then taps your ass. “Move over and spread yourself open for me.”
You gawk at him over your shoulder, your entire body flooding with heat. “W-what?”
You’re sitting on your knees, looking him in the eyes, his gaze electrifying.
Levi lifts his hand and grabs your chin as he leans in. Suddenly, that soft mouth of his touches yours, and his tongue tastes you for the first time. Taken by him, you fall into his chest, widening your mouth, letting him take you even further.
A moment passes until his hand slithers between your thighs, fingers reacquainting themselves with that swollen bundle of nerves. You can’t help but moan down his throat, knowing damn well that was his intention from the start.
When he pulls away, your chin is still held between his fingers. He forces you to look him in the eyes.
“I said,” he breathes, low and gravely, gray eyes boring into you, “spread yourself open.”
Shit, he loves that innocent twinkle in your eye, nearly dimmed by how large your pupils have dilated. Of course you’ve been touched before, but no one has ever fucked you properly, have they?
Eager to please, you turn around and press your upper half into the mattress. Your t-shirt rides up to expose hints of soft stomach and waist, which Levi ogles before you lift your ass and part yourself with your hands.
He makes you remain like that for a moment. On your knees. Bared to him. So humiliating, yet you did it anyway.
You can feel the cool air prodding at both of your holes, and your clit pounds. You burrow your cheek into the couch cushion.
“Levi?” You call out, quiet.
“Yea, sweetheart?”
“A-are you gonna do anything?”
Levi caves in a second.
You feel his fingertip circling your entrance, pushing inside of you and curling against your ridged walls, but one isn’t enough. You need more. You need his cock to fill you up and stretch you out.
“Patience,” he replies, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. “Spread your legs further. Show me your cunt.”
Your ass wiggles as you shift, obeying his wishes by shoving your knees further apart.
Levi inhales, continuing to fuck you with one finger, leaving your clit untouched.
He sighs with delight. “I need a taste,” he insists. “Just give me a minute. Don’t come.”
You moan and nod.
“That’s right. Be a good little girl for Daddy, okay?”
Oh, fuck.
Your skin is on fire, and you can’t believe the way your cunt clenches at the words he just mouthed into the flesh of your ass. He kisses the festering marks, easing the burn with his tongue before suffocating himself in your scent. The pad of his tongue pushes flat against your folds. A low, borderline feral moan vibrates your sex, possessive and needy.
“O-oh,” you whimper, trembling. Of course Levi is skilled with his tongue. Never did you think he wouldn’t be. But imagining it and actually experiencing it are two different things.
His tongue slides through your folds, drawing circles over your clit. You feel the sturdy bridge of his nose you’ve imagined tracing with your finger, pressing hard against your entrance.
“Levi— “
“Nope. Try again,” he rasps. His hand gropes your ass, tongue continuing it’s circular pattern.
You nearly scream when he spanks you. Hard. Right over a spot that’s already tingling from earlier. Your body stiffens, still as lead.
“Daddy, please let me come.” The title feels foreign on your tongue, but there’s a familiar stirring in the pit of your stomach.
“Absolutely not, but much better. Good girl.”
You feel his lips gliding over your pussy, suckling softly on your clit. He enjoys working you up slowly, his jaw moving aggressively back and forth. Your hands falter and you lose your grip, a guttural moan of frustration leaving your lips.
Levi shoves your hands away as if they’re a distraction.
“Well, you’re doing a shit job at spreading yourself open,” he critiques. His hand comes down on your ass, twice on each side, and you stretch your arms out far to brace yourself by grabbing the armrest of the couch. Your teeth clench together.
“Fuck!” you squeal.
Levi roughly grabs between your ass and spreads you wide open for his mouth. You can’t help but push against him, coaxing him in deeper. Your eyes flutter shut when his warm tongue delves inside of you, lapping at your arousal, swallowing it.
“God… Daddy,” you whimper, “please.”
Levi pulls his mouth off your pussy, replacing his tongue with his palm against your folds. He rubs you slowly, his other hand coasting upward until he’s gripping your side. It doesn’t take you long to figure out he’s pulling you onto his hand, helping you move, like he’s silently asking—no begging—you to ride his hand like some needy creature.
You do it. You do it because it feels good. You’re so wet that your cunt easily glides over his fingers, and though your knees hurt, you don’t stop. Levi smirks behind you, eyes glazing over at the gorgeous image. His briefs are damp.
“Levi, I wanna come!” The airy, sweet cry works it’s way past your lips.
Levi grunts, “In a minute.”
His fist wraps around your hair and yanks you back into his firm chest.
You deflate with disappointment, close to tears while he wipes your slick on the front of your thigh. Lips latch onto your neck, nibbling then suckling. He kisses you on your pulse point where your heart thrums in your veins, and you can feel how hard and firm he is above your ass.
Those large but slender hands press open your inner thighs, moving up your body until he’s palming your breasts through your shirt and bra, then down again.
You watch through your lower lashes as he rolls the hem of your shirt up, revealing the matching white lace hidden underneath. Levi inhales and holds his breath.
Impatiently, he fondles your breasts through the material, licking a stripe up the side of your neck to your ear. His breath fans over the cusp.
“Perfect girl,” he sighs. “Did you plan for this, too? Was it part of your game?”
No, you want to tell him. You never imagined he would actually want you back. Never imagined he would take you here, tonight, right on this fucking couch.
“No, Daddy,” you respond. You bite down on your lip as he tugs down on the cups, freeing your breasts. Peaked nipples come into view and are quickly covered by his hands. A pulse seizes you from between your thighs, soothed by Levi’s fingers when he slips them down below.
Breast being massaged by one hand, and your pussy being massaged by the other, you shake against him. Sitting still is an impossible feat, especially when his fingers on your clit start to feel too good.
Gasping, you close your thighs around his wrist, stopping his movements.
“No, no,” he coos, forcing them back open. A swat lands on your inner thigh and your breast is squeezed painfully so. “Legs open for Daddy, sweetheart.”
Brows knitted together, your body moves at his command. Every last one of your thoughts drains from your head.
A warm, soft material prods at your lips. You don’t have time to register what it is before he’s pushing it past your teeth and holding his palm over your mouth. Air pushes through your nose. A muffled moan attempts to escape to no avail.
There’s a distantly familiar taste pinging on your tastebuds. It doesn’t take long to realize it’s you. Your arousal. And that stringy texture in your mouth is the lace from your ruined panties.
“Get these nice and wet,” he demands.
You grunt around the makeshift gag, twitching against Levi’s body as he rolls your nipple into a bud.
Moments later, he’s guiding your hands back onto the armrest and putting you on all fours. A hand lands comfortingly so on the small of your back, then he pushes you down. For a second time, he has your cunt bared and accessible. Your cheeks burn.
Levi holds his hand out in front of your mouth. “Now spit them out.” Obediently, you widen your lips and let the salvia-soaked wad of panties drop into his cupped palm. He murmurs something about a mess, then—
Your eyes snap wide open. A surge of dizziness sends your chin seeking balance on your forearm, and you moan freely as you feel the fabric being pushed against your entrance.
“You haven’t quite earned my cock yet,” he explains. “So this’ll have to do for now.”
“L-Levi, ah— “ You inhale sharply, feeling his fingers packing the pair of panties deeper inside of you.
“Stop squirming so much.”
You freeze, thighs quivering as he feeds in the last of the fabric. He waits until your cunt swallows the intrusion, before covering it with his palm. His eyes flicker upwards, lips twitching at the sight of your face. Your eyes are shut and your brows are frowned, mouth agape and stretched into a round shape.
“Is that full enough for you?” He asks.
It takes you a second to respond. “‘S not your cock,” you admit, licking your lips, “but it’s still good. Want you to fuck me, Lev’. So badly.” You turn around and crawl onto his lap.
“What a good little girl,” he exhales, cupping your pussy. The heel of his palm nuzzles your clit, and you dig your fingers into his wide shoulders, rocking forward. “Go ahead. Make yourself come all over my fingers.”
It takes no time at all for your climax to reach you, a noiseless moan crawling from your throat.
He kisses you right beside your ear, nose grazing your jawline. He speaks against your skin, “From now on, this is how you’ll be wearing your panties. Maybe you’ll be smart enough not to flash anyone this cunt, knowing I’m the one who keeps it stuffed. Got that?”
You swallow thickly, nodding your head. Another kiss lands on your neck, and he eases your breasts back into your bra and rolls your t-shirt back down your stomach. Your pleated skirt is yanked down then smoothed over your silky thighs, while your panties remain wadded inside, soaked from your slick.
He brings your hand between his legs, making you feel him. Then, he breathes, “Now, fix this.”
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howtoimpersonateanadult · a month ago
Hi! Do you have any posts on how to manage covid symptoms once you test positive? I'm not entirely sure on what to do!
First, a note about testing: With the Omicron variant, at home (antigen + antibody) tests are increasingly likely to show false negatives when testing early in the illness. Follow this procedure to reduce your risk of false negatives. Do not eat or drink for 30 minutes before a test.
If a home test is positive, try your best to get a PCR test as well if possible so you have documentation confirming the diagnosis in case you need it. If you develop long-term covid symptoms or other complications, your life will be a lot easier if you can prove you had covid. You may also want to contact your primary care doctor to inform them that you have tested positive for covid.
If you test positive on an at-home test but cannot get a PCR test, Google “report positive covid test” and the name of your area to find out who you must call to have your case officially counted and possibly contact traced.
When you know you have Covid-19:
In general, you should isolate yourself as much as possible from other people. Sleep and spend your days in a different room from people you live with, and try to spend as little time near others as possible. Sanitize high touch surfaces in shared bathrooms, if you must share a bathroom. Open windows can help reduce risk if you live with someone, especially if you can't isolate more than one closed door away.
Make sure the people you’ve spent time with recently know that you’ve tested positive, so they can isolate and test too.
Anyone you live with should isolate as though they have covid as well. If they can isolate completely separately from you, they may be able to quarantine for less time if they get a negative PCR test 5 days after the last time you could have exposed them.
Do not leave your home unless absolutely necessary for 10 days after you last have a symptom, or 10 days after you test positive on a PCR test, whichever is later.
Note: antibody tests may show false positives after you recover, because they are identifying the antibodies in your bloodstream, not the virus itself. If it’s at all possible to get a PCR test at the beginning and end of your quarantine, get one and save the results.
If you can’t get a PCR test at the end of your quarantine, consider quarantining a few additional days if it isn’t an unreasonable hardship.
If it's absolutely necessary to leave your home during your quarantine, wear an N-95 or KF-94 (or KN-95 if you can’t get those) mask, properly fitted tight against your cheeks, chin, and nose, and minimize the time you are around people, especially indoors and especially if they're unmasked - encourage anyone you will have to see to also wear one of these masks.
Disclose your positive status to anyone you must be around when you should be quarantining.
If you need to go to a doctor appointment while ill, contact your doctor before coming in to let them know you have tested positive for COVID-19.
If it's even remotely possible to stay home, you should do that.
You should expect to need symptom management similar to when you've had the flu or a bad cold - ask friends or get a delivery app to bring you cold medication, pain relievers, easy to make food, etc.
Drink lots of fluids and monitor your symptoms, and reach out to your doctor if you are concerned.
At this point in the pandemic, it’s a good idea to have a pulse oximeter on hand to monitor your blood oxygen levels, as a low blood oxygen level is sometimes the only sign that a covid infection has damaged the lungs.
Seek treatment immediately if your blood oxygen level stays under 95% even when you take (or attempt to take) long, deep breaths. (You should seek treatment if this happens even if you don’t have covid.)
If you go to the ER, you or someone you know should call ahead and let them know you have COVID-19.
If you are immunocompromised or immunosuppressed, or if you are not vaccinated, reach out to your doctor as soon as you have a positive test.
They will be able to tell you what you should be monitoring and whether there are treatments you should be receiving.
You can find out more information on medications available for COVID-19 here: https://www.health.harvard.edu/diseases-and-conditions/treatments-for-covid-19
However, most vaccinated people will be okay with just lots of fluids and some basic cold and flu medication. The main thing is to rest and not infect others.
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like-what-the-fuck-scoob · 5 months ago
Oversized (Bucky x Reader)
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Summary: Bucky x reader. You order an oversized hoodie in the mail, and your teammates are obsessed with how cozy it feels, especially Bucky.
Word Count: 1.1k
Content Warnings: Pure fluff. Hugging underneath clothes. Avengers tower fic.
A/N: This fic is a request for the lovely @cherry-season. Thank you for all your support and patience these last few weeks, you're a star! And I loved writing this prompt! As always requests are open, just drop me an ask or inbox me if you have an idea 💜
"Oh. My. God." You stifled a laugh as you stepped in front of your bedroom mirror.
You had ordered an oversized hoodie from an online clothing store, but you didn't expect it to be this big. It draped off you like a bed sheet, the sleeves hanging several inches below your wrists, and the bottom falling at your knees like a chunky sweater-dress.
"I mean... the colour is cute I guess?" You chuckled to yourself, gazing over the cherry coloured fabric.
"Y/N! Foods cooking!" Natasha's voice bellowed up the hallway.
"Okay! On my way!" You shouted, still turning your body in the mirror - you looked like a fluffy penguin. But it didn't matter, dinner was almost ready and you needed to head downstairs. Throwing your hair into a quick messy bun, you grabbed your phone and made your way to the living room, dressed in your new attire.
As you approached the lounge, you heard a loud giggle erupt from Natasha, who was perching against the door, drink in her hand.
"What on Earth are you wearing Y/N?"
"Well..." you stuttered, laughing as you went on to explain how you came to be donned in what looked like a red king sized duvet with arm holes.
"You could literally fit a person under there!" Natasha exclaimed as she lowered her head, straightening up against your under layer of a vest top and black leggings as her body seemed engulfed by your hoodie.
You chuckled at her closeness - she was right. Your friend was well and truly wrapped in the fabric.
"Hey guys!" Nat called to the rest of the room. "You gotta try this!"
Turning to face the others, you saw Wanda sitting at the small coffee table, and Tony watching television with Peter seated next to him, phone in hand. To your right, your two best friends Bucky and Steve, sprawled out on the large sofa as they shared the newspaper, catching up on the latest news.
You couldn't help but study Bucky's features as he shifted his gaze to you, following Natasha's words. He was one of your best friends, but you couldn't deny you were falling for him. His dark shoulder length hair framed his face as his piercing blue eyes found yours, goosebumps rising over your body, enamoured with your favourite super soldier.
His brows furrowed as he noticed your breathing hitch. You passed him a soft smile, a small gesture to say I'm fine, as you mentally kicked yourself for being so obviously affected by his company. You were sure he noticed. But it was Bucky, and with you, Bucky always noticed.
"Lemmie try!! It looks super toasty under there!" You broke out of your thoughts at the sound of Peter's voice. Padding over to you, he stuck his head inside your hoodie like an excited puppy. Tony was right, this kid really had no chill. Chortling against your under layer, he wrapped himself like a cocoon, only to emerge after a few seconds with a wide grin.
"Wow, Y/N, you need to wear this more often! You're like a walking radiator!"
Heading over to the last empty space on the sofa, you lay down next to Steve, who curiously peeked over his newspaper to catch a glimpse of the hoodie that had been causing such a ruckus.
"Oh, to be fair Y/N that does look cozy..." he smirked.
You sighed and shook your head with raised eyebrows and a half smile. "Go on then, I know you want too."
The Captain gave a low chuckle, and slid his hand respectfully under the cotton material, careful not to make contact with your skin or under layer. "Woah, it really is like a heated blanket under there."
"Hang on, I gotta try this." Wanda's voice echoed from the other side of the room, as she stepped over to you, squeezing her slim form on the sofa as she moved to face you. In true Wanda style, your friend ducked underneath your hoodie, enveloping you in a tight hug.
"Oh my God Y/N." Her words vibrated against your tank top, causing a giggle to escape your throat. "Tell me I don't have to leave. This is so snuggly."
"Wanda!" You yelled between laughs. "Get out you're making me ticklish!"
As Wanda returned to her seat at the coffee table, Natasha's voice rang out once again.
"Tonyyyy!" She sang. "C'mon you gotta try this."
"Nope. Absolutely not."
"Um..." The sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone's attention, and all eyes reverted back to... Bucky. "I-I'll try..."
Your heart skipped a beat as your best friend crawled across the couch, positioning himself at the edge of your new hoodie. Looking up at you for confirmation, you nodded sheepishly as he lifted up the material, and nuzzled his head against your torso.
Attempting to remain calm, you focused on taking some deep breaths, knowing full well that if your heart rate increased, Bucky would certainly feel it with his body pressed against yours.
"Mmm" The vibrations of his mouth sent shivers down your lower half. "I could stay here forever doll..."
Unable to contain the smile that crept onto your lips, you sighed in comfort. The look on your teammates faces seemed to share your sentiment, watching you with compassion and smirks of contentment.
"He's like a koala, isn't he?" Wanda whispered delicately, taking in Bucky's beefy physique, gripping to your torso like a baby bear.
Gazing upon the covered brunette with adoration, you began to smooth your fingers over the outer material of your hoodie, placing soft strokes and scratches to the area where his head was underneath.
His breathing began to sound regular and slow - relaxed. Internally cheering, you took it as a sign that he felt comfortable and became more generous with your soothing movements, Bucky's hands now snaked around your waist as he lay consumed in your hoodie.
A few minutes passed, your friends catching your eye with furrowed brows, as Bucky remained still, seemingly rooted to your midsection.
Soft snores escaped the sergeants lips as you felt his grip on you tighten. He was asleep. The man you love had fallen asleep on your chest, and it was even more adorable than you could have imagined.
"Uhhh, shall I wake him up?" Steve offered, concern lacing his tone.
Your gaze drifted to your Bucky, sleeping soundly against your warm form. For once, it seemed like all his trauma, all his fear, had subsided to be replaced by a reassuring, deep embrace. All because of you.
"No, no." You shook your head and smiled. "He can stay here for a while..."
Suddenly, your oversized hoodie didn't seem like such a joke anymore.
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taiyakimmy · 4 months ago
in your face (pt. 1) || batfam x batmom reader + the avengers
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✧・゚ Credits to the owner of the gif!
Summary: Learning how your old team, the Avengers once turned their backs on you during your lowest, your entire family couldn't pass up the offer of following you to New York, not when they have a feeling your old team is planning to reconcile with you.
Characters: Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Kate Kane, Barbara Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth, The Avengers & SHIELD (Mentioned)
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Angst with Fluffy Ending, Swearing, Humor, Protective BatFam!
A/N: Enjoy this short intro to the new four-part (+ sequel)* series! Read a lot of angst fics where the characters are trying to make amends with the MC. This piece won't be as angsty as your usual—a combo of fluff, angst, humor & reconciliation!  .
Disclaimer: This café owner & ex-agent Batmom is NOT canon to the café owner Batmom (who was never an agent) that I’ve always written. But for this fic, it's up to you, whether you want this Batmom & my usual Batmom to be the same!
↬ Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Masterlist
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"Thus, we're honored to invite both the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and the owner of Mother's Touch Café, Bruce Wayne and (Y/N) Wayne respectively, to the campaign," Bruce leaned in his office chair after reading the message aloud. He patiently waited for a response from any of the eight people in the room to which, as he expected, did not happen.
He, too, had to reread the email when it first arrived, especially since it came from the CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts.
None of his children commented. Either none of them dared to, or just didn't know what to say. Now, he had to explain how this had to do anything with you, other than being invited.
Oh no, it's so much more.
"Way before the café, she was affiliated with the Avengers at one point in her life," He didn't know if he should spare the details or lay it all out, but, based on their wide eyes at the newfound information, he got the idea that they'd rather hear from A to Z.
"An agent to be exact, and a good one at that, thanks to her knifemanship. They recruited her during their early Avengers days. She even told me she and the team became close," While he wasn't a big fan of the team, it's how fondly you spoke to him of the team before...
Well, about that...
"Then, another agent came into the picture," His voice grew low, which, everyone noticed, "I hate to say this but they started to think your mother's not very... cut out for the team anymore,"
Each and everyone's backs straightened, sadly knowing where this is going, although they hoped Bruce is only doing it for some sort of suspense-building. He wished, believe him, 'cause it took everything in him not to just call the Justice League or even any of them in the room with him to start a war. But, he kept his cool, knowing it's not something you would've wanted at all—gosh, bless your soul, (Y/N).
He paused before looking at them with a small but nonetheless proud smile. He knew he wasn't being dramatic for his protectiveness, not when he knew the 'gory' things some of them could do for your safety alone.
He's not trying to point any fingers, but yeah, he's talking about the 'mama's boy and girl', Jason and Cassandra, respectively.
Well, Damian too, if you think about it.
"Nothing ever worked between them, no matter what she did to be acquaintances at the very least," Just this sentence alone was enough for them to know that you're definitely not the one at fault.
Why? 'Cause no matter how much of a bitch that certain someone is, you, being a miracle to this godforsaken city, manage to work it out, thanks to not only your charm but most importantly—your patience. Your 'Princess of Gotham' title didn't come around so easily, y'know?
"Long story short, one mission went horribly and the agent was found injured and unconscious. Your mother, sadly, was at the wrong place at the wrong time," The offense in their faces would've been hilarious if the context had nothing to do with you being accused of hurting anyone, "SHIELD packed her stuff before they could even give her a chance after the so-called interrogation. Her team, her ex-team, didn't even ask her and she came straight back to Gotham,"
Bruce could tell this whole arc story of yours was giving mixed feelings—anger, especially, but not at you. How could they ever, when you're basically the family's personification of hope?
What would life even be if you stayed in New York?
"Months after she opened the café, SHIELD contacted her," Oh, it's not over yet? Refocusing on the father figure of the manor, he continued, "They found out the agent's been a part of some foreign terrorist group,"
HYDRA, if he's not mistaken.
"You could say she turned their offers down," As you should, they were a little too overjoyed by your decision. Did you feel some sort of pride when the team pretty much came crawling back, because your kids would.
Who would've thought that days after the call, Bruce stepped into the café for the first time?
"What happened to the agent, then?" Tim asked what's been in everyone's mind.
"Stripped off the agency and locked up," Bruce closed his eyes and sighed as if he had a long day. The weight on everybody's shoulders lifted, despite wanting to argue for the lack of punishment. Your life was nearly ruined and that bastard gets away with it? Sure, stuck behind bars, but alive? They could only hope the prison is the same level as Arkham Asylum or even Blackgate Penitentiary.
"Y'know what's funny?" Bruce questioned, although there was no sense of humor in his tone, "Even after all that, she pleaded me not to make a big deal out of it since the team didn't know truth,"
Well, of course everyone's going to make a big deal out of it! How can you sell yourself short this way?
"So, what I'm trying to say is, you're all welcome to join her and I to New York in a few weeks. You know how she'll love some extra company but she also wanted to let you know that if you can't make it, she'll understand,"
Oh nah, you expect them to leave you with the same people that turned their backs on you?
Hah! Not a chance, mother of ours!
In the end, all but Barbara and Kate agreed to tag along. As much as they'd like to join in, someone has to stay when most of them aren't around, especially Bruce. Soon, everyone dispersed, some went to their rooms while others left the manor for obvious reasons. Bruce relaxed in his seat, content at how well everyone's taking this, though he didn't expect his whole family to accept the offer but hey, the more the merrier.
He placed his hands behind his head, smiling at the thought of telling you about how everyone in the house is game to take a trip to New York.
Plus, this campaign might be a little fun, knowing Stark's going to be there. It wouldn't hurt anyone to flaunt you a little for finding a better life here, right?
All jokes aside, he couldn't help but recall the conversation he had with you a while ago. How you accepted Pepper's offer even when he saw your hesitance.
"I get it, I get it," Your smile was tight—forced, to be exact. Bruce tried not to grimace at your involuntary nature, "For the company. Yours and mine,"
He ran one hand down his face—the things you and him do for Gotham. They’re lucky they're dealing with two very calm and collected people to this little tea party of theirs. 
His guts’ just telling him that this visit isn’t just for the campaign alone, no. 
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Days have passed, and the media's been picking up on the upcoming event, so one could imagine how invasive the paparazzi have been, both from Gotham with the Wayne’s and New York with the Stark’s. Some of your kids, mainly Duke and Cass thanks to their free time, were kind enough to escort you home whenever the crowd’s been too much.
You've been fidgety since the big day's around the corner but one thing that makes up for it the fact that you're family's following!
As in, you didn't expect Jason and Dick to text you about it.
Bruce peeked his head in the bedroom, only to find you tilting your head at something on your phone.
"Everything okay?" He approached you and rested his hand on your back. You blinked before nodding.
"Yeah, Jason and Dick texted me," You showed him the screen and raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't like, twist their arms to get them to tag along, did you?" Your concerns was enough for Bruce to snort before shaking his head.
"No, they'd probably twist mine before I could ever get the chance. They told me they wanted to on the spot," You still seemed unsure. Dick, a bit surprising but you could understand, but Jason too? Bruce took your free hand, warming it between his, "You can ask them. Jason, especially, because even if I somehow managed to convince him, he'll only say he's doing it for you,"
Your heart fluttered, knowing how difficult it is to convince Jason, for others at least. But, for you? He either gives you a quick answer or he'll need a bit of time to think, which basically means he's doing whatever you asked him to.
What did I tell you—a mama's boy.
You took a deep breath and nodded slowly, unable to control the radiant smile everyone seems to love. Hey, you're going on a little trip with your entire family, live a little, (Y/N)!
"Come on, Alfred's got dinner ready," He gave you a reassuring kiss on the forehead before bringing you to the dining room with him.
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Wow, who knew time could move so fast when you're either enjoying or dreading the time of your life?
Bruce and the rest, minus Jason, of course, you'll meet him in New York, were hauling everyone's bags with the help of the chauffeur whereas you were still in the house, together with Kate, Barbara and Alfred.
"Take care of Gotham for us, alright?" You bent down and bear-hugged Barbara before giving the same amount of affection to Kate. It's only for a few days but you haven't left the city for a while, especially with your whole family. You don't doubt the girls would have this under control but with your mother instincts kicking in, how could you not worry?
"Call us whenever you're free!" Barbara grinned in hopes of calming your nerves. Kate, catching onto what Barbara was trying to do, gave you a thumbs-up.
"Send us some pictures," You chuckled at their requests before Damian called you over by the door to get ready. You gave him a quick 'just a sec' before turning to Alfred.
"Call us when trouble comes," Alfred curtly nodded like he usually he, but what you didn't expect him to do is placing both of his hands on your shoulders.
"You'll do great out there, Mistress (Y/N)," You couldn't help but reciprocate the smile and gave him a quick hug as well.
"Thank you, truly," You pulled away before rushing to the door. You knew the second you step your foot out of this house, there's no turning back.
It's now or never, (Y/N)!
✧・゚: END :・゚✧
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obey-me-rot · 9 months ago
You're Mine
A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.
It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.
A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.
As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.
Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!
Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!
Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.
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Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.
The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.
His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.
He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.
That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.
It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.
You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.
And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.
“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”
“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”
Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.
Might as well get rid of the pest now.
“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”
You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”
He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.
Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.
You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.
“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, “Next time at least warn me.”
“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”
The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.
That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.
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He had finally gotten you all to himself.
Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.
And inspiration did you give.
“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”
The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.
“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”
His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--
Only to see that you were gone.
Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.
There you were...talking with someone else.
He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.
“Are you taking a break?”
Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.
“MC, who is this?”
“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”
“Well we used to sit together...”
“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”
It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.
This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.
“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”
“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”
The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?
“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”
“A match made in hell, I would say.”
Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?
“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”
“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”
A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.
“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”
You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.
“And you had to bite me because of that!?”
“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”
He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.
The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.
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Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.
"Did you see the finale of it live?"
"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"
Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.
Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!
Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.
He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.
Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?
“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”
Nobody cared.
“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”
Stop talking!
“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”
Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!
Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--
No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!
Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!
People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.
His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.
You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.
That’s what he said but…
Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.
“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”
Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.
“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”
You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.
Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…
Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.
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“MC, here.”
Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.
“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”
You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.
This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.
The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.
Which made Satan break another pencil.
From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.
He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.
But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.
If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.
The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.
They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.
A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.
Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.
Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.
Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.
“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”
“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”
You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--
Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.
“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”
The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”
Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.
“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”
The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.
“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”
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Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.
“MC! Try this!”
Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!
Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?
Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.
This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.
So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!
Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.
“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”
The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.
“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”
This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.
“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”
Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.
“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”
Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.
“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”
The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.
Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.
“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”
“No it looks perfect on you! But--”
He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.
“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”
Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.
Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.
His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--
But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”
Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?
He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.
“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”
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If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.
“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”
Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.
Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.
He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.
Yet this one seemed rather...eager.
“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”
His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.
Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.
He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.
MC, pay attention to him!
This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!
He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!
People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.
Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.
Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?
They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--
“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”
Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.
So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?
“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”
You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.
“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”
Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.
“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”
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“So what did you want to talk about?”
Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.
“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”
And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.
“We’ve known each other for a while.”
Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.
“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”
The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.
“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”
He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.
So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.
“I know you have seven pacts already…”
Damn straight.
“But would an eight be too much for you?”
That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?
You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.
So go ahead, reject him.
“A pact? With me?”
What were you doing?
Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.
Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.
“I know I’m not like those brothers--”
Damn straight.
“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”
He wants to gag.
A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.
And you were to blame too, you know?
You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?
As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.
He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!
Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.
“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”
You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--
Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.
“I was in the middle of a call!”
“I know.”
“Then what was that about!?”
The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.
“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”
You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.
“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”
He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.
5K notes · View notes
matryosika · 12 days ago
Untitled #7
pairing — minho x reader
word count — 5.1 k of pure filth
includes — hard-dom!minho x bratty!reader, established relationship, hints of public teasing, mention of hand signals, mentions of kink negotiation, hints of free use, hints of cnc and forced submission (everything consensual!), use of pet names (slut, whore, puppy), mentions of safe word, dumbification, rough sex, dry-humping an inanimate object (plushie/stuffie), hair pulling, impact play (spanks, slaps), degradation, humiliation, drool/spit, oral sex (m), use of toys (buttplug), deepthroating, unprotected anal sex, creampie.
note — for context, this is the whole “minho fucking you in your childhood bedroom because you couldn't stop teasing him during a family dinner”. this might be one of my favorite things so fsr because it's hard dom minho. i mean, i have written stuff like this before but this one... i am not sure, i enjoyed it a lot! it's currently 5.30 a.m., i havent read this and english is not my first language so i apologize for any mistakes in advance...
please remember that i have a ko-fi so if you want to/able to leave me a tip for my work, i will highly appreciate it! (especially now, that college starts this monday 😭)
You knew better than to bother Minho.
You really did, you really knew better.
You knew better than to decorate one of your wrists during your sibling’s birthday dinner with that special bracelet he had gifted you, one that meant that —as long as you were wearing it— your body belonged utterly and completely to him. A bracelet that you both had negotiated as a sign that he could use you whenever he liked, whenever he wanted.
You knew better than to keep on pushing his buttons, better than keep on teasing him even when he brushed his middle and ring finger against the right side of his jaw twice in less than 10 minutes.
You knew better than to rest a hand on his thigh, than to caress it innocently every time your family asked him questions about his private life.
You knew better than to make him angry, but you couldn’t stop indulging yourself.
“What happened down there?” Minho asked you as soon as he closed the door of your old bedroom behind him, trying to keep his voice low but failing almost immediately as the built-up anger took the best of him.
“What do you mean?” you replied, nonchalantly.
“You know what I am talking about,” your boyfriend warned you, following your figure through your bedroom. “Don’t pull that on me right now”.
“I really have no idea, Min,” you pouted, your gaze finding his through the reflection of the mirror.
“I know you are smart enough to reply to what you are being asked,” Minho’s cold voice made you shudder, but you were determined to see how long he could last without having the tiniest bit of control over you. “Don’t think that because your parents are sleeping in the next room I won’t make you talk”.
“I have no idea and the truth is, I am feeling very sleepy to try to guess,” you replied, completely ignoring your boyfriend’s jaw clenched and the bulge between his legs. “We have a long trip tomorrow and the last thing I want is to lose sleep time over whatever it is you have going on”.
Oh, how you loved that game.
How you loved to make him angry, teasing him and turning him on only to act all innocent and oblivious to the matter.
It was just too... exciting.
“And I suggest you do the same thing,” you continued, untying your hair in front of your old vanity before your hands reached out to unclench the pearl necklace you had decided to wear that evening, “because you are the one who is going to drive”.
“You should’ve stopped the first time I warned you,” Minho hissed with a cold tone, one that was maybe too relaxed in contrast to his tense body. “How many times did I ask you to stop?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged your shoulders, grabbing your hair comb after removing the pair of earrings you were wearing. Removing any jewelry but the bracelet. “I wasn’t even paying attention to you”.
“Ah, you weren’t?” he asked you while rising an eyebrow, both of his arms leaning on the chair you were sitting on.
“No, I wasn’t,” you teased him back with a grin on your face. “I was too busy chatting with my family to try and mess with you, Min”.
Minho licked his lips while he stared deep into your eyes through the mirror.
He hated that feeling. The feeling of not being in control.
He hated the feeling of you talking back to him instead of submitting almost automatically as soon as he laid his eyes on you.
He hated those times where you acted like he was out of his mind, treating him like everything was being made up by him when —in reality— it wasn’t.
He just couldn’t bear it.
But he also knew you better than you knew yourself.
He knew it was all a façade, one that fell as soon as he forced you into submission.
And he would be lying if he said that forcing you —instead of you submitting naturally for him— wasn’t ten times more satisfying than the latest.
“Ask me to forgive you for the deranged act you put up down there and I’ll forget your filthy behavior without punishing you,” he threatened you, his eyes following your image that walked from the vanity to the edge of the bed.
And, as you sat down, you couldn’t help but let out a faint scoff.
Knowing he especially hated those.
“Why do I have to ask for your forgiveness?” you queried, offering him a mocking grin. “It is not my fault that you get hard with the bare minimum”.
You knew you were signing your sentence, but you didn't care. You wanted to see how far your loving, sweet, caring, and perfect boyfriend —as your family had complimented him during the dinner— could go, and you were determined to find out.
“Did you forget who you are talking to?” he asked you, walking towards your figure and standing right in the middle of your parted legs. “Don’t make me fuck you to remind you”.
Another scoff and Minho swore you were driving him to the edge.
Your mischievous eyes traveled from his face to his growing bulge, smiling with cockiness while your gaze returned to his. “I don’t think that is enough to make me remember a thing”.
You emphasized the word that with such hatred and arrogance while signaling his crotch with your head that Minho’s first impulse was to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back so you would have no other option than to keep the eye contact with him.
“Say that again,” he groaned cocking one of his eyebrows while he parted his lips, waiting for you to talk back. However, instead of replying, you caught Minho’s attention by fidgeting with the gold bracelet on your right wrist.
“You get to set the boundaries,” Minho had told you while locking the piece of jewelry around your wrist.
“No boundaries,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the way the material of the bracelet shined. “As long as I am wearing it, you can do whatever you want with me”.
“What if you don't like what I want to do with you?” he asked you, caressing the skin on the back of your hand.
“Well, we have a safe word for that, don't we?”
It didn't take him more than three seconds for that switch to flip inside of him. As soon as he saw the way you were playing with the piece of jewelry, he realized that it was okay for him to assert his dominance. Even better, that you were okay with him forcing you into submission.
With a swift movement, he slapped one of your cheeks roughly. It happened too fast that you didn't even realize it until you felt the stinging feeling under your skin, one of your hands instinctively flying to try and soothe the pain.
“Say that again,” he repeated, lifting both of his eyebrows while he looked down on you.
“I said,” you stuttered, but it was now too late to take your words back. “That your cock isn't enough for me”.
While still gripping a fistful of your hair, Minho dragged your whole body from the edge of the bed to the floor, forcing you to kneel in front of him. Your hair and clothes got messed up as you struggled against him, your mind being ready to surrender to submission even though your body was still fighting back to prove to him that he had no control over you.
“If my cock is not enough,” Minho hissed, aligning your head against his crotch with one hand while the other unbuckled his pants to release his throbbing dick, “You wouldn't mind if i used you like a fleshlight, would you?”
“I've had bigger things in my mouth,” you hissed at the pain of feeling his hand buried in your hair. “It's not like I can't take something as small as you”.
Oh, you were going there.
For any person outside the relationship, it would seem as if you thrived on humiliating your partner. Truth is, it was the complete opposite: you hated it.
But saying such things was the only way Minho would do almost anything to shut your mouth up.
If you were to tell him that he was very soft on you, he would fuck you harder.
If you were to tell him that he wasn't capable of making you cum, he would spend the whole night giving you orgasm after orgasm until you begged for him to stop.
If you were to tell him that he wasn't big enough for you, he would make sure to fuck all of your holes until you forgot your own name.
“Ah, so you have taken bigger cocks?” he groaned, gathering your hair in a ponytail and pushing your head all over his length. “Then why are you gagging around mine like a useless whore?”
Your eyes were closed shut and your nails digged into the fabric of his pants as you tried to breathe but –even when you couldn't– you didn't want him to stop.
“Those guys didn't train you enough, from what I can tell,” he hissed, trying hard to maintain his voice low to prevent anyone outside the room from hearing the lewd noises you both were making –even though a part of him did want them to hear–. “You can barely fit half of my cock without crying”.
Minho continued thrusting his cock inside you with absolutely no mercy until he felt your hands squeezing his thighs a bit harder than usual, letting him know that you needed to catch a breath.
He harshly took his length out of you, making you inhale and gasp just as loud as the gagging sounds that were leaving your mouth just a few seconds before.
“Do you still think I am not big enough for you?” he groaned, offering you a twisted smile. “Do i have to keep on fucking your mouth until you are drooling all over yourself like the dumb puppy you are?”
Even though a part of you still wanted to put up a fight, you were too caught up in trying to stabilize your breathe that you choose not to reply to his answer.
Still, you couldn't miss the opportunity to push him just a bit more.
“Don't you feel ashamed?” you asked him with broken words, the corners of your lips lifting in a twisted smile while he looked down on you. “That you take pride on being always the one in control, yet you ended up like this just because I wanted you to?”
“You should feel more embarrassed,” he immediately replied, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look up to him while both of your hands jerked him off with your drool as lube, “because you can't sit to have dinner with your lovely family like a decent human being without thinking about having a big cock inside your cunt”.
“Not yours though,” you teased him once again, smiling proudly once you felt his cock twitching between your hands.
“Not mine?” he queried, roughly pulling your head back as he tightened the grip he had on your hair. “You weren't thinking about me bending you over the dinner table and fucking you in front of everyone?”
You shook your head, giving him doe eyes while you tried your best to fake innocence.
“You weren't thinking about me showing your parents how much of a slut their daughter is?” You shook your head again. “From how bad you were teasing me, it looked like you wanted your whole family to know how good you are at taking cocks inside your holes”.
“Ha, is that what you were thinking about?,” you mumbled, sticking your tongue out to brush it against the tip of his cock. “What a perverted mind you have”.
“Do you know why we get along so well, y/n?” he asked you, taking advantage of your opened mouth to spit on it.
“Because you are obsessed with me?”
“Because you are just as sick as I am,” he replied, completely ignoring your silly –but accurate– answer. “Otherwise, why would you wear that bracelet tonight?”
You looked at the piece of jewelry and then at him, unable to give him a proper answer.
“Because you are a fucking slut,” Minho smiled, cock throbbing between your hands while your blazing gaze fixed on his.
“And still not yours,” you breathed, feeling the wetness between your legs increasing as Minho shot you a killer gaze. One that reminded you how bad you had behaved during the dinner and how rough your punishment was going to be.
But truth is, you were ready.
And needy.
And completely desperate for him to have you however he wanted.
“Take off your panties,” he commanded you, leaving your figure to walk towards your bed.
There was something so forbidden about fucking you in your childhood bedroom, one that you had used until you turned 18 and moved to your current city.
The innocence, the taboo, the knowledge of knowing you had never thought you would do something this filthy inside this room was both eerie and arousing, but he just couldn't hate that sensation.
As you waited for his next command, his eyes scanned the plushies aligned in front of your pillows. However, there was one resting on a chair that captured his attention more than the rest.
It caught his attention because it was perfect for the twisted idea he had in mind, so he lost no time into bringing it to the bed.
“Do you want to play?” you mocked him, your eyes following every single one of his movements as he placed the plushie against the mattres while he pushed the rest of them out of the bed to make more space. “You can play with any of then except the koala, that's my favorite”.
Again, the nonsense falling from your lips only bothering him much.
“Get on top of it,” he mumbled. “And hump it until you cum”.
Your eyes probably opened up like plates because Minho's next action was to let out a faint scoff.
“Didn't you want to be punished? You were practically begging for it,” he muttered, looking how you placed both of your knees on top if the bed while you straddled the plushie.
Any other person would think that humping a pillow or an object as a punishment wasn't as bad as other practices but –to you– it was.
You hated such punishment not only because it took you hours to cum just by that, but also because it made you feel pathetic.
Minho, on the other hand, loved the latest.
He loved how desperate you looked each time he commanded you to hump your own pillow. He loved how you would move your hips sloppily against it because of how hard you were trying to find that spot that could guarantee you the tiniest bit of stimulation. He loved how dumb you looked while you started to cry in the middle of it, begging for him to help you cum.
And he loved knowing it embarrassed you. After all, that was the reason why he had chose it as a punishment.
“You have 10 minutes,” Minho hissed, tilting his head towards your bed. “But knowing how turned on you are, if you work hard i think you can reduce that number to 5”.
The thug image you had put on was slowly fading away and it was now being replaced with shame.
But still, saying you weren't turned on by it was a filthy lie that neither you nor Minho believed.
So, as he waited for you to get on all fours on top of the stuffy, he walked towards one of the bags he had carried for the trip to your hometown.
“You know I can't cum with this,” you whimpered, feeling your clit grazing against the fabric of the cuddly toy.
“Oh, i know,” he replied, his hands lurking in the front pocket right before his digits made contact with the cold metal of the buttplug he had packed just in case. “That's why i am giving you an advantage”.
Your face turned to face his figure walking from the area of the vanity to your bed, the weight of it sinking ever so slighlty as he placed a knee on top of it.
You waited patiently for him to do his next moves, but the humiliation was almost eating you alive. You were on all fours, on top of a plushie that you could hardly recall who had given it you, with your dress all messed up and your nipples grazing against the fabric of such toy.
But it was such a sight for Minho, who was carefully pouring a generous amount of lube on the heart-shaped buttplug you utterly adored.
“This is the time where you regret being such an ungrateful whore,” he mumbled, teasing your ass with the tip of the toy. “I packed this especially for you, yet you still wanted to act like a brat with me”.
Soon, you felt pressure on your tightest hole and you couldn't help but let out a painful whimper as you felt the toy stretching you out.
“Don't forget where you are, y/n,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses on your naked arse. “One loud noise and you are going to wake up your parents”.
You closed your eyes while your head fell down against the plushie, and it was only then where you started to regret your actions of the evening.
Fucking Lee Minho, you are so good at playing this game.
“10 minutes,” your boyfriend reminded you, sitting right next to you. “You either make yourself cum with that or you don't get to cum at all for a month”.
You gasped as your heartbeats started to pick a faster rhythm, your hips instinctively grinding against the fabric of the stuffy while your mind was completely clouded with his threat.
And as regretful as you were feeling, there was not much you could do to avoid the punishment.
Maybe if you had beg for forgiveness when he asked you...
“9 minutes,” he clicked his tongue, his eyes diverting from the chronometer on his cellphone to your image.
“It's not– enough”, you quietly whined, your hips trying to do the job but the softness of the object beneath you preventing you from getting almost any stimulation. “I really can't”.
“That is not my problem, is it?” he asked you while tilting his head, one of his hands reaching out to caress your face before placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You asked for a lesson and that's what I am giving you, y/n. You don't get to complain”.
“Just– is just useless,” you cried, feeling frustrated because not even the stimulation on your hardened nipples nor the buttplug inside your ass were enough to get you to cum fast.
You were doomed because you needed Minho for that.
Whether it was his hands, fingers, mouth or cock, you needed him in order for you to cum in under 10 minutes. Otherwise, it would take you more, and you both knew it.
“You are not trying hard enough,” he huffed, looking how your hips moved sloppily against the plushie and how your glossy eyes were threatening him to start tearing up at any second. “To me, it looks like you don't want to cum for a while month”.
“No, no, i want to–”
“Keep your voice down,” he muttered, “you are being too loud. Do you want to wake up your parents?”
You shook your head.
“Then be a good slut, keep that pretty mouth of yours close and focus on what I asked you,” he commanded you, giving you soft spanks while your body moved mercilessly against the stuffy.
“7 minutes”.
It felt an utter torture. The stimulation was there, your ass was being stretched by a butt plug and it felt good. Your hardened nipples were grazing against the fabric of the plushie and that made you wetter, but there was still something missing.
Your clit brushed against the soft object ever so slightly and it was driving you insane. No matter how much you changed positions or how aggressively your hips moved against it, the stimulation wasn't enough to get you to cum.
Worst part was that, not even for a second you doubted Minho's words.
You had pissed him off and these were the consequences you were doomed to pay.
“3 minutes,” Minho whispered, “And you are not even close, y/n”.
“I told you I can't do it,” you groaned quietly, muffling your anger against the stuffy. “You know I need more”.
“Oh, trust me, I know,” he replied, the calmness in his voice only fueling your despair even more. “With you being such a hungry whore, it is obvious you need your cunt filled for you to cum”.
You looked at him with teary eyes, hoping that he would have mercy on you and help you to cum –at least– one last time before your punishment.
“But do you think you deserve it?” he asked you, ruining every bit of hope inside you. “Do you think you deserve the privilege of having my cock inside your pussy?”
Your head fell down and your sore thighs tried to do the last effort before the time was over.
Minho, however, had other plans in mind. His eyes left your figure to focus in the numbers on his cellphone screen.
“You don't deserve to have me fucking your pussy,” Minho breathed, pausing the chronometer while he lowered his pants and underwear again. “But I do deserve some relief for putting up with that bratty attitude of yours, don't you think?”
You looked at him confused.
“You are going to fuck your ass with my cock while you keep on grinding your plushie,” he hissed quietly, his hands maneuvering the buttplug out of you while his hard cock twitched at the sight of your throbbing hole. “If you manage to make me cum, then I will reconsider the one month punishment”.
Having Minho fucking your ass seemed like a reward for both parties, but it truly wasn't.
Or at least not when your parents where sleeping right next door.
“Is this enough reminder for you?” he asked you, the tip of his cock pressing against your tightest hole. “Or do I have to add more things to the equation so you can learn to be a respectful slut?”
You were now choosing to be quiet –something you should've done from the beginning– but Minho couldn't really complain because that only proved how he got back the power over you.
So, while having your face buried on the stuffy underneath you, Minho's hips pushed his length covered in lube slowly inside you.
“Oh my fucking g–” you gasped quietly, feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks once you felt his balls hitting against your slit.
“It's all up to you y/n,” Minho groaned, placing both of his hands on your hips, “If someone hears us, it's going to be your fault”.
After a few seconds of just biting the toy to muffle your painful whines and trying to get used to his girth inside your ass, your body started to move slowly along his length and over the plushie.
Slow, painfully slow but still as pleasent for Minho.
“There you go,” he hissed with a clenched jaw, his body completely still while yours moved back and forth on his length. “How do well-trained puppies like you say?"
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“Thank you”.
As embarrassing as it was, it didn't take you long for the familiar feeling on your lower abdomen to show up. The feeling of Minho's cock combined with the little stimulation on your bundle of nerves against the toy was now almost enough for you to be able to cum.
“Come on,” Minho huffed, condescendingly. “I know you can do better”.
“I am trying, it's just–” the breath got caught up in your throat as your weak body moved against Minho's, still with hope of chasing that precious climax that would guarantee you a good night of sleep.
However, you were too focus on not making any noise that you could hardly enjoy yourself.
“Fuck I just– can't keep quiet,” you groaned, moving your hips in circular motions. “I really– can't”.
“You don't have to,” Minho hissed, his body moving just slightly against yours. “Unless you don't care about your parents finding out how filthy their precious daughter is, you don't have to be quiet”.
You rolled your eyes in annoyance.
“But if you need any help with that,” his whole body leaned over yours, making his dick reach the deepest spots inside your hole while you let out a painful moan that was quickly muffled by Minho's hand over your mouth, “this is better, right?”
Minho, who promised himself to maintain his self-control, broke that silly promise to fuck your ass just like you truly deserved it: rough, hard and filthy.
And now, the task of being quiet was nearly impossible.
“You filthy slut,” Minho groaned against your ear, ruthlessly slamming his cock inside your ass. “I gave you two opportunities to redeem yourself yet you can't do anything on your own, can you?”
You cried against his hand, muttering an “I am sorry” that drowned against his skin.
“But I can't blame a whore like you for it,” he continued, feeling how your tight walls hugged him just right. “Because I know that the minute you get turned on, you are unable to think about anything else but my cock”.
Now you were close.
And it wasn't the lack of stimulation on your clit or the emptiness of your holes that were holding you back from cumming, no.
His words were what you needed to cum.
Being humiliated and degraded by him was what you needed to cum.
And god, how you hated yourself for it.
“Minho–” you hummed against his palm, your tears getting lost between your cheek and his wrist.
“Are you really cumming from being fucked in the ass, y/n?” he softly groan, hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “I thought you said my cock wasn't enough for a hungry slut like you”.
You whimpered against him, feeling the wetness of your cunt soaking the toy underneath you while Minho increased the pace of his thrusts.
“Don't you feel dirty?” he asked you, trying hard to keep his voice down. “Of having your boyfriend fucking you in this bed?”
You were closer.
“Only a filthy slut like you would beg to have his ass fucked while her parents are sleeping right next to her room,” he hissed and, as ready as he was to cum, he wanted you to be the first one. “And as the perfect boyfriend I am, I will never hesitate to satisfy a dumb slut like you”.
Minho's hand pressed harder against your mouth while you cried, feeling the waves of pleasure traveling from the tip of your toes throughout your whole body.
He had fucked your ass a few times before, but the feeling of how hard you clenched around him every time was always overwhelming.
“And as the good slut you are,” he groaned, slamming his cock inside you at the end of every word, “you are going to take all my cum inside your ass, isn't that right?”
You weakly nodded against his hand, your eyes rolling to the back of your head while the overstimulation hit you.
“Good girl,” he groaned with broken syllables, filling your ass up to the brim with his sticky arousal.
He leaned down to hide his face on the crook of your neck while he came, afraid of being too loud to wake up any other person inside the house.
And he stayed that way for a while, the ruined plushie underneath you while his body was pressing on top of yours against it.
After a few minutes of heavy panting, loud heartbeats and sweaty bodies, Minho stood up from the bed.
“Are you still upset?” you weakly asked him, your sore body still resting on tip of the comfortable toy.
Minho let out a faint laugh.
“I was never upset,” he replied, looking for some towels and a bottle of water inside his bag.
“You weren't?” you asked him with furrowed eyebrows, trembling at the feeling of his warm touch against your lower back while he cleaned yourself up.
“Why?” he queried, caressing your skin. “You really thought this whole time you were in control?”
Your body rolled to the side, your back meeting the mattress as you stared at Minho.
“No but, I–”
“You thought you wanted to make me angry so that we would end up like this,” he cooed, opening the water bottle for you as he cleaned the remains of the lube on his cock with the towel. “But the whole time I was playing along because I wanted the exact same thing”.
You shot him a killer look, one that made you feel that your efforts in trying to make him mad were not good enough.
“So you weren't mad because I teased you?”
“I mean–,” he responded, reaching out for the water bottle. “At some point I was angry because being hard in front of my girlfriend's parents is not that pleasent but–”.
You let out a soft laugh at his comment.
“Nothing I couldn't control”.
“I really thought I had nailed it this time,” you sighed, your eyes blinking in slow motion as the sleepiness took control over you.
“Try harder next time,” he teased you, offering you a mischievous smirk, “And I might end up fucking you harder as well.”
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sukirichi · 9 months ago
good girl (m.)
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You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.
request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)
cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning
note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen​ ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)
[part of the trophy wife collection]
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Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?
The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.
Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.
He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.
You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.
“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”
Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.
He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”
“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”
Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.
The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?
He fucking loved it.
Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.
You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.
Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.
“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.
Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.
“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”
“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.
Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”
“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”
“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.
You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.
Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”
“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”
“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.
Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.
You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”
Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”
“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.
“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”
He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.
Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”
You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.
Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.
Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.
But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.
Fuck, you’d never felt so full.
However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”
“I-I will!”
Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.
Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.
“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.
Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.
“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”
Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”
“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”
“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”
“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.
You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.
He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.
Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.
His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.
You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”
“Same as usual.”
That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.
“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”
Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”
“Do you love me?”
You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”
However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.
“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”
“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“But why?”
“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”
Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”
“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”
“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.
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kitmoas · a month ago
One Last Mission
Summary: You've been dating Kate for over a year now, and it has been amazing. You're just a little sad that she always leaves for missions during the holidays.
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader, Yelena Belova x Reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena (Platonic)
Genre: Smut (but maybe some fluff ish? somewhere in there)
Word Count: 2990ish
Warnings: Daddy Kink, Choking, Degradation, alludes to size kink, cuckholding, alludes to slight noncon, Strap-on (r!receiving), weapon use
*Let me know if I missed any!* A/N: This is my first fic/drabble thing! This is not following Yelena being asexual or aroace in comic form!! This is fanfiction and shouldn't be taken that seriously in regards to comic cannon. Been wanting to write for a while and the inspiration came from @caroldantops (Thanksssss) *Minors DNI* **18+ Only **
“Katttttttie, c’mon. It's Christmas. We gotta go out, live a little. Have fun.” For the past year your girlfriend has been working with her childhood hero, and usually spends Christmas working. It was cute and you were immensely happy for her, but it was starting to get frustrating. She wouldn’t even take you out ice skating or to get hot chocolate, anything to spend just a little time with her. You knew that there was a large pile of presents hidden upstairs under the bed that you’ve been basically sharing every night for the past 5 months. Each perfectly wrapped box screamed an apology for every night that you had to spend alone in Kate’s apartment, terrified that she wouldn’t make it home.
“Babe you know I need to finish this mission. Clint is depending on me. I cannot let him down.” The archer barely looks up at you from across the room where she’s building extra trick arrows. Clint had slowed down making them for Kate, insisting that she needs to supply her own weapons.
A low sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it, irritation growing within. Anger had always been your issue but you tried your hardest to never take it out on your girlfriend. She had to deal with enough angry and aggressive people in her line of work, no need for her to have to deal with them when she comes home to you. Outside of her missions she was perfect, gave you everything you needed, and made sure that you were always feeling well loved.
No matter how quiet you were, your sounds of annoyance were reaching Kate’s ears over and over again. Nervousness was overloading her system though, and she had no real patience to deal with you; not when this mission was so important. You weren’t paying much attention to her actions anymore, having lost all interest in her building instead taking interest in pouting at the ceiling. Focused on self-loathing you didn’t hear Kate’s light footsteps approaching, but a sharp hand in your hair forced your eyes to the surprisingly sharp ocean eyes. “I will not tolerate your brattiness today, babygirl. I need to focus and then my attention will be back onto spoiling you. Understand?”
The urge to laugh at your normally soft and loving girlfriend was strong, especially with your frustration lately, but you knew that the soft but firm threat wasn’t fake. “Yes..” A single eyebrow raise was all it took “...Daddy”. The hand immediately left your hair, smoothing it back down and your archer’s lips gently resting on your forehead.
“I gotta go baby, Clint is waiting on me” A tinge of regret is in her voice, softening the blow of your girlfriend leaving you all alone on Christmas Eve. A slow nod was all you could muster, relishing in the feeling of her lips still on your forehead. You closed your eyes as tears threatened to escape, a sob suddenly stuck in your throat. The urge to grab your archer and never let go was strong, but with a click of her tongue Lucky jumped up next to you. “I love you babygirl, I promise this is the last one for the year. You and Lucky will have me all to yourselves after this. I’ll order you some dinner on my way to Clint’s, and you just cuddle our boy here.” You're so focused on not breaking down that you barely register what Kate is saying to you, only the unsteady breath at the end of her sentence hits your ears. It echoes in your mind. One last kiss on your head causes a few tears to leak down your cheeks, Lucky immediately licking at your face as Kate sadly smiles at him. You don’t say anything as she turns, picking up her equipment. You don’t even say anything as she whispers that she loves you again before she walks out the door, the Bishop Security locks and system engaging immediately.
The rest of the night was solemn but calm, Lucky spent the entire night attached to your hip. Kate, as usual, kept her promise with DoorDash delivering you and Lucky a large array of food from the fancy pizza place. She always made sure you never went without anything you could ever need or want. You knew that she wanted you to enjoy the nicer food, and that this was her unspoken apology once more, but even as Lucky gobbled down his pizza nothing could make you smile. Standing to grab another slice Lucky immediately started to whine, “Damn Pizza Dog, you already have yours”. Pushing him away, you begin to carry your slice upstairs but Lucky starts to growl fidgeting in his spot. Raising your eyebrow at him, glancing quickly at the security panels to see that the system is still engaged with no issues the entire night, you sigh and send him to his place to relax. “Mom will be home soon buddy.” The mumble barely makes its way out of your mouth as you doubt the truth of your statement, staring at the ground as you walk into the bedroom. What you didn’t see was a dark figure sitting perched on the window sill, watching you silently.
Bending over to look at the desk in the corner, you smile finding a note from Kate to you. “Don’t worry baby girl, it’ll all be worth it in the end. I’m yours and you have my heart. -your Archer <3” Your eyes once again welled up with tears, sighing as you put down the note and the pizza. She’s going places, amazing places, and you aren’t ever going to give up your seat to watch her change the world.
“Y/N Y/LN, you should really be more careful” Your entire body tenses, glancing at the security system. A low chuckle causes you to spin around, picking up the letter opener that was on the desk; wielding it as Kate has taught you.
There sits Yelena, a smug smirk on her face, now on the bed. Confusion floods your body and your hand with the letter opener starts to falter. “How did you get in here?” Kate’s best friend has always had a way to bypass just about anything, getting whatever she wanted regardless of consequences or difficulty.
“I have my ways, now how about you be a good girl and put that down.” A second of hesitation flashes before your eyes, unsure of the possibility of a threat. You barely have time to flinch before Yelena is on you, her Widow bite charged and against your neck. “Sluts do not think. They take what is given and do what is told. No hesitation, cопляк.” The sound of the letter opener falling is muted against the blood rushing through your body.
“Yelena please, why are you doing this? Kate is your best friend. I thought you were working with her and Clint now? I thought we were over the blind rage?” Your voice comes out entirely too quiet for your liking, shaking and rushed. Yelena backs you up against a wall, one hand rubbing along your collarbone. The Widow bite trailing down your body, leaving goosebumps in its path. Your thoughts scream out for Kate to come rushing in, to talk sense into Yelena; someone who you personally have gotten close to in the last year.
Loud and harsh, laughter rings aggressively in your ears. “Who’s going to stop me? Your Daddy? Please, Принцесса your Daddy would love to watch this. Don’t you think so?” The hand near your throat reaches up, her hand wrapping perfectly around. The pressure on your throat slowly increases, she leans in close to your ear “If the dumb slut is too stupid to think of an answer, why don’t you ask your Daddy?” A mockingly tender kiss is left right on your jawline, a slight pressure forcing your head to the left to look into the corner. There sits Kate, ropes wrapped around her body and some sort of gag in her mouth.
“Kate!” Struggling against the Russian Widow was pointless but nothing else mattered besides trying to get to your archer. A slight shake of Kate’s head halts you in your place, the pressure around your throat starting to get a bit too much at your struggle.
“Oh detka, Kate Bishop loves this. Someone to finally put Daddy’s little brat in their place.” The hand that had been mapping out your body ghosted over the top of your leggings. “I wonder if this excites you? Knowing you're about to be fucked until you’re crying, right in front of your precious Daddy.” Cold fingertips slip under the elastic, slowly sliding down to your covered center. “Awww the poor slut is soaked.”
Embarrassment floods your system with your eyes trained on Kate. Your arousal is overwhelming, but shameful. You had always wanted to be taken roughly, wanted to be used. Kate, for everything she is, has always struggled to get rough with you; fear of going too far stopping her from doing anything too aggressively.
A single press to your aching clit forced a moan, your head falling back against the wall behind you. “You think your pussy is ready for my cock? Just from being pushed around a little? Hmmm Принцесса?” Yelena pushes closer to you, rutting purposefully. She’s packing, and it’s by no means small. A pathetic whine is the only answer she receives, subconsciously clenching around nothing.
You don’t even realize she’s moving you, her finger rubbing tight circles on your clit is incredibly distracting. Trying to focus your eyes back onto Kate, trying to see if she’s okay but landing face first into the soft purple blanket on your shared bed prevents you from seeing her face. You don’t have much time to think about it when you feel rough hands pulling at your hips. Subconsciously you lean up on your hands and knees, your eyes scanning quickly to your archer. Surprisingly she’s not struggling though she did escape from the gag at some point. She’s watching the two of you intensely, a lip pulled between her teeth and a faint blush had traveled up her neck.
“See detka, your Daddy is loving this.” Mid sentence Yelena slides two fingers pathetically slow into you, chuckling as your hips move trying to make her move faster. “As it seems you are too. You’re looking quite needy, slut. I don’t even think my entire hand is enough for you, is it? You need my cock.” Her fingers were dragging through your folds agonizingly slow, making an absolute mess. Kate’s eyes were focused on her fingers, watching every single movement.
The warmth of Yelena’s body disappears as she gets off the bed, a needy whine passes your lips before you can stop it. “Жалкая шлюха” Yelena mumbles as she crosses the room to Kate, cutting the rope. Hushed whispers are exchanged briefly before the blonde spins back around with a smirk. “As requested” Her hand travels down her body swiftly unzipping her body suit to reveal the biggest strap you had ever seen.
Getting back on the bed, she grabs your hair pulling you up against her. She’s whispering in your ear, but you pay no attention to her; your eyes solely on your Archer. Kate is leaning in the chair now, thighs rubbing together. Her grip on the chair is tight as her body is tense. Her eyes are blown, the deep blue barely noticeable. Getting lost in watching Kate, you missed directions from Yelena. Patience is not a skill that the Russian excels at, and the ripping of your leggings brings you back.
Face meets bed once more when you’re pushed roughly back onto the bed, nails dragging down your back harshly. Red marks burn in their wake. “You really need to remember who is in charge here. Your Daddy is just as needy as you, cопляк. Now be a good girl and take what I give you.” Pushing yourself up onto your elbows was the last thing you were able to process before Yelena was rubbing her large strap-on through your folds. “Блядь, you are dripping. Making such a mess in front of your Daddy.” The burning sensation of your pussy stretching was delicious and your mind blanked. At this point there was no holding your moans back, Yelena had you exactly where she wanted you.
Kate was watching you intensely. She could see it on your face. You were lost in the pleasure, and her best friend had barely started fucking you. Her eyes traveled down your body, still half covered by her hoodie that was entirely too large for you. The archer’s eyes got stuck as she watched the extremely large dildo stretch you, watching your pussy drip. Nothing was hotter than your whines as your body worked to take the entire length, she couldn’t help herself and slowly slide a hand down her body into her pants.
“Aww look detka, your Daddy can’t get enough of you getting fucked by her best friend.” Your eyes snap open, staring with wide eyes at Kate as she slowly rubs her own aching clit. You open your mouth to say something but your mouth is filled with two of Yelena’s fingers as she leans down. “Nuh uh, dumb whores don’t get to say anything. All I want to hear is moaning and begging. Understand?” Her hips snap forcing the rest of her cock into you, filling you more than you ever were before. Loud moans fall from your lips and your eyes roll back.
“Please…please move..Please fuck me El.” Pathetic needy begging seemed to be the only thing on your mind as you drip all over the sheets.
Yelena’s hips slam into you as she sets a fast rough pace. Her fingers tangling in your hair forcing your head up. “Such a filthy whore, your pussy is sucking my cock deeper.” You wanted to match the pace, you wanted to rub your clit that was aching for attention. You should have wanted something more, but all you could think about was Yelena’s cock and Kate’s eyes on you. “Look at your Daddy. She’s dripping all over that chair, all because of you. Be a good girl and help her out.” Yelena’s grip in your hair leaves as she roughly grabs your hips, angling her cock to hit your g-spot over and over again.
You struggle to breath but watching Kate fuck herself was too much. Her lip was in between her teeth again, and her other hand was playing with her nipple. A low whine passes your lips, trying to form coherent words. “Daddy” Kate’s eyes snap up, looking away from the cock that’s making a mess of your pussy to your eyes. “Katie, you look so hot. Fuck I- did I do that?” Your words are a pathetic excuse, and the snort that you hear behind you indicates that it was just as bad as you thought it was but it seems to do wonders on Kate.
“Fuck babygirl. You’re so full. Your pussy is dripping all over the bed. Who knew you were such a little whore. You like my eyes on you babygirl?” Her eyes, her fingers stuttering as she rubs her clit, and Yelena reaching down to give your neglected clit a tug was all it took for you to scream as your first orgasm hits you hard.
The blonde’s grip on your hips tightens as you begin slipping down the bed, and her pace is absolutely relentless. “You dumb whore, you fucking came without permsision. If your pussy is so needy then I’ll give it what it needs.” Her hips snapping into you harshly at each word, fingers rubbing your clit roughly as she leans down. Teeth biting down into your neck leaving marks, “Give me another one cопляк.” The single Russian word is enough to push you over the edge again, already overstimulated.
Tears leaking down your cheeks as you gasp for air, “Please.. N-N-No more. I can’t d-” Your broken words are cut off when Yelena snaps your head back with your hair.
“Look at Katie. She’s fucking herself so good, she just wants to cum. Won’t you cum with her? Give her the show she wants.”
Kate’s hands are moving quickly. You no longer know if its your moans or hers filling the room. “Please cum for me babygirl, give me one more. Cum with me.”
A harsh slap on your ass prompts you to answer her, “Please Katie..please cum with me. Wanna watch you cum” Your words are broken and moans interrupt you.
The hand in your hair tightens, forcing you to meet Yelena’s rough strokes. “Can you feel your cum dripping down your thighs, detka? You’re such a messy little whore, taking my cock so well. Putting on a show for your Daddy. Who knew a brat could be broken so easily.”
“Babygirl, I’m so close. Fuck- Fuck- Fuck. Cum with me baby. Cum for Daddy”
The words of the two and the almost painfully snaps of Yelena’s hips were enough for you to cum again, vision going blurry as your orgasm blazes through your body. Tears are streaming down your face and your breath is coming out broken.
Yelena’s thrusts mostly slow down and she’s rubbing your back some, helping you calm down. You had landed face first after your orgasm and a gentle hand tilts your head back up.
Coming face first with Kate’s bright smile, that in no way indicates the activities that just happened in the room. “You did so good baby girl. I’m so proud of you” She leans in and you kiss, slow and gentle. A complete contrast from Yelena who is still slowly playing with you, not quite tired yet. She waits until you two pull apart finally, the two of you sharing a soft smile.
“What a mission, huh?”
763 notes · View notes
golden-barnes · 10 months ago
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Bucky has a long list of reasons to hate John Walker. But the fake Captain America deciding to flirt with you, definitely takes the cake.
Category: Smut 18+
Warning: Jealous Bucky is just soft dom! Bucky, dirty talk, penetrative sex, slight chocking, closet sex, and just John Walker being annoying
Word count: 1.9k
Author’s note: trying out this new format bc I liked the way it look when I did the Spencer Reid fic. A small spoiler warning for the newest FATWS episode but other than that it’s like an AU bc this really has nothing to do with yesterdays’ episode. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!
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There’s a lot to hate about John Walker. The fact that he is trying to replace Steve as a cheap version of Captain America. His stupid face and the way he handles the shield. Even the way he speaks comes off as pretentious and arrogant.
But what really made Bucky seethe with anger is the fact that his little beady eyes would not stop looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes. Taking in every move and gesture you made. It made Bucky’s blood boil. He kept clenching and unclenching his fist. How haven’t you noticed his insisting fucking starring? 
“Can you chip your teeth? Because I’m pretty sure you might by how clenched your jaw” Sam said, patting Bucky on the back. He just rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything. 
There was nothing that can be done. They made a silent pack not to anger the imposter. The government had asked Sam, Bucky and you to help out with a smuggling ring that they have discovered and low and behold, their little Captain America got his ass handed to him. They basically begged them to help. Bucky almost screamed a Fuck no into their faces but you managed to hold him off from punching the soldier that appeared at your apartment. 
You turned around and bent over to pick up something. You were unaware that the fake Captain America licked his crusty lips while looking at you. He kept eying you like a piece of meat. Bucky rolled his eyes again and turned to Sam who was quietly reading the reports.
“Can I punch him?” Bucky whispered to Sam.
“Do you want your pardon to be revoked?” Sam said to him, not even looking up from the reports.
“There’s nobody here. Y/N won’t say anything. You definitely won’t mind.” Bucky whispered, glaring at the blond man that kept staring at you. You clearly didn’t give a shit about him. Therefore, why was he still looking at you?
Sam rolled his eyes at his ex-assassin friend. “Yeah, and later we can steal the shield.” Sam looked up from the reports and pushed them to the side. 
“Exactly! Yeah, now that’s a plan.” Bucky said excitedly, standing up from his chair trying to make his way to John before being stopped by Sam, who grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him back into his chair. Before Bucky could protest, he heard you whistle at them. 
“Hey, guys! I think I have something.” You said. The three men surrounded you, while you were explaining how you found out the new base location for the smuggling ring.
Bucky tried his best to focus on what you were saying and your explanation, but he couldn’t help but notice that the Kmart version of Captain America was inching closer and closer to you. Didn’t this man have a wife? Bucky swore he read that somewhere. Why does he keep staring and getting closer to you?
“Oh! Sorry, ma’am.” The jackass said, when he “accidentally” bumped into you, he grabbed your waist and forearm to stabilize you. 
“It’s okay.“ You told him, and let out a soft chuckle. Bucky felt his pen explode in his hand. The three of you turned to the pouty super soldier who just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the schematics. 
You knew something was up with Bucky. He didn’t say anything. Not after the pen exploding incident. Not even when you were joking around with Sam. He loved making witty comebacks to your jokes. It was your thing. 
But maybe it was John Walker’s presence that made it uncomfortable for him. You knew Bucky hated the guy, mostly cause he took Steve’s spot without earning it. But there was something more to this. Bucky has always had a staring problem, but the number of sharp glares he has been sending to Walker has been enough to alert anyone. You couldn’t comfort him, not without making it super apparent that you are dating. And Bucky had already expressed that he doesn’t want to publicize it unless it’s only Sam that’s around. 
“Agent Y/L/N, I think I found something,” Torres said, signaling to you to go follow him upstairs. You took one last look at Bucky, who was still glaring at the oblivious John Walker.
“Damn, I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that around you all the time,” John said, staring at you walking up the stairs. More specifically, staring at your ass. 
Bucky looked at Sam, almost begging him to let him punch the douchebag that is this man. But Sam gripped his forearm. Bucky will not lose his pardon like this. 
“How about we focus on the damn mission?” Bucky almost growled. John Walker put his hands up.
“I’m sorry man. It’s just- look at her.” John sat back and leaned into his chair. From the distance, he could see you talking to Torres. 
“C’mon man. You asked us for our help but we aren’t here to do all the work.” Sam said trying to be the peacemaker between the super-soldier with a murderous gaze and the soldier with the wondering eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” John said trying to go back to the records. You were descending from the stairs and walking over to them. John brought his attention back to you. The way your hips would sway when you walked. The confidence in every step. Everything Bucky loved, and apparently fucking John did too.
“Guys, I think we need to rest for today. I am a little bit burned out. I think we all are.” You said, with your hands on your hips. Bucky felt his heart clench, you did look tired. Especially because you were almost doing all the work and piecing all of the clues. 
“That’s an incredible idea.” Sam said stretching in his chair. He also looked tired. It made Bucky feel bad that he has been focusing all his energy on glaring and not helping out. He almost felt guilty.
Almost because a surge of rage flows through him again. John “Can’t take a hint” Walker smirked at you while you were grabbing the files that were on the table. 
Bucky didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye. To Sam or the annoying motherfucker that made Bucky want to break rule number 2.
“Woah, Buck. what are you doing?” You said while the brunet dragged you around the base. His grip on your forearm was hard but not enough for it to hurt. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you wouldn’t like it. 
There was something about how Bucky was walking, the silence, the way he was searching for something but never letting go of you.
Bucky opened up a closet door. 
“Get in, doll.”  He whispered in your ear, in a low deep voice. You let out a gasp, feeling goosebumps all over your body. You looked at Bucky in the eyes, and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. You entered the closet space without protesting.
It was a small storage closet. It barely had anything in it so you felt cramped. You turned to Bucky, while he closed the door. The man stalked towards you and you walked backward till your back hit the wall. Bucky had you cornered, and you didn’t mind it.
“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky said, getting close to your face. His hands went to your hips, pulling you towards him. 
“Buck, what are you talking about?” You whispered to him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took one of his hands off your hips. Placing it on your neck, lightly applying some pressure to it. You gasped at his touch, he chuckled a bit at your reaction. 
“C’mon darling. Did you have fun playing around with the imposter Captain America? I mean he had fun looking at you. So I’m assuming that you had fun being looked at.” He said, with his hand still on your neck and his face inches away from your face. You looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.
“Oh, you didn’t notice that. Well, I did. Maybe I should teach you who do you belong to. Would you like that sweetheart?” He said, his breath tickling your lip. You nodded, breathless. Bucky smiled at you.
The hand that was around your neck, went to your chin. Grabbing it and pulling you closer so that your lips would meet. His hands started to wander across your body, while yours looped around his neck. 
Your kisses started to grow hungrier, more desperate. As if Bucky spotted kissing you, you would fade away. His hands reached the zipper of your pants and pulled it down. Not even breaking from your kiss, Bucky managed to push your pants down. You break from your kiss to get out of them, while Bucky took off his pants and underwear.
He didn’t wait. He pushed you softly back on the wall and started to leave kisses and soft bites all over your neck. 
“Jump, baby girl,” He said softly against your skin, patting your butt.
 And you did just so. Wrapping your legs around his waist, with one of his hands on your ass and another moving your panties to the side. 
“Hold that there, baby. Let me make you feel so good.” Holding his neck with one hand, you moved another hand to hold your panties to the side, to make it easy for him.
“Good girl.”And with one thrust, he was inside you, hitting all the spot. You moaned and gripped the back of his neck tightly.
“Like that doll? Can anyone else do this to you uhn? C’mon doll give me everything you got.” With every word that came out of his mouth, he would thrust hard and deep into you. You felt lightheaded. Your legs tightening around his waist but his thrust wouldn’t stop.
“Fuck, Buck. Don’t stop.” You gasped. Bucky kept kissing your neck. Overloading your senses. You were close, you knew it. Bucky knew it. You could feel him grin against your skin.
“Who makes you feel this good, doll?” He asked. You gasped at his sudden change in pace. He started to thrust more desperately, less controlled. He was close too.
“You. Fuck, only you.Shit, Bucky. I’m going to cum.”  Bucky smirked at you.
“Then cum, doll.” Bucky silenced your cries with his lips. Still thrusting into you, letting you ride your high and getting to his. And that wouldn’t be long.
With one final thrust, Bucky came. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and let you down.
“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said, putting on your pants.
“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You slapped his chest lightly, which made him laugh.
“I hope you realize that I would never go with discount Captain America over there.” You joked which made Bucky laugh even harder. You both were dressed and tried to look as decent as you could to leave the closet and the base.
“Let’s hope that fucking in an army base won’t be the reason you lose your pardon.” You said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, to give him reassurance. He gave you a smirk.
“Maybe if we let them watch, they won’t take it away,” Bucky replied to you, giving you a wink. 
“Yeah and get John Walker to join would also help your case.” Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked at you.
“Oh, you are gonna get it when we get home.” Now it was your turn to wink at your boyfriend.
“I’m hoping I do.” Bucky shook his head but pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the exit of the base. Confident that John Walker couldn’t take you away from him.
3K notes · View notes
jungkxook · 12 months ago
—pour up. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  
⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.
⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛
also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!
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There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.
Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.
You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.
Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.
Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.
That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.
“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.
His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.
Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.
“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”
You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).
“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.
“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.
You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”
“Amaze you?”
“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.
“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”
“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.
As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”
You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”
“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.
“As if.”
“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”
You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”
“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”
“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”
Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.
The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.
Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.
“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”
You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”
“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”
At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”
The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”
“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”
“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.
“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”
“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”
“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.
“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”
Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.
“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.
“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”
He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”
He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.
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That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.
So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.
Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).
You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.
Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.
You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.
“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”
“Looking for someone?”
The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.
“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”
You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”
Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”
There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.
“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.
Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.
Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.
“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”
The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.
“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”
Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”
You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.
“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”
Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”
The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.
By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.
Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.
Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.
Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”
You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.
“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”
The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”
You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”
There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
“Come here and kiss me.”
Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.
A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.
You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”
He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).
The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).
“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.
“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”
Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”
“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”
You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”
Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.
“Noticing what?”
“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.
Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”
“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”
Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.
“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”
“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”
“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”
At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”
“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.
The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.
As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.
“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”
“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”
His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.
“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.
You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.
“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”
“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.
Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.
“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.
Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.
“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.
You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.
“Time’s up,” he says.
Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.
“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”
“Help? How?” You question.
“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.
Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.
“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.
Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.
“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”
You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?
Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.
“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”
You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.
“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”
It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.
“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”
Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.
“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“So badly,” You whimper.
This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.
“Spread your legs,” he says.
You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.
“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”
You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.
You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”
“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”
Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”
Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.
Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”
When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”
At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.
“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”
“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.
“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.
“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”
God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.
“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”
Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.
“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”
Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.
“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.
“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”
You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”
Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.
“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”
“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.
Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.
“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”
Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.
“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”
Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.
“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”
He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”
Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.
“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”
“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”
He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.
In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.
“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.
“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.
“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”
Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.
You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.
“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.
“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.
The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.
“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”
“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”
“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”
Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.
“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”
You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.
“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”
“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.
Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”
The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.
“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”
“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”
“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”
You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.
“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.
Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”
You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.
“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”
You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”
The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.
“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”
You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.
“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”
“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”
“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?
“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”
His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.
“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”
You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.
“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”
His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.
“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”
You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.
“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”
You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.
“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.
“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”
You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”
His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.
“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”
With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.
“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”
You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.
“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.
You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.
“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”
Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.
“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.
You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.
“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”
You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.
“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.
“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”
He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.
“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.
You nod hurriedly, humming in response.
“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”
You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.
“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”
His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.
“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.
You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.
“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”
You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.
“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”
“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”
You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.
“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”
His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.
With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.
“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.
You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.
“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” he quips.
“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.
“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.
“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”
You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.
“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”
“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”
“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.
“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”
You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.
“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”
Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”
You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.
“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”
Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.
“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”
Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.
“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”
You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.
“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”
Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”
Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”
He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.
“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”
The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.
“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”
“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”
“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.
He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.
“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”
“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.
Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.
“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”
It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”
He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”
You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.
“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”
He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.
“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”
Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.
“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”
You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”
Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.
You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”
“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.
He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.
The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.
But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.
“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”
The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”
When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.
“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”
“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”
You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”
“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”
Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 
Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.
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You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.
It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.
“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.
Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.
The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.
Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”
You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.
“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.
“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”
Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  
“I━ I━” You stammer.
“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”
Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…
“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”
“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.
“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”
“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”
The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.
You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.
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⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.
⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!
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pillow-titties · a month ago
Not looking
Billy Russo x Reader
When being friends and being colleagues feels difficult, especially when only one of you is dressed
Tags: friends, boss/employee dynamic, teasing, flirting, Billy being Billy, fluff and angst, unresolved sexual tension
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“Billy, it’s me!” You yelled as you barrelled through his front door.
If you weren’t quick, you were going to be late, and you couldn’t be late. Not that morning. But trust you to leave the files you needed for the very early, Very Important meeting at Billy’s place the night before.
You didn’t even notice that Billy didn’t answer you, or the sounds of running water from the bathroom, your eyes darting around wildly as you searched for your files.
You turned over couch cushions and coffee table books, hunting desperately.
“Y/N?” You heard Billy call from somewhere in the apartment.
“Yeah, it’s just me!” You called back, distracted. “I’m looking for the Major Thompson files - think I left them here last night. If I didn’t, I’m fucked.”
“These files?”
You whirled round to find Billy standing in the doorway to the living room, your precious files in hand. You also noticed he was only wearing a bath towel low around his waist, drops of water following the channels of his muscles as they raced down his bare chest.
“Thank God!” You sighed, quickly whirling around, desperate to hide your flushed cheeks. As friends, you hadn’t seen Billy shirtless yet. As boss and employee, you definitely hadn’t seen him shirtless, let alone wrapped in only a towel.
“You did leave them here last night. They were hidden under the blanket,” Billy explained, his voice getting closer.
“Good, means my ass won’t be on the line at this meeting. Davis woulda had me.”
“You know I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to your ass,” he teased. The files hit his glass coffee table beside you with a soft slap, the sudden noise making you jump.
“Glad to know my boss has me covered,” you chuckled, nervously. You scooped up the files, flicking through them briefly. Everything seemed in order. You turned to look over your shoulder at Billy, but quickly caught yourself, remembering his current state.
“You can look if you wanna.”
You could hear the grin in his voice.
“I don’t wanna look,” you replied defensively, keeping your eyes on the files. Your heart raced when you felt a warm presence against your back, your hands tightening on the files.
“Y’know, it’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talkin’ to you,” Billy remarked, his lips right next to your ear.
You chewed on your lip in thought, doing your best to stop yourself from smiling like a flustered teen. He did have a point, and you hated being thought of as rude…
When you turned, you kept your eyes fixed on Billy’s face, doing your best to school your expression into something unreadable when you realised just how close he was.
“You think I’m being rude now?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Billy smirked, and your stomach flipped. “I think you’re makin’ fun of your superior,” he replied cooly.
You swallowed heavily.
“Don’t think you count as my superior here, Bill,” you replied, scrunching your nose at him. “Wait ’til we get to Anvil before you start pulling rank and bossing me around.”
“That what you want? For me to boss you ‘round?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked over you, his eyes following the v-neck of your blouse.
You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t find the right words to say, and your eyes briefly fell to trace his collarbones, speckled with tiny drops of water. Billy chuckled, and your eyes snapped back to his, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
“I think,” you replied, finding your voice again, “I want to see you hurry up and get ready for work. You’re gonna be late otherwise.”
Billy shook his head at you, his dark eyes soft and glinting as he appeared to give up. “Wanna give me a lift? So we can both get there on time?”
“Sure, whatever,” you replied, rolling your eyes dramatically. “Might as well since I’m here.”
“Well, ain’t you making Employee of the Month?” Billy remarked, a full blown grin on his face.
“Just go!” You urged. “I’m not gonna be late for this meeting because it took you ages to get your pants on.”
“Wanna help me put ‘em on?”
“God help me,” you groaned, burying your face in the files and desperately hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “GO!”
Billy chuckled as he strolled away. With his back to you, you took the opportunity to watch the lithe muscles in his back shift as he moved, following the broad line of his shoulders.
Maybe you could misplace your files a little more often…
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phoenixes-and-wizards · a year ago
little things i never want to forget about the hargreeves:
all of them used to defy their father, sneak out to griddy’s, and in five’s own words “eat donuts until we puked. simpler times, eh?”
luther wrote poetry while he was on the moon, especially about comets
tom hopper and the UA crew have said that the scratches all over luther’s body were made by him. he couldn’t stand the loneliness, especially during that first year, and would often resort to harming himself as a way to vent his frustration
it’s also pretty likely that he's had body dysmorphia at one point or another
he also has a habit of stress eating
diego almost became a detective, but he dropped out because he wasn't good at following orders. he even went to police academy!!!
diego has the cross stitch grace made specifically for him on the wall of his basement apartment, and in a frame no less
he’s also a big-ass momma’s boy
and he’s the only one grace calls “silly” as a term of endearment
and he has a fear of needles due to getting that tattoo when they were kids (y’all know which one i’m talking about)
plus his stutter only comes out when he's under extreme emotional stress
and a close rewatch of 1X03 shows that his bedroom had an overflowing abundance of books so what if him and ben used to bond over that😭
allison speaks seven languages
she told her daughter about her siblings, and claire obviously knew them well enough that she was calling them "uncle” and “aunty,” and that last one is especially heartwarming because this was around the time that vanya’s book had just come out, and yet, allison--who has the option of never telling claire about her--still does, and even explains why she wasn’t allowed to go on missions
klaus was smoking blunts at fourteen
klaus was clutching dave’s dogtags right before five teleported all of them to the past
and i’ve noticed that he has a habit of doing that in general in season 2, especially when he’s feeling kind-of low, but sometimes it’s also an unconscious habit and that’s cute, too
klaus would write the things the dead would say to him, all over his bedroom wall
klaus has a habit of going barefoot whenever he’s at home
five was the only person vanya felt comfortable enough with to present new violin pieces to
five outright says that everything he’s done so far was to get back to his family and keep them safe
@me-evil-never​ wrote in the tags: “five has watched his family die/be dead like 3 times if i’m counting correctly (YES YOU ARE AND IT’S A PAINFUL FACT WE MUST ALL LIVE WITH), plus all he has ever done in his life since age 13 was to get back to them so he could spend time safely with them” and YES I AGREE why would you hide such an excellent point in the tags because, sometimes, even i forget that it’s only been two weeks for him, and they’re probably the roughest he’s had since being stuck in the apocalypse as an actual child, and idk about you guys, but i just really want to give five a big hug because lord knows he deserves needs it
allison used to paint klaus' nails during meals
and was apparently a daddy’s girl, though how one could become a “daddy’s girl” if the father in question was reginald hargreeves is beyond my capacity to understand
ben was reading chekhov as early as 14
ben was a bookworm, both in life and death
vanya had the smallest room
vanya openly called ben the kindest of their siblings in her book, and said that when he died, none of them had any more reason to stay
before he left, diego gave reggie a piece of his mind
all of them know how to dance
they all know how to speak and read greek (ancient fucking greek, as one of you oh-so-eloquently put it)
vanya knows how to speak russian and god knows how many other languages
(by this point i'm really convinced they're all multilingual and there just hasn't been an opportunity for them to utilize that yet)
she also has a mr. snuggles teddy bear
according to klaus, vanya used to cry when the others would step on ants as kids
klaus is pansexual
he also dated twins once (though i’m not sure if he dated one then the other or both at the exact same time)
and has mild claustrophobia from being locked up in mausoleums all the time as a child
diego swore a pinky promise with lila and called it “the pinkiest promise” he’d ever make, and even though he’s a hard-ass who won’t hesitate to cut anybody in half, he’s still at his gentlest when he’s around her and he doesn’t even try to hide it
off her meds, vanya got first chair and a solo on her first try (as a violinist in a professional orchestra, lemme tell you that this is no easy feat to do)
she also seemed to have an affinity for bach (again--not easy!!)
even though he was barely starting puberty, ben was smart enough to reprogram allison's teddy bear to say "luther smells dad's underwear."
upon possessing klaus for a few minutes in season 2, ben could be seen clutching various flowers and smelling them repeatedly
klaus can actually levitate in the comics
according to @valkerymillenia, ghost!ben once saved klaus' life in the comics after he overdosed on heroin yet again
both klaus and diego repeatedly tried to open the lock to vanya's old anechoic chamber and were absolutely furious when luther wouldn't let them
diego called elliott "one of ours" despite knowing him for all of a week and a half
he also calls herb “herbie,” calmed him down after accidentally drawing a weapon on him, and created a secret handshake with him, all within two hours tops of meeting him
if one really thinks about it, diego is actually good with people? and that makes sense because he left the academy as early as seventeen, and he would’ve had to talk to a lot of people just to make ends meet that first year alone, and even though reggie tried to squash that part of him down, he’s still a good person at heart, you go prince of pointy things, make us all proud
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alwaysbewoke · 3 months ago
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Below is a list of 28 common racist attitudes and behaviors that indicate a detour or wrong turn into white guilt, denial or defensiveness. Each is followed by a statement that is a reality check and consequence for harboring such attitudes.
1. I’m Colorblind.
“People are just people; I don’t see color; we’re all just human.” Or “I don’t think of you as Chinese.” Or “We all bleed red when we’re cut.” Or “Character, not color, is what counts with me.”
Statements like these assume that people of color are just like you, white; that they have the same dreams, standards, problems, and peeves that you do. “Colorblindness” negates the cultural values, norms, expectations and life experiences of people of color. Even if an individual white person could ignore a person’s color, society does not. By saying we are not different, that you don’t see the color, you are also saying you don’t see your whiteness. This denies the people of colors’ experience of racism and your experience of privilege.
“I’m colorblind” can also be a defense when afraid to discuss racism, especially if one assumes all conversation about race or color is racist. Speaking of another person’s color or culture is not necessarily racist or offensive. As my friend Rudy says, I don’t mind that you notice that I’m black.” Color consciousness does not equal racism.
2. The Rugged Individual, the Level Playing Field and the Bootstrap Theory.
“America is the land of opportunity, built by rugged individuals, where anyone with grit can succeed if they just pull up hard enough on their bootstraps.”
These are three of the crown jewels of U.S. social propaganda. They have allowed generation after generation to say, “If you succeed, you did it, but if you fail, or if you’re poor, that’s your fault.” Belief in this propaganda is founded on a total denial of the impact of either oppression or privilege on any person’s chance for success.
Attacks on programs like affirmative action find rationalization in the belief that the playing field is now level, i.e., that every individual, regardless of color or gender, or disability, etc., has the same access to the rights, benefits and responsibilities of the society.
The rationalization continues: since slavery is ended and people of color have civil rights, the playing field has now been leveled. It follows, then, that there is no reason for a person of color to “fail” (whether manifested in low SAT scores or small numbers in management positions) EXCEPT individual character flaws or cultural inadequacies. These “failures” could have no roots in racism and internalized racism.
3. Reverse Racism.
A. “People of color are just as racist as white people.” B. “Affirmative action had a role years ago, but today it’s just reverse racism; now it’s discriminating against white men.” C. “The civil rights movement, when it began, was appropriate, valuable, needed. But it’s gone to the extreme. The playing field is now level. Now the civil rights movement is no longer working for equality but for revenge.” Or D. “Black pride, black power is dangerous. They just want power over white people.” (Include here any reference to pride and empowerment of any people of color.)
A. Let’s first define racism with this formula:
Racism = racial prejudice + systemic, institutional power.
To say people of color can be racist, denies the power imbalance inherent in racism. Certainly, people of color can be and are prejudiced against white people. That was a part of their societal conditioning. A person of color can act on prejudices to insult or hurt a white person. But there is a difference between being hurt and being oppressed. People of color, as a social group, do not have the societal, institutional power to oppress white people as a group. An individual person of color abusing a white person – while clearly wrong, (no person should be insulted, hurt, etc.) is acting out a personal racial prejudice, not racism.
B. This form of denial is based on the false notion that the playing field is now level. When the people with privilege, historical access and advantage are expected to suddenly (in societal evolution time) share some of that power, it is often perceived as discrimination.
C+D. C is a statement by Rush Limbaugh. Though, clearly he is no anti-racist, both c+d follow closely on the heels of “reverse racism” and are loaded with white people’s fear of people of color and what would happen if they gained “control.” Embedded here is also the assumption that to be “pro-black” (or any other color) is to be anti-white. (A similar illogical accusation is directed at women who work for an end to violence against women and girls. Women who work to better the lives of women are regularly accused of being “anti-male.”)
4. Blame the Victim.
“It’s their fault they can’t get a job, or be manager.” Or “We have advertised everywhere, there just aren’t any qualified people of color for this job.” Or “If he only worked harder, applied himself more, or had a stronger work ethic.” Or “If she just felt better about herself – internalized racism is the real problem here.” OR “She uses racism as an excuse, to divert us from her incompetence.” Or “If he didn’t go looking for racism everywhere…” (As if racism is so hidden or difficult to uncover that people of color would have to search for it.)
All “blame the victim” behaviors have two things in common. First, they avoid the real problem: racism. Second, they take away from the picture the agents of racism, white people and institutions, who either intentionally perpetuate or unintentionally collude with racism.
This is similar to agent deletion in discussions of rape. Statements referring to a woman being raped, many by focusing on her clothing or behavior at the time of the rape and delete the male rapist from the picture.)
As long as the focus remains on people of color, white people can minimize or dismiss their reactions, and never have to look directly at racism and the whites’ own responsibility or collusion.
5. The White Knight or White Missionary.
“We (white people) know just where to build your new community center.” Or “Your young people (read youth of color) would be better served by traveling to our suburban training center.” Or “We (white people) organized a used clothing drive for you; where do you want us to put the clothes?”
It is a racist, paternalistic assumption that well meaning white people know what’s best for people of color. Decisions by white people, are made on behalf of people of color, as though they were incapable of making their own. This is another version of “blame the victim” and white is right. It places the problems at the feet of people of color and the only “appropriate” solutions with white people. Once more the power of self-determination is taken away from people of color. Regardless of motive, it is still about white control.
6. Lighten up. (Lighten? Whiten?)
“Black people are just too sensitive and thin-skinned.” Or Indians should get a sense of humor. We’re just kidding around.” Or “I didn’t mean anything racist; it’s just a joke.”
Here are racism and agent deletion in partnership again. The problem and perpetrators are exonerated, because the rationale declares that humor isn’t hurtful. This form of denial serves most to trivialize the pain and reality of daily racism.
7. Don’t Blame Me.
“I never owned slaves.” Or “I didn’t vote for David Duke.” Or “None of my family joined the Klan.” Or “I taught my children that racism is wrong.”
Often white people hear blame whenever the issue of racism is brought up, whether or not blame has been placed on whites. As beneficiaries of racism and white privilege, you sometimes take a defensive posture even when you are not being individually blamed. You may personalize the remarks, not directed personally at you. It is the arrogance of your privilege that drags the focus back to whites.
When whites are being blamed or personally accused of racist behavior, this defensiveness and denial further alienate you and may preclude you from examining your possible racist behavior.
“But What About Me. Look how I’ve been hurt, oppressed, exploited…?
This diminishes the experience of people of color by telling our own story of hardship. We lose an opportunity to learn more about the experience of racism from a person of color, while we minimize their experience by trying to make it comparable or less painful than ours.
9. We Have Overcome.
“We dealt with racism in the 60s with all the marches, sit-ins and speeches by Dr. King. Laws have been changed. Segregation and lynching are ended. We have some details to work out but real racism is pretty much a thing of the past.”
The absence of legalized, enforced segregation does not equal the end of racism. This denial of contemporary racism, based on inaccurate assessment of both history and current society, romanticizes the past and diminishes today’s reality.
10. The End Run, Escapism.
“Of course, racism is terrible, but what about sexism? Or classism or heterosexism?” or “Racism is a result of classism (or any other oppression), so if we just work on that, racism will end, too.”
I agree with Audre Lorde’s statement, “There is no hierarchy of oppression.” I would not establish a rank order for oppressions. At the same time, we cannot attempt to evade recognition and responsibility for any form of oppression.
Statements like the ones above divert attention from racial injustice to focus on some other form of oppression. They are usually said by white people, (women, working class people, lesbians, gay men or others) who experience both white privilege and oppression in some form. Whites are more willing and more comfortable decrying their oppression than scrutinizing their privilege. Oppressions are so inextricably linked that if whites allow their fear, guilt and denial to constantly divert them from confronting racism, even while we work to dismantle other forms, no oppression will ever be dismantled.
11. Due Process.
“Lady Justice is color blind.” White parents who tell their children, “The police are here to protect you. If they ever stop you, just be polite and tell the truth.” Then when a black teen is beaten or killed by police, those same parents say, “He must have been doing something wrong, to provoke that kind of police response.”
White people’s belief that the police, courts, the legal system and social services work without bias; that due process, fair trials, juries, judges, police officers and case workers have everyone’s, including people of color, best interest at heart. Or at least, no less than they do for white people. This belief clouds reality. Whites tend to look at isolated incidents rather than the patterns of institutionalized oppression.
12. The Innocent by Association.
“I’m not racist, because… I have Vietnamese friends, or my lover is black or I marched with Dr. King.”
(Perhaps, if all white people who say they marched with Dr. King actually had, the current situation would look different!) This detour into denial wrongly equates personal interactions with people of color, no matter how intimate they may be, with anti- racism. There is an assumption that our personal associations free us magically from our racist conditioning.
13. The Penitent.
“I am so sorry for the way whites have treated your people.” Or “I am sorry for the terrible things that white man just said to you.”
While there is probably no harm in the “sorry,” if it is not attached to some action taken against racism, it is most often just another expression of white guilt. Being an ally to people of color is not limited to an apology for other white people’s behavior, it must include anti-racist action.
14. The Whitewash.
“He’s really a very nice guy, he’s just had some bad experiences with Koreans.” Or “That’s just the way Uncle Adolf jokes. He’s very polite to the black janitor in his building.”
We’re trapped by another version of white guilt response. Whites attempt to excuse, defend or cover up racist actions of other white people. White people are particularly prone to this if the other person is close, family or friend, and if we feel their actions reflect on us.
15. Not Here in Lake Wobegon.
“We don’t have a racism problem here at this (school, organization, community).” or “We didn’t have a racism problem in this town until that Mexican family moved here.”
As white people, we do not have to think about racism when our school, organization or community is all white. Racism does not usually become apparent TO WHITES until there are people of color in their frame of reference.
16. I Was An Indian In a Former Life.
“After that sweat lodge I really know what it feels like to be an Indian. I have found my true spiritual path.”
This is spiritual or cultural appropriation and poses a serious threat to the integrity and survival of native cultures. To fill a void in their own spiritual core, some white people are drawn into the New Age garden to pick from a variety of native spiritual practices usually offered for sale. (White writers, such as Lynn Andrews and others, garner high profits from fictitious “Indian” writing and teaching, while many native writers can’t find publishers.) Since native spiritual practice is inseparable from history and current community, it cannot be disconnected from that context to service white people searching for life’s meaning. Appropriating selected parts of native cultures romanticizes the lives of native peoples while denying their struggles. Their land and livelihoods stolen, indigenous peoples now see white people trying to steal their spirituality. Rather than escape one’s white racism by finding a spiritual path, whites instead collude in one more way with the genocidal attacks on native cultures.
17. Straightening Up or Boys Will be Boys.
The white heterosexual who says, “We can’t talk about AIDS or homophobia because we’re trying to work in coalition with a Latino group.” White organizations in which women are unheard, disrespected or prevented from assuming leadership. “We’ll deal with any gender inequities or sexism after we solidify this coalition with the NAACP.”
When white people with privilege in some other aspect of their life (gender, sexual orientation, lack of disability, class, etc.) use their focus on racism as an excuse to not challenge and therefore perpetuate other forms of oppression, the consequence is a disingenuous and unsustainable commitment to justice.
18. The Isolationist.
“I thought we resolved this issue (racism) when it came up on the board last year.” Or “We need to deal with this specific incident. Let’s not complicate it by bringing other irrelevant issues into it.” Or “This only happened today because the TV news last night showed police beating that black kid.”
Attempts are made to isolate a particular incident of racism from the larger context. We blame a publicized incident of racism outside our organization to rationalize an internal incident and to avoid facing the reality of racism within. When trying to resolve an accusation of racism within an institution, whites often see the incident in a vacuum, or as an aberration, in isolation from an historic pattern of racism in this institution and nation. Racism has been institutionalized so that every “incident” is another symptom of the pattern. When whites continue to react incident to incident, crisis to crisis, as though they are unconnected, we will find genuine resolution only further from our reach.
19. Bending Over Backwards.
“Of course, I agree with you.” (Said to a person of color even when I disagree) or “I have to side with Jerome on this.” (Even when Jerome, a man of color, represents opinions counter to mine.)
Your white guilt shows up here as you defer to people of color. The person of color is always right, or you never criticize or challenge a person of color. You try not to notice that you notice they are black or native American or Latina or Asian. You don’t disagree, challenge or question a person of color the way we would a white person. And if you do disagree, you don’t do it with the same conviction or passion that you would display with a white person. Your racism plays out as a different standard for people of color than for white people. If this is your pattern, you can never have a genuine relationship with a person of color. People of color know when you are doing this. Your sincerity, commitment and courage will be rightly questioned. You cannot grow to a deeper level of trust and intimacy with people of color you treat this way.
20. Teach Me or Help Me; I’m Stuck.
“I want to stop acting like a racist, so please tell me when I do something you think is racist.”
While it is vitally important for white anti-racists to work with other white people, this detour again results in white people controlling the direction and focus of anti-racist work. White people will get stuck. They will get frustrated and impatient with themselves and other white people in this struggle. You’ll stay stuck if you don’t seek help from other white anti-racists. Your inclination in the past has been to ask people of color to help you. You should seek out other white people BEFORE you go to people of color.
Perhaps, as you become more trustworthy as allies, you will build genuine relationships with a few people of color who offer their reflections when you get stuck. But this is at their discretion, not yours. You can’t assume or act as though people of color should be so grateful for your attempts at anti- racism, that they will be willing to guide you whenever you are ready to be guided.
21. White on White, and Righteously So.
“What is wrong with those white people? Can’t they see how racist they’re being?” or “I just can’t stand to be around white people who act so racist anymore.” “You’re preaching to the choir” “You’re wasting your time with us; we’re not the people who need this training.”
You distance yourself from “other” white people. You see only unapologetic bigots, card-carrying white supremacists and white people outside your own circle as “real racists.” You put other white people down, trash their work or behavior, or otherwise dismiss them. You righteously consider yourselves white people who have evolved beyond our racist conditioning.
This is another level of denial. There are no “exceptional white people.” You may have attended many anti-racism workshops; you may not be shouting racist epithets or actively discriminating against people of color, but you still experience privilege based on your white skin color. You benefit from this system of oppression and advantage no matter what your intentions are. This distancing serves only to divide you from potential allies and limit your own learning.
22. Smoke and Mirrors.
You use the current PC language; you listen to the right music; we state the liberal line; you’re seen at the right meetings with the right people. You even interrupt racist remarks when the right people are watching and when there is no risk to us. You look like an anti-racist.
This is the “Avon Ally,” the cosmetic approach. People of color and other white anti-racists see through this pretense quickly. This pseudo-anti-racist posturing only serves to collude with racism and weakens the credibility of sincere white anti-racists.
23. I Have To Do My Personal Work.
“I have to do my personal work first.” Or “Ending racism is only about changing personal attitudes.”
If you assume that personal reflection and interpersonal work are the end of your job as an anti-racist, you would stay out of the public, institutional arenas. You would ignore cultural racist practices that don’t include whites personally. Whites wouldn’t take action, until they have finished ridding themselves of all racist conditioning. And since that complete “cure” will never happen, you would never take any institutional or cultural anti- racist action.
24. Whites Only.
“I have no connection with or accountability to people of color. I do all my anti-racism with whites only. I am accountable only to other white people.”
While it is vitally important for white anti-racists to work with other white people, this detour results in white people again controlling the direction and focus of anti-racism work.
25. The Accountant.
We keep a tally sheet. If we perform some “feat of anti- racism we expect reciprocity from an individual or group of color, usually with some prestige or power that can serve our interests.
“I scratch your back, you scratch mine” is NOT justice seeking nor ally behavior. It serves only to reduce justice work to some kind of power brokering currency.
26. Silence.
We stay silent.
Your silence may be a product of your guilt or fear of making people of color or white people angry with you or disappointed in you. You may be silent because your guilt stops you from disagreeing with people of color. You may be afraid that speaking out could result in losing some of your privilege. You may be silenced by fear of violence. The reasons for our silence are many, but each time we are silent we miss an opportunity to interrupt racism, or to act as an ally or to interact genuinely with people of color or other white people. And no anti-racist action is taken as long as we are silent.
(A note about silence: Silence is a complicated matter. There are times when faced with a potential intervention situation that you may choose not to interrupt – for reasons of good sense or strategy. Anti-racists need courage, but taking foolish risks makes little sense. When the choice is between intervening in this moment, alone, or gathering allies to speak out later in a more strategic way, the latter may prove more effective.)
27. The “Certificate of Innocence.”
Sometimes you seek or expect from people of color some public or private recognition and appreciation for your anti-racism. Other times you are looking for a “certificate of innocence” telling you, that you are one of the good white people.
If your ally commitment depends on positive reinforcement from people of color, you set yourself up for sure failure. The first time a person of color is displeased with your actions, you could respond, “Well, if the very people I’m doing all this for don’t want my help, then why bother?” Clearly, you’re challenging racism for “them,” not for whites. You have not identified your self-interest, as a white person, for fighting racism. Until you do, you will not be able to sustain this lifelong journey.
28. Exhaustion and Despair – Sound and Retreat.
“I’m exhausted. I’m only one person. I can stop and rest for a while.” Or “Racism is so pervasive and entrenched, there just isn’t any hope.”
Despair is a real enemy of anti-racists. If your commitment is a lifelong one, we must find ways to mitigate the effects. Burn-out or desertion is of no use to the struggle. We can remember men who jumped on a “Take Back the Night” bandwagon, challenging violence against women – for a while, until the attention on them as good men waned … until the “glamour” of the issue faded.
One of the historical, repeated failures of “liberals” in the social justice movement has been their short-term and inconsistent commitment to the “issue du jour.” If you quit, for any reason, you are engaging your “default option.” As white people, you can rest, back off, or take a break from the frustration and despair of anti-racism work. There will be no significant consequence to you for this retreat. White people will not think less of you. But racism doesn’t allow such a respite for people of color. One of the elemental privileges of being white is your freedom to retreat from the issue of racism. “If things get too tough, I can always take a break.” And your work against racism doesn’t get done.
Each anti-racist action we take brings new racist action and challenges. People of color will continue to demand their rights, opportunities and full personhood. But racism in the United States won’t end because people of color demand it. Racism will only end when a significant number of white people of conscience, the people who can wield systemic privilege and power with integrity, find the will and take the action to dismantle it. This won’t happen until white people find racism in their daily consciousness as often as people of color do. For now you have to drag racism into your consciousness intentionally, for, unlike your sisters and brothers of color, the most present daily manifestation of your white privilege is the possibility of forgetting about racism. We cannot.
Authored by jona Olsson. Read the complete article here. “Detour-Spotting, for white anti-racists”
#RacistsAboutToBeMad #WhitePeopleWontBeAbleToDeal #YouTooRacistNonBlackPOC
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ramp-it-up · a month ago
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Good and Tight
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Part two of The Fit and the Feel
Pairing: Chris Evans x Wardrober! Reader; Henry Cavill x Reader (non-romantic?)
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk. FaceTime sex, Daddy kink, degradation kink, jealousy, pining, innuendo, workplace relationships, size difference, bratty behavior, dirty talk, flirting, size kink, mutual masturbation Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Let me know if you liked it by interacting: like, comment and reblog!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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Claiming Chris as your Daddy was all fun and games until he got serious about it.
You two were still a secret because you didn’t think it was a good look for him to be dating a member of a film crew, and you also didn’t want the grief from his fans.
Chris was content to keep you and he on the low.
After all, you were just having fun, right?
At first he treated the whole Daddy thing like a joke. It was a fun kink while fucking and a funny joke in your conversations. You were both super busy, so dick appointments when you could hook up was the norm. It was fun and easy, and stress free.
But then you had to go all the way to London for a film a couple of months after you two first hooked up. When you were apart, Chris got way into the Daddy thing.
You agreed to address him as Daddy, unless you were around people, and when he texted, ‘get ready,’ you had five minutes to get to a bathroom and FaceTime him. It didn’t matter if you were on a plane or in a crowded club. And you loved to run to do it. It got to the point that just seeing those words on your screen got you wet.
Chris was addicted to your sweet, hot, tight little pussy. He didn’t want anyone else; being inside your tight pussy made his life complete. He was ruined for anyone else. But you didn’t know that.
This new gig was a big step for you. You were now a Set Costumer on a major movie production. And the movie starred Henry Cavill. Talk about a fine specimen of a man. He and Chris were the same height, but while Chris was a slim guy with a lot of lithe muscle, Henry was naturally beefy and chiseled.
You couldn’t lie, you enjoyed having your hands on him for your job. But you were totally chilling. You had Chris Evans chatting you up every free second he got. You were a lucky individual.
Chris was still in LA working on his latest project. He was proud of you, but he missed you. Envious thoughts invaded his head and he began to wonder about your interactions with Cavill. Especially given how you and he got together.
As he was scrolling his feed one day, Chris saw a paparazzi still of Henry in a street scene with you in the background, out of focus, but watching intently.
He was instantly jealous although he knew what was up; he’d just spoken to you that morning and made you cum twice over the phone. But you had him hard with need after two weeks apart.
He texted you as he went into his trailer and locked the door. He got ready for his closeup. He pulled out his cock and started stroking it slowly.
You made your way to the restroom and got ready for his call. When you saw the notification, you pressed answer right away.
“Oh, shit.”
Seeing his cock so suddenly was a bit of a surprise.
“That’s not my fucking name.”
Chris’ growl indicated that he was in a mood, and you were into it.
Your finger was in your mouth next, biting it, your plump lips surrounding it, making him harder as he imagined his cock there.
“Fuck! Three fingers. Get ‘em good and wet and then pull your skirt up and sit on the toilet.”
He’d made you model what you were wearing this morning, which was last night, LA time. Corduroy skirt and thigh high socks with boots. London in December was cold. But no panties.
Chris felt his power as he decided that you’d go without underwear today. It balanced out the need he felt when he missed you.
“Now sit down, stuff your fingers in your pussy, and tell me about your day.”
You winced as you put your fingers inside you. After two weeks without any, it was a tight fit. But the memory of the feel of Chris stretching you out, and the visual of his cock on the screen made it easier for them to ease inside of you.
“Well, we shot some scenes with Henry, and I, I, I…”
Chris angled the phone up so that you could see his face framed behind his cock, hair falling into his eyes as he clenched his jaw and stroked. Jesus, that undercut was gonna be the death of you.
You started rubbing your clit with your fingers when you saw that.
“I said, fit those fingers inside your pussy! And I didn’t say you could touch my clit.”
You shuddered when he said that
A grunt came from him and you saw precum slide out of his shiny pink head. You wanted to teleport.
“Yes Daddy. Sorry Daddy.” You slid your fingers into your hole. “Daddy! I can’t get them as deep as you…”
Chris sat back and combed his hair out of his eyes with his free hand.
“I need you to fucking try.” He sighed as he saw you go knuckle deep.
“That’s better. Now. Were you very busy today?”
His tone was conversational, as if he wasn’t making you do nasty things for him. And as if he wasn’t stroking off to you fucking yourself
“Y-yes Daddy… I fuck! I had to fix a couple of shirts that Hen ripped during his fight scenes…”
You arched your back and moaned, licking your lips.
Chris sneered as he pulled the phone closer so that you had a high definition view of his cock. All the ridges and veins that you could see, you could also feel from memory.
“Hen? Hen? You call him Hen? A little familiar, don’t you think?”
“N-no Daddy. He told me to call him that.He’s been nothing but nice. A perfect gentleman.”
Chris scoffed.
“You know why he’s been nice? He wants that ass. Don’t let the nice guy fool you. I was a nice guy too, before I made you my cock slut.”
You stared into the camera and bit your lip. “Yes, Daddy.”
Chris kept stroking, getting worked up by your reaction
“Does he want you to call him that while he’s fucking my pussy?”
Your eyes started to tear up, partly from the sting of what he said, and partly from desperation to cum. You opened and closed your mouth.
“Do you need something in your mouth?”
“Yes Daddy. And I need to touch my clit so I can cum.”
“Do you want Hen’s dick in your mouth? His fingers on your clit?”
Chris bit the words out, angry that he wasn’t there in London with you.
“Whose job is that?l
“Yours. Only yours Daddy..”
“Fucking right, it’s mine. That’s my tight cock sleeve between your legs. You were tailor made for met. Fit me like a gotdamn glove. Feel so fucking nice around me.”
“I think I will send him one of the pictures I have of you stretched around my dick. How will Hen like that?“
Yoo groaned, desperate now, and safe over 5,000 miles away. You started strumming your clit as you stuffed your fingers into your cunt.
“Oh shit. You’re in big trouble now. You’re touching my clit, probably turned on by the idea of Henry seeing your holes fucked out by me. You want him to see, don’t you. Fucking slut.”
“Sh sh shitttt, Daddy!”
You came like a freight train, your hand a poor substitute for Chris, but his words pushing you over the edge.
“Enjoy it while you can. Because I’m gonna to edge you for a week when I get that ass in my hands again. And you’re gonna take it in every gotdamn hole you got. Holy fuck!”
Chris came all over his hand, collapsing back onto the back of the couch in his trailer.
You both sat there a minute, coming down from the sex high.
You watched Chris get up and wash his hands and fix his pants. You did the same.
“You still meeting me in Massachusetts on the day after Christmas?”
Chris had invited you to spend some time with him at his home. It was sweet. And sexy. You knew he was going to ruin you. You wanted it badly.
Chris’ tone was much gentler. His eyes were soft. You felt…something.
Oh shit.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
You smiled, not wanting to make things more serious than they needed to be. The day after Christmas was the definition of NOT a relationship.
Wasn’t it?
Chris smiled back, trying to keep things light.
“Gotta get back to work.”
“Me too.”
“See ya later.”
“See ya.”
You ended the call reluctantly; the conversation felt unfinished. But you went back to your trailer, counting the days until the 26th of December.
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“Hey. This shirt doesn’t feel right, like the seam is off. It’s ripped again. Need you to fix it, Love. I hate this brand of shirt.”
Henry stepped up into your trailer and closed the door closed behind him, raising his eyebrow at you, a frown on those perfect bow lips. He showed you another rip on his sleeve.
The character and the scene required the fit and for the shirt to hold up to the action. You inhaled a whiff of his cologne as you felt the seam that was on the side of his bulging bicep. You looked up into his blue eyes, put off balance by their clarity. You cleared your throat as you turned around to get your sewing kit.
Henry admired your ass. And he didn’t try to hide it. His eyes raked up your form as you turned around. You tried to give him a stern look, but he just smirked at you.
“Can you take off your shirt?”
You put one of the tailor’s pencils that was in your bun between your teeth.
“I’ve been waiting for you to undress me again.”
His silky voice and that accent could do something to you, if you let it.
Henry felt exactly the same about you, but he just clenched his jaw and held back from saying as much as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You were holding back from him and he wanted to know why. Henry wanted you. But he wanted you to come to him.
“So you can fix the shirt, of course.”
You bit down when you saw his magnificent body emerge from the white material, standing on tiptoe and putting your hands on his shoulders to help him off with his shirt. He handed it to you and looked down on your ass again as you sauntered away.
“It will feel good and fit tight, like it’s supposed to.”
You heard Henry chuckle as you turned around to your work table.
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