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freedomfireflies · 2 months

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Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?”

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat.

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.”

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it.

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present.

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before.

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret.

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress.

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you.

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still.

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside.

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…��

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants.

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking.

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body.

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again.

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them.

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it.

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again.

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent.

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth.

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric.

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more.

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling.

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything.

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either.

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

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chuluoyi · 6 months

Text

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

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thebimbopalace · 13 days

Text

❝ ORAL FIXATION LVL. [ EXTREME ] ! ❞

↻ featuring: t. fushiguro

⟢ blurb: do you have an oral fixation? yes, yes you do. and does sucking toji ōff satisfy it? yes, yes it does.

wc: 1.5k

contains — fem!reader, husband!toji, explicit content (mdni), foul language, feminine pet names, oral (m!receiving), light cöckwarming, light throat fūcking, dirty talk, use of good girl, reader gets called ‘pup’, praise

one thing you know for sure, your husband is a slut.

whether it's intentional or not, toji pushes your buttons to the point of bed-breaking sex. as you both relax on the couch watching television together, here he is, trying to provoke you.

you sit nestled under his beefy arm as his hand rests on the ample flesh of your breast over your t-shirt in a comfortable hold. he sits man-spread, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips showcasing his delectable v-line and the tufts of dark hair that make up his happy trail. tight black shirt that conforms to the musculature of his torso. jeez, if the fabric were a lower cut, he'd damn near be showing his cleavage.

who told him to look like that? WHO?

as you scan his physique with your starving orbs, you try your damnedest not to stare at that all-too-obvious bulge of his cock in his pants. such thickness, such length that never fails to pound you into the mattress. the stretch it delivers to your awaiting cunt causes your to curl your toes in your socks just from the thought.

saliva pools in your mouth as a heavy feeling overtakes your tongue. you need him, and you need him now.

you shift lower on the couch as your hand slides up his thick thigh tantalizingly slow. "can i help you?" toji's deep baritone rings out, eyebrow quirking up when you slip your nimble fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers. "yeah actually, lift your hips," your demanding tone ricochets off his ears.

his features crumple up at your blatant audacity to demand anything without the magic word. his hips still haven't lifted while the soft background noise of the television fills the tense air.

fuck.

"what?"

"lift your hips toji," you repeat, annoyed that he's not listening.

his giant hand cups your chin, stout fingers pressing into your soft cheeks. his navy irises lock onto yours in an intimidating sexual gaze. "use your manners. you know i taught you better than that," now it was toji's turn to command you. a rush of warmth floods your face at his raspy demand. your eyes dart away from his potent stare as you mumble incoherent syllables.

"speak up girl," he harshly utters as the pads of his fingers tighten on your chin. "please lift your hips, toji, i want it in my mouth," you plea sweetly as your fingers play with his waistband, wanting nothing more than to see his cock, to feel the weight on your tongue. he scoffs "not even a 'pretty' in front of that pathetic please? you must not want—"

"nononono i do, i wan' it pretty pleaseee toji," you whine. a smug smirk shows on his lips, turning the scar on the side of his mouth up. "there's my good girl, i was wonderin' where she was, heh. take what you need baby," he slides his hand from your chin to your ear as he tucks some of your locks behind it. a touch so intimate, so loving, a major contrast to the sultry way he licks his lips as if he's thirsty for what's about to come.

once he lifts his hips, you make quick work of taking his pants off him, ripping them down just far enough to free his soft dick from his boxer. how is he still so big on soft? you wonder. you lean down and deliver a tiny peck to his limp cock before engulfing the entire thing in the cave that is your mouth. the pubes at his base tickle your nose as you have him far down between your lips. "can’t even relax without you tryin’ to suck on my cock, shit," toji hisses.

his soft trunk is stationed between your lips as you flatten your tongue to lick the underside of it. you're not even sucking it yet, just warming it up while your spit trickles slowly, creating a light tickle down the sides of his flaccid cock. toji sits back, entertained but quickly growing impatient with each pass of your tongue on his shaft.

"come on girl, either suck it or get off my cock," he huffs huskily with traces of a pout on his scarred lips. you roll your eyes at the obvious sass in his tone. you almost want to keep warming his cock just to torture him but, that would also be torture to you, and that you don't want. so, with a wrap of your manicured hand around his girth, you begin to stroke him, successfully smearing all your saliva gloss mixed concoction up and down his length.

"yeah, that's it. make sure to get that cock niceeee and wet, mhm," he sighs as his body relaxes into the cushions, head tilting back against the back of the couch. the air around you both grows hot, thick with sensuality. as your warm mouth slides up to his mushroom tip, you swirl your plush tongue around it eliciting a soft groan from the ravenette. you feel the transition in his dick from soft to hard as you carry on.

your hand starts to move in tandem with your mouth. up and down movements as the goal in your mind becomes clear. you want him to cum, more than anything you want to see him fall apart all because of you. “such an eager pup f’me,” toji breathed as the pleasure from your warm, wet cavern shoots to his toes. the in-sync motions of your hand and mouth are steady, sucking from base to tip as your tongue lies flat on the underside of him.

up and down, up and down, up and—

you feel toji place his strong hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers into your locks as he forces you down to his base. a sputtering gag erupts from the back of your throat as his fat cock forcefully enters. “take it, take it, oh fuck. tight. . .fuckin’. . .throat, god d-damn,” toji strains as sweat starts to form on his forehead. you relax your throat to assist the bullying of his girth into your snug tunnel.

his fingers tighten their grip on your strands pulling you off his now rigid cock. panting breaths release from you as your chest moves to the rapid beat of his heart. toji locks his gaze with yours in admiration. beauty that can rival aphrodite herself. big ‘innocent’ eyes filled with tears decorating your lash line, clear saliva strings that connect your plump lips to his blushing tip, just gorgeous. “mmm, my pretty baby.”

his hand slides down the back of your head, cups the nape of your neck as his free hand grabs the base of his cock. toji taps the fat tip on your slick lips like he's microphone-testing making a short whimper fall in response. “open up ‘n finish what you started, dirty girl," toji's deep drawl commands as he smudges his beaded precum, making your lips change from red to a soft pink color.

a thin string of crystalline arousal drips from your puffy cunt wetting the pillow below you. as you sink your mouth back down on his cock, you take your fingers, gather your wetness from your begging slit and coat his shaft in the lewd substance. toji watches with a filthy smirk present on his handsome face. "nasty little girl, definitely trained you so well. now, back to it baby, don't keep that cock waiting," he emphasizes by holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail.

and so you don't, keep that cock waiting that is. both of your hands encase his engorged hard-on in a tight clasp. toji's balls scrunch up as you swallow down his manhood with vigor. "f-fuckkk," toji hisses at the accelerated rate you're sucking him off. with each bob of your head, you twist your hands with each up and down stroke at the same time.

focused. the focused look on your features has toji on the verge of cumming already. he may never see heaven but, this, with your obscene mouth working on his cock is all the heaven he needs. you start to suck harder. shit, shit, shit, toji thinks. "jus' tryin' to suck that cum out huh? good girl, work for it. work for my fuckin’ cum," he encourages, almost desperately.

the pleading tone in his voice egged you on. you wanted it, the need to make this man fall apart and fill your mouth up with his warm seed was almost demonic. and so, you kept moving. not stopping no matter the dull ache you felt in your neck and wrists. toji's low primal grunts and growls mixed with your pornographic gagging made music that could put symphonies to shame.

he's in ecstasy as the pang in his balls grows tighter and tighter until you moan around his stiff cock putting the final nail in the coffin. all words leave him as — forget stars, this man sees the whole solar system behind his eyes as deep guttural groans and curses tumble out of his parted scarred lips.

the bucking of his hips, perfectly fucking his thick cum down your throat as you swallow each spurt. after what feels like an eternity, his physique, damp with sweat weakens into the couch as he comes down from cloud nine. “whew, fuck, such a good pup for milking my dick. on all fours now baby, still got one more ‘n me.”

@shaguro @ich1koko @sugabie @chromimis — enjoy my lovelies !!! xoxo

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #fushiguro toji smut #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fic #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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itoshiexx · 2 months

Text

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you.

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair.

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you.

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them.

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend.

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions.

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone.

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear.

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you.

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?”

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen.

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one.

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more.

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom.

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes.

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours.

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining.

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

Text

SUCK ME UP, BUTTERCUP

eren discovers that you have an oral fixation and decides to exploit it.

content + themes: spit play, throat fucking, porn without plot, anal mentions, subby reader, daddy kink, light slapping, hair tugging, use of weed, this is super short just because he’s on my brain heavily.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

“Erennnn, quit playing. Hurry uppp.”

“Ooh, we’re impatient tonight, aren’t we? Alright, princess. Open up..”

the thump pad pressed gently into the center of your bottom lip, tugging it down to spread your mouth open. Seated on your knees, akin to that of a pretty little pup..you had been waiting for your husband to use you at his disposal. After all, it was his favorite activity. Especially when you were the one feigning for it. He’d gloss those beautiful lips with a sheen of saliva as he lobbed a trail down your throat. “That’s it…get it nice and wet f’r me.”

You were begging for it..begging for him to fill your oral hole with whatever he pleased; figuratively hungry for whatever he had to offer. He’d start the night off by getting you intoxicated with a shared spliff, one that had your pretty doe brown eyes glossed over in a sheath of red. He watched you salivate and pant from your high, pleading to have more than a blunt between those pretty lips. Something he was happy to oblige. So before long, he’d sit down in front of you, tugging down his Nike Tech sweats to reveal that stiff cock..standing at attention and seeping precum. “Oooh..shit. Look at what you do t’ me, baby. You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” which prompted you to giggle and drool even more. You’d reposition yourself on all fours, awaiting him to maneuver you as he saw fit. That plump ass wiggling around in the air as you arched your back, where he’d catch a glint of that bejeweled plug, that he’d let you suck on first, stuffed between it in the mirror behind you..he couldn’t ask for a better fucking view! He was looking forward to taking claim of it soon but for now…

“Stick that tongue out..lemme see.” Instructing with his fist enclosed around the shaft as he tapped it against your buds. You were so obedient and submissive; naturally, he just wanted to give his good girl whatever she wanted! Rewarding you with another healthy glob of spit, gently patting that tip against your tongue and feeding your face a couple light taps.“This what you been wanting, right? F’r me to fuck that throat?…don’t be shy, baby. Tell daddy what you want, I’m listening..” glaring down at you with a smug grin on his face..gently stroking himself to the sounds of you groveling for him to let you have it. With a gentle hand tucked between your freshly done hair, he’d listen to your filthy fantasies and all the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. And once he heard enough, you’d be granted your wish..

“Go ‘head, mama. Eat that fucking dick up. It’s all yours..” and immediately, you’d waste no time in dribbling those wet strings down his cock. Taking three or four inches on the first gulp. Bobbing your head up and down as if you had been starved for it. Swallowing and devouring your man with all you had. And needless to say, it didn’t take long for him to feel the effects.

“Oh!—fuck…you not playing fair, are you?” Finding himself gasping only a few short minutes into the rapid assault of your throat. Gagging sounds emitting all throughout the room as his head fell back against the headrest of his gaming chair.

“It’s all good, mama. Take that shit..you know what to do with it.”

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Note

I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨

Don't we all, nonnie?

You Asked for It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”

You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.

Dirty girl.

He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.

Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?

So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.

He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.

But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.

“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”

You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”

He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”

For now, he gets to work.

It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.

Yeah, I'm fucking those later.

“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”

“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.

“Harder,” you beg.

You asked for it.

Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.

“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”

“Your slut,” you moan.

He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”

He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.

He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.

And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.

Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

1K notes · View notes

purple-babygirl · 1 month

Note

welcome baaaack! i missed you so much

i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.

much love purple<3

Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.

Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms

A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)

perfect to me

“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.

Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.

It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.

He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.

“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.

“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.

“What?!”

“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.

“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.

“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.

“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.

“And now you’re too fat for her.”

“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”

“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.

“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.

“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.

“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.

“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”

The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.

“I saw her coming to his building with him.”

“How’d you even-”

“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.

“It’s probably someone else.”

“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”

“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”

“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.

“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.

The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?

He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.

His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.

All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.

“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.

Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.

Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.

She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.

She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.

“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.

“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.

For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.

“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.

“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.

“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.

“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.

“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”

“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.

“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.

“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.

“Why you’re here!”

“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”

“Do you really love me?”

This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.

“Of course I love you!”

“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.

“W—what?”

There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.

She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.

“What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”

“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.

“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.

“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“Leave, plum.”

“Bucky, me and Sam were—”

“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.

The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.

“Bucky!”

He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.

“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.

Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.

She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”

Bucky stared at her dumbly.

“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”

“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”

“Sweet plum-”

“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.

It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.

“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”

But this was big.

Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.

She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.

“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.

“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.

Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.

How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.

He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.

“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.

“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.

Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?

“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.

“Bucky.”

“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.

“Tell me what happened.” She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.

“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.

She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.

Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.

“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.

Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.

“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.

“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.

She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.

“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”

“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.

Bucky nodded.

“And you believed him?”

“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”

“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”

“Baby—”

“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”

“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.

She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.

“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.

“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.

Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.

Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.

This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.

“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.

Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.

“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.

Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.

“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.

“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”

She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.

“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”

Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.

“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.

Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…

She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.

He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.

“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.

Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.

Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.

“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.

“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”

Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.

His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.

“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”

Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.

When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.

No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.

She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.

Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.

“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.

“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.

“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.

“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.

“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.

“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.

“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”

“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.

“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.

Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.

She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.

“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.

She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.

“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.

She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.

“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.

“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.

“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.

“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”

“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.

“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.

“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.

“You know I do. Stop.”

“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”

“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.

“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.

“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.

“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.

Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.

“So much you’d let me take you again?”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.

And he wasn’t going to.

Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.

“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.

She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.

“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”

“I love you so much, plum.”

“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.

“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”

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658 notes · View notes

plasticferal · 3 months

Note

daddy chris and reader hate eachother but they accidentally take viagra and get horny and fuck 😜🤞🏼

chocolate | chris sturniolo.

this was such a unique concept to write so hopefully i did it justice. receiving oral, face sitting, daddy!kink so not for everyone, sorry. not proof read whoops. use of a sexual stimulant, explicit language. 18+ content. reader discretion is advised.

part two here.

your eyes grow heavy as you pull the blanket tighter around your body, head nodding drowsily onto the pillow you’ve stolen from chris’s room. matt is already asleep on the other side of the lounge, giving you your space. the moment you feel yourself completely give into your sleep, the weight of another body drops onto the lounge beside you, making your body jolt.

“move over.” you hear chris’s croaky and tired voice demand.

if there’s anyone in this house to interrupt your sleep, of course it’s going to be chris. he’s functioning at absurd hours, never in his own bed, always on a mission to find someone else who’s awake to keep him occupied. the fact it’s him switches your mood instantly, and you're annoyed.

“chris, what are you doing?” you whine, rubbing your face, looking up through foggy vision.

“can’t sleep.” his waist is where your head is.

he adjusts his body on the lounge cushion so that your pillow is essentially on his lap, tucked beneath the pillow your head lays on. if he wasn't so tired, you'd be wary that he's about to suffocate you with it. he hunches into the cushion, and you're forced to sit up now that he's undone your comfort.

“i was just about to fall asleep, asshole." you sigh, picking yourself up.

you fluff the pillow and bring it with you, hugging it to your chest as you sit back, shoulder to shoulder with chris now, both your bodies slouching into the lounge. you push him off of you.

he turns to look at you, a slight shadow of his facial hair gracing his jawline, his hair fluffy sitting like storm clouds on his head, eyes squinting slightly from exhaustion.

"is that my pillow?" he asks, not even looking at the item in your hand. he just knows, and wants a reason to be difficult.

“god i hate you” you grind your teeth together, refusing to even put up a fight.

you throw it at him, making sure it collides with his face as you do. chris swings the pillow in retaliation with a burst of energy and whips it against your shoulder, making you twist your face with anger and shove him.

chris's body drops back on the lounge and his brother stirs awake within seconds. matt looks pissed as he comes to, lifting his body up to see you and chris frozen and staring at him in anticipation. you're immediately guilt-ridden, hesitant to see what he has to say.

"fuckin', of course it's you two," he grumbles, stealing a blanket from the couch as he drags himself to his feet, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"sorry matty," you grimace, watching him as he aims for his bedroom.

"i'm going to bed, try not to kill each other." matt waves you both off, leaving you alone with chris in the semi-lit, silent room.

"nice one" chris teases, knowing how bad you'll be feeling having woken matt up, really rubbing salt into the wound.

"you're such a dick." you huff, scooting over to put a safe distance between you and chris. he blows a raspberry with thought, like a child.

"i'm hungry" he sulks to himself, in an artless tone while he scratches his forearm.

"that sucks for you." you reply, completely untroubled, scrunching your face in an ‘i didn’t ask’ manner.

your body hasn't been able to find another comfortable position and it's making you grow more distressed with every passing moment. the lounge shifts again, making you blow air out through tight lips, an exhale that reads 'i'm trying to keep my cool', and chris knows that.

you can tell he's more than happy to get under your skin by the smug look on his face, regardless of how tired he claims to be. he always has energy to piss you off.

chris shuffles off the lounge and moves slowly, lazily into the kitchen. he stretches his arms above his head, forcing his faded grey shirt to lift ever so slightly, and his sweatpants are dangerously low on his waist. the plaid boxers peeking through have an expensive brand plastered on the elastic that clings to his hips. it makes you roll your eyes.

you watch curiously to see what midnight snack he manages to find, and when he locates a stash of chocolate from a funky, unique candy store that he and his brothers all visited, he's hit the jackpot. the kitchen is only illuminated by the downstairs light, but you can see enough to observe him pour the grocery bag out onto the dining table, rummaging through all the individually packaged sweets.

as much as chris isn't one to share, you try your luck and make your way over. he groans at the sight of you, in a way that's like he knew you would appear, but didn't want it to happen.

"relax, i'll take what you don't like so i don't have to hear you complain." you speak wearily, starting to shuffle through the chocolates yourself.

"here," he holds out a candy wrapped in a bright pink wrapper.

you observe it in your hands. it has the words 'nice and naughty' written on it in a bubble font, and you assume it's a play on words, based on the fact that the chocolate is half milk chocolate and half dark chocolate.

"where did you guys get these?" you cross your face, having it be a complete mystery to you. you glance up at chris who just shrugs with a downward smile as he's still trying to find one he fancies.

"some obscure candy store in boston" he acknowledges. you choke out a laugh, at his expense.

"define obscure, chris" you grill him.

"you want the candy or not?" he looks at you with the aim of redirecting your question.

you put your arms up in defense, a smile pulling your lips as you wave him off as if to say, go back to what you were doing. you can tell he's not pleased with anything he's sifting through, getting hot and bothered.

"they all look gross," chris tosses whatever he had picked up with a 'i give up' tone.

"give me half of yours." he speaks casually, reaching for the one he quite literally passed you. you snatch it away from him, making him grasp at air.

"it's cute that you think we're that close." you satirize. chris huffs through a raspberry blow with his lips.

chris moves his jaw side to side with thought before grabbing your hand quickly, unexpectedly, and pulling you to his body with one fast swift movement.he's hovering over you, a strong grip around your much smaller, delicate wrist, compared to his rough hand.

"this close enough for ya?" he smiles with his teeth, the tip of his tongue peaking out slightly through his canines.

the slight drop in his eyes, the small head tilt, and the way he's looking at you with an unfamiliar alluring stare. you're trying not to pay attention to the way the shadows on his skin showcase his gentle muscles, the way his white tank exposes his collarbones and barely noticeable chest hair that you can only focus on because you're face to chest.

you pull your hand away from him with a scoff and unwrap the chocolate, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking him in the eyes. you do yourself a favor, to shut him up, and snap it in half. you throw the wrapper on the table for the time being.

without saying a word, you hold it out for him to take, sparing him the dark chocolate side because you know he doesn't like it. he has a puzzled look on his face, as if you're trying to punish him, but you're not.

"thanks," he says, sounding more like a question than a statement.

you both take a bite from your chocolate at the same time, and make a displeased face in sync with each other.

"that tastes terrible" he thinks aloud. you agree with him, a rare occurrence. usually, he just complains for the sake of complaining, especially when he knows it's going to irk you.

"i don't mind it" you don't actually believe your own words, but you're trying to be optimistic.

“of course you like it, you're weird.” chris speaks, blatantly.

you both finish the pieces off and chris licks his fingers, the residue of the slightly melted chocolate on his fingertips. you really can't help but watch as his cheeks sink in slightly and his lips wrap around his skin, making a small pop sound when he cleans his hand off.

chris chews obnoxiously loud, like the type of loud that usually sends matt into a fit. smacking his lips together, clicking his tongue on his teeth. despite it being such a small piece, he's eating it like there’s a whole pack of gum in his mouth.

"any louder and you'll wake up matt again" you speak, walking over to the sink to rinse your hands.

"any louder and you'll, shut up." he mocks your scolding before brushing you off and snapping the roof of his mouth with his tongue, to annoy you further.

“good comeback” you taunt with an eye roll, wiping the corner of your mouth clean.

you hear the crinkle of a wrapper and assume he's throwing it in the bin, but then he falls quiet, and you can sense his body is frozen.

"hey, y/n?" chris voice shifts into a serious tone, and you're not sure you've ever heard it before. not toward you at least.

“what?” you dry your hands quickly and skip back over to him, leaning over his shoulder to see what he's reading. your brain scatters with concern.

it could be expired, it could have an ingredient one of you is allergic to. it could be a dog treat for all you know, not like that would stop chris. his reaction gives little to nothing away.

chris straightens out the chocolate wrapper, holding it with both hands like you would hold an open book. you begin intently reading the small writing on the inside.

the black letters on the silver malleable foil reads, 'increases sex drive, enhances performance and stimulates blood flow. a nice treat for when you're feeling naughty'. your eyes almost pop out of your head.

snatching the wrapper from his hands, you need to make sure what you're seeing is correct. chris is rubbing his hands through his hair and you feel his shift in energy. he doesn't seem concerned, but he's not as composed.

"who the fuck packages sex chocolate like this?" your words are so harsh, and much louder than you need to be expressing.

"oh god don't say sex chocolate," chris covers his ears and hunches over as he paces around the living room, shaking his head like he's hearing something he's not supposed to.

"that's what it is!" you shake the wrapper in his face, letting out your frustrations onto him. you try to steady your emotions, and reaction, by simply throwing it in the bin.

chris shushes you with panic, knowing if his brother wakes up again, he's going to be the one that receives his wrath.

"who uses the word naughty on chocolate?" he matches your tone to a much less important piece of information.

"that's what you got from this?" your eyes feel like they could pop out of your head and you quickly shake it off, before you pass out from stress. he throws his arms up frenziedly.

“this is what i get for sharing my food” chris shakes his head, and all you want to do is slap it out of him. you crack your knuckles in frustration, inhaling at least a three second breath inward.

“it’s gonna be fine. it’s fine, just relax" you say with conviction, remembering to keep your voice down.

chris stops pacing and is standing still, leaning against a dining chair with a drained look on his face, arms folded and holding onto his elbows.

“i think you’re stressing more than me” he’s suddenly at ease again, finding some zen in being able to fixate on your emotions and reaction rather than his own.

“you’re the reason for all my stress, christopher” you spit. which is true, even if by accident.

"so, what happens now?" he waves his arms up again, always expecting someone else to hold the answers to what he has to ask.

"we don't think about it, it probably doesn't work anyway." you gloss over his question

“and if it does work?” he pries.

“you finally get to see a girl naked.” you tease with a flat look on your face, not looking at him while heading straight back to the couch that you don't plan on moving from again.

your next intention is googling what the effects are about to be, trying not to expose your concern. chris will just use it against you.

before you sit down, you hear chris swipe all of the chocolates into his arms and the metal clank of the bin opening and slamming shut. he moves quick, and knows the faster they're out of sight, they're out of mind.

the second you cuddle up again and pull your knees to your chest, you take your phone out to start investigating. chris follows your lead, and before you know it you're both silently tapping away at your phones, illuminating your focused faces.

all of your fatigue is now non-exist, and now you're wide awake with paranoia. or arousal. yet to be confirmed. it's evident that chris is in the same boat.

there's a long period of time where neither of you speak, and at some point chris had turned the t.v back on, volume low, filling in the white noise. whatever movie he started to play is about half way through when he finally speaks again, and for a second you were startled, forgetting about his presence.

"why does matt get a nickname and i don't?" you can feel him looking at you, phone down. you exhale with contemplation and turn to him, wondering what triggered his question.

“huh?” you raise an eyebrow, his question coming out of the blue.

“just answer the question” he hurries his words.

“do you want a nickname?” you remark.

“i’m just saying, something other than asshole or dickhead might be nice for a change.” he sounds sassy through his words, and it does make you realize you've never approached him the same as you do his brothers.

admittedly, you've always assumed he can handle it. your words escape your mouth out of frustration most of the time. he's never been inherently bad toward you, he just knows how to say all the right things to piss you off.

“so you want me to call you, like, chrissy?” you try to match your nickname for matty and nicky, versions of their names you throw around more or less because chris hates it.

“mm, nah.” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“how about like,” his words fall off with thought. chris smirks at you, a clear intrusive thought tempting his lips.

“daddy.” he blurts out, a slight croak in his suddenly deeper voice.

“you’re actually crazy if you think i’m calling you daddy" you emphasize the word sensually, but still impassively.

"what's crazy is that i didn't hate hearing you say it." he replies offhandedly.

you aren’t sure if it's a placebo effect or the aphrodisiac kicking in, but you flash back to chris tugging you toward his body, and suddenly you want to rewind, so you can throw yourself at him.

"do you think it's working?" you ask him with an outlandish desperate curiosity, aligning with the sudden shift in conversation.

“the freaky chocolate?” he asks, voice coarse and lightly croaky. you roll your eyes.

“no chris, the magic beans" your face drops to mirror the sarcasm seeping from your lips.

“i hate to break it to you but i think the chocolate is working” his shoulders jump with a small laugh. a devious laugh, like the next thought on his mind is one he has to hold back but can��t wait to say.

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on.

“is it?” you have to prompt him before the silence gets too tense.

“considering i wanna tear your clothes right now, i think it is." he's awfully calm.

"are you just saying that?" you ask brusquely.

"do you want me to prove it?" he shifts to sit up in his spot, rubbing his thighs as he waits for your response, on the edge of standing up.

"i want you to stop messing with me." as you finish your sentence, chris stands up and slowly, painfully slow, and begins to walk closer to where you lay.

"for once, i'm not. it's just giving me the confidence to admit what's running through my head."

"you can form your own thoughts?" you act surprised.

"yeah that's funny, kid" he brushes off your joke.

"well, go on. what's running through that head of yours?" you reel him back in, curious for him to express what's on his mind.

he steps up to the edge of the couch.

"that you look really good right now," his eyes are slightly squinted, and his head gives a slow nod, like he's agreeing with himself.

"you always do, honestly." he bounces one shoulder, as if it's not at all a big deal that he's complimenting you. something he simply does not do. he’s better at demanding praise rather than giving it.

chris stands over you, looking down at your body. your legs are arched and heels are on the couch cushion, slouching slightly. your heart race quickens.

there’s a weird, foreign confidence tingling through you. you clench your core, feeling your breathing become tight at the thought of being touched in any way right now. chris has always been attractive, you’re not blind. you just don't see eye to eye.

you've definitely had a few dirty dreams about him, and on top of that the bickering you two do, it gives you a little kick of adrenaline. you just actively choose not to make it easy on him, and have no intention of changing just because you’re getting turned on.

"good enough to be my next late night snack." his words have a playful undertone, but the look in his eyes is serious, and hungry, and he leans down further.

"that doesn’t turn me on." you deride.

“then i’ll keep talking until something does” his eyes widen slightly, like he’s daring himself with his prompt.

“is talking and eating all that mouth is good for?” the pure look you're giving him up through doe eyes, is making the smallest grin tug at his plump, peachy lips. all these little details about him that are being accentuated.

“eating, yeah” chris arches his body down, wrapping a hand around the back of the couch near your head and he casts a complete shadow over you. you shake your head with a disapproving attitude at his terrible frat boy attempt in dirty talk.

“actions speak louder than words” you reply seductively.

“is that an invite?” he gives a crooked smile and a head tilt, narrowing his eyes.

“fortunately for you, it is.” giving him the green light, you part your legs open, luring him in.

the silk pyjama shorts you have on riding up to the crease of your hips, and the fact you're not wearing any underwear makes the experience all the more exciting. chris shuffles on his knees between your legs.

his hand makes contact with your skin, making you hot. he slides his touch from your knee, up your thigh and finally to your waistband. at the same time, he leans in, tilting to the left while you naturally find yourself leaning to the right.

"i really wanna taste you" his voice is dark, but sweet, and your lips brush his before finally pressing hard together.

you feel your body ease instantly to your own surprise, and the kiss is almost perfectly orient. he dominates your bottom lip, grazing over it with his tongue.

there’s not a thought or care in the world from either of you. like there will be no repercussions after this, even though you're sure there will be. earlier in the night you were arguing over a pillow, and now, you’re fighting for dominance in a passionate makeout.

he juts further into your body with his hips, throwing your one leg he has in his hand over his waist, and you take the initiative to completely engulf his lower half. your heels dig into his lower back and pull him closer until his dick presses into your cunt.

the dark room and baggy sweats deceive you, his prominent boner pressing into you, making you moan into the kiss. his dick is already struggling to comfortably arch into your heat, restricted because of his clothes but also because his length clearly requires more room.

he immerses himself in your lips with the kiss, losing his composure and humming lowly with pleasure. your hands tangle into his hair, gripping his head and taking control of the kiss, bopping your heads in rhythm and chasing each other's mouths.

chris's hips grind down into you and you feel yourself become more needy, pushing up into him, to meet him where you both crave friction the most.

the grasp he has on your shorts loosens the moment he tugs them down. you thrust upward, levitating off the couch while still secure around his body to help him shuffle them off. the moment his eyes fixate on your naked heat, his jaw slacks open.

"wasn't expecting that" his voice shakes slightly, barely above a whisper.

“i don’t think either of us were expecting this” you get a little ego boost from how engrossed he is, and you give your hips a little wriggle to finally release from your shorts.

“you’re right” chris tosses your shorts to the side with a chuckle at your words.

“i usually am” you blush, and he rolls his eyes.

his hands are dancing all over your legs, embracing how smooth they are, and the smell of your scented lotion. he's exploring every inch of you. feeling his hands stroke up your thigh, your hands start to tingle and your head starts to spin.

"you said you wanna taste me, right?" you snap his eyes back up to yours, and he trails his lips with his tongue, adding a pleading nod.

"go ahead, chrissy." you flaunt the pet name, knowing it's not what he wants to hear. he exhales a smile, but shakes his head with dejection.

“if this is gonna happen, i'm gonna need you to use another word.” he orders.

"you want me to call you baby?" you feign ignorance, feeling like you only temporarily have this leverage over him.

chris's face changes quickly from a naive, compliant stare, to a more serious one.

"hey, don't be smart," he grabs your jaw, giving you a squeeze. your sudden desire to be a smart mouth escapes in one swift breath, letting his grip tighten.

"i'll make you feel good, y/n" he pulls your face closer.

you're willing to completely cave, and in the back of your mind you're convinced it's that dreadful chocolate's fault.

"just say it." he demands. your stomach flutters, a cold chill swirling through it.

the word is dancing on the tip of your tongue, but your stubbornness when it comes to chris has you struggling to spit it out. the dynamic has completely shifted, and at this point you're just delaying time.

it's almost like he knows your tactic, and strategically rolls his hips into you hard, making sure you feel his long hard cock against your cunt, shamelessly getting your wetness all over his sweatpants.

"daddy" you gasp against his open mouth, finally let it spill from your mouth, spiteing yourself for giving in to his dominance.

“good girl.” he smirks, pulling your face to his to slam a rough kiss together. your stomach knots at the sound of his gravelly voice.

you’re chasing him with your lips, a whine escaping as he pulls back, forcing you to tilt your head to the side. messily he begins kissing down your cheek, jaw, chin, neck. making his way further down your throat with his lips until he passes your collar bone, tugging and tearing at your shirt to meet your skin.

your body is arching into his and you’re trying to grasp at his hair, following his movements. watching and feeling him devour your skin with hungry kisses.

“so soft,” he mumbles against your lower stomach, just below your belly button.

“so sweet.” he praises, licking his lips before he grabs your knees, steadying himself at your heat.

his face is situated between your thighs, but his hand is still on your face. he squeezes and grabs at your face, two fingers pushing into your mouth. you moan and take them across your tongue, wrapping your lips around his thick, warm fingers.

wrapping your hand around his wrist, you tighten your grip when you feel chris’s mouth attach to your pussy, open and tongue flat against your folds. closing his mouth onto you, he sharpens his tongue and lets it flick side to side at a fast, aggressive pace. he’s letting pleasure-filled sounds escape from his mouth, humming and huffing when he needs to catch his breath.

“f-fuck, oh my god,” you throw your head back, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to speak but letting his hand fall to your chest.

the feeling of him shaking his tongue so passionately against your cunt is making you need to hold your breath, to stop yourself from being loud. you feel yourself grow a more thick wetness between your legs, and his tongue scoops into your opening, swallowing every taste he can pick up.

“chris, chris, sh-shit” your voice trembles in a hushed tone, feeling a mix of overwhelming delight and panic of the reality of everything hitting you suddenly.

“what was that?” he pulls away for a second, asking with tease. his hand grabs your throat but his mouth is still eating you with desire, sucking and licking every inch he can travel over.

“i’m not saying it again” you almost want to laugh, exhaling and twisting your face as you feel him wave over your clit, your body reacting by thrusting into his face.

“oh you will” chris speaks smug, the tip of his nose taking over the pressure on your clit and he uses it to his advantage, keeping it there but simultaneously circling his tongue around and around just below your hood.

suddenly, chris hooks his hands on the underside of both your knees, forcing you to flip over as he turns his body. his ass is planted on the floor, his back is pressed to the couch, and you’re straddling his face now. his head is resting on the couch cushion looking up, and you’re able to support yourself on your hands and knees, looking down.

chris groans into your pussy. his hands, firm, strong hands, grab your buttocks and drag you down onto his waiting mouth. you brace yourself against the armrest of the couch. when you look down, you gaze upon chris’s closed eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, hair already a mess from where your thighs are messing it up. you add your hand to his scalp, lightly scratching and pulling.

“f-fuck, that feels good, s’good”, you whine, biting your hand to try and drown them out, while his tongue draws patterns into you, his nose still utter perfection against your clit.

“you like this, huh? fucking my face with this pretty fucking pussy” his voice is so strained and laced with filth.

stifling your thrusts and thirsty grinds on his face is not an option, and you know that chris is taking some pride in receiving all of your wanton movements and paving them into a road of an earth-shattering orgasm.

his hands don’t hold still, continually roaming your hot flesh, sometimes pressing you further into his face, sometimes dragging you away, always aiming for your best stimulation. his occasional moans vibrate your very core, making your pussy pulse with pleasure.

“more, more, more”, you beg breathlessly, and he gives it to you, but not without slapping a hard firm whip to your ass with the palm of his hand.

“more, what?” he growls, smacking his lips together and swallowing your flavors.

“fuck you.” you groan.

“something you won’t get to do if you don’t start behaving” chris fully detaches his mouth from your dripping pussy and you try with all your efforts to roll into his face, to regain some friction.

chris pulls back, and slaps your ass again hard. you wince, but more at the fact of how loud the impact is. the last thing you want is to wake anyone else up, especially in this position.

“more, daddy. fuck” you beg, still refusing to use manners. you’re both equally putting up a fight. with that, he gives it to you until your legs shake and your abs are tight. you are so, so close to coming, and you finally, blissfully do when chris’s tongue laps at your clit in just the right way.

“better.” you feel him smile against your pussy, as he then bites your inner thigh quickly. your orgasm draws much louder than you intended, hoarse groans out of you that eventually peter out into whimpers.

chris doesn’t stop licking you, making your legs shake in the air. he only slows down and is as gentle as your sensitive clit needs after his hungry attack. you feel ready to collapse, so you carefully shimmy off his body, dropping backwards onto the lounge, feeling your skin sticky and sweaty.

he follows you, clawing his way up the lounge to follow your body. he’s panting, wiping his mouth clean but staring down at his hands, admiring the glistening cum you’ve lathered his chin, cheeks and lips with. chris drops next to you, shoulder to shoulder. for once, you don’t want to push him away from you. you can hear his thundering heartbeat. you can feel his still hard cock against your ass.

“we should probably,” you’re trying to catch your breath as you speak, taking a moment.

“-should probably do something about that” you lazily point to his crotch, making him look down and gain a double chin as he notices what you’re mentioning.

“you mean before the effects wear off?” chris huffs a laugh. you turn over to rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

“i mean before you start complaining about it” you reply jocosely, and he rests both of his hands behind his head.

“i’ve got nothing to complain about right now. not with the taste of you still on my tongue” he sounds genuine, like he’s still reminiscing about the act of eating you out.

“i’ve still got the taste of the chocolate lingering” you frown.

“we can fix that” chris turns into you, resting a hand on your waist. you take the prompt before he continues, and pull yourself onto his lap, straddling his thighs.

you lower your face toward his chest, shuffling further down his lap while obtaining eye contact and watch as chris’ breath hitches. he bucks his hips forward lightly, making you bounce, and the way your tits react to the movement has him drooling.

he breathes out heavy through his nose, licking his lips and watching as you slide down toward his cock.

“my turn.”

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot

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roanniom · 9 months

Text

Sting

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, slapping/spanking (consensual), PIV/unprotected sex, major switch energy from both parties here, dirty talk and light degradation

You know that thing at some wild bars where you can pay to take a shot and then get slapped by a hot bartender and then splashed with a cup of water?

Eddie Munson is the guy who rushes to the bar and slams a crumpled stack of bills down, a massive smile on his face as he hollers and asks for the “special.” When you climb onto the bar with the shot he steps between your thighs with a massive smirk. He’s been flirting with you for weeks outside of the bar and you’re more than happy for him to finally crowd your personal space (when he found out you do this at your part time job he’d insisted he was visiting that very night). The minute he shoots back the gulp of tequila, you rear back, wind up, and let loose a massive slap, cracking him right against his left cheek. He reels to the right with the force of the impact, but before he can recover, you empty the contents of a plastic cup of water across his stunned face.

Eddie’s soaked features expand into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. He stares at you, a little dazed, heavy hands dropping to your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh bruisingly. You grin right back, leaning in with a hand on his neck so you can whisper.

“Looked like you liked that,” you tease. It’s a relatively empty bar. Pretty much an off night. So nobody hears when Eddie puts a hand on your neck and pulls you so he can whisper in your ear.

“I’m so fucking hard right now, it’s insane.”

You laugh at that, covering your face with your hands. The whole point of the gimmick is to play into guys’ fantasies - grown men had uttered wet, stuttering proposals to you before - but there’s something different here with Eddie. You’d been tiptoeing around your chemistry with one another ever since Robin had invited you to that party at Steve Harrington’s house. The heat between you was just waiting to finally ignite.

“Masochist,” you throw at him.

“Sadist,” he counters pointedly. His hand rubs into the softness of your inner thigh, moving dangerously close to your center. Especially for this being your place of work. Luckily there’s only a few drunks left in the both by the front door, so they can’t see.

“Who, me?” you play along.

Eddie’s finger dips under the hem of your cutoff shorts.

“You’re telling me you didn’t just get off on slapping me?”

“Well I know you got off on being slapped, so…” you trail off, winding your arms around his neck and interlocking your fingers over his nape. Eddie scoffs.

“Well obviously. Hence the whole me being ‘so fucking hard right now’ part.” His thumb glides a cheeky line down the center seem of your shorts. Right over your slit. “I’m not the one playing coy here, baby doll.”

“The bar is closed!” you call out abruptly. Startled by your sudden change in volume Eddie steps back from you, giving you space to hop down from the bar. You clap your hands to get the dull attention from the single occupied booth.

“You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

Eddie chuckles behind you, resting his forehead against the smooth mahogany of the bar to keep from beaming his smugness throughout the rest of the establishment.

“But it’s not even—,” one of your regulars winds up to argue but you go over to the door and flip the sign, slapping the ‘closed’ sign against the glass.

“Stuart if you don’t get your ass out this minute I swear to god.”

~*~

With the bar empty of patrons, the only sounds left are the moans and heavy grunts issuing from you and Eddie respectively as he fucks you on the couch in the manager’s office. The one perk of having the shittiest closing shift with the worst manager is that you’re left to lock up and therefore are free to defile his furniture in piece.

Eddie’s got you on your hands and knees, ass on the air as he pummels into you with unforgiving thrusts.

“Holy fuck you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His hands are heavy on your hips, moving every few seconds to squeeze the dip of your waist or grope the round of your ass.

“Back at ya, pretty boy,” you manage to respond breathlessly.

“You’re teasing me, but I mean it. Your fucking attitude. This fuuuuhcking body. Shit.” He seems beside himself, overwhelmed with need even though he is literally in the middle of fucking you. In a moment of extreme stimulation he lands a sharp spank to your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles with the force.

“Eddie!” you cry out, though there’s a laugh in your tone.

“You liked that?” he asks gruffly. When you nod and moan, he spanks you again, this time on the other cheek. “Of course you do. You were ripped from my wettest fantasies, you’d have to love getting spanked.”

“Mmmm not as much as you loved getting slapped,” you tease, mouth half open against the ratty fabric of the couch, seconds from drooling over how great he’s making you feel.

Suddenly your world gets upended as Eddie rips you up from the couch, shifting and hoisting so that he is now sitting up against the back of the couch with you straddling his lap. You’re dazed by the change in position and you grab at him weakly to maintain your balance.

Eddie gazes back at you with a drunken grin on his face.

“Do it.”

“Wha–ahh…” You are distracted by him lowering you back down on his cock. This angle comes with gravity on your part, and sinking down on him means that you feel him deeper than before. Deeper than you’ve ever felt a lover before.

“Eyes on me, baby doll,” Eddie coos, placing one big hand on your neck. You’re suddenly pretty out of it. So Eddie gives you some time to adjust to the new fullness you’re experiencing, placing light kisses over your cheeks, jaw, and neck. When you begin trying to roll your hips, Eddie drops his hands heavy on your waist to stop you.

“Slap me.”

Your eyes go wide, and clarity seeps into your system.

“Yeah?” you ask. A grin tugs at the corner of your mouth. Eddie nods emphatically.

“Yeah. C’mon. Hit me.”

You lift your hand up and place it lightly on his cheek.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it outside of the ‘special’ before,” you giggle. Eddie smiles at your hesitation but slaps lightly at your ass.

“C’mon. Do your worst, baby doll. I can take it.”

You take a deep breath before pulling your arm back and delivering a solid slap to his left cheek. Eddie lets out a massive moan, matched only the way his cock twitches inside you - hard.

You bring your hand back to his cheek to sooth over the pink spot forming where you struck him.

“Feels good, pretty boy?”

“Oh yeah,” he says gruffly, having the presence of mind to at least look a little sheepish.

“I could tell,” you laugh, rolling your hips against his. This time he doesn’t stop you, and you’re able to see park yourself up to a vigorous bounce. Your ass smacks against his thighs as you ride him, and eventually Eddie devolves into filthier and filthier dirty talk as he slowly loses his mind.

“Fuck. Closing the bar to get fucked in the back. So bad, baby doll. Such a bad girl.” He sucks at the swell of your breasts as you laugh. “Why are you laughing? Having fun being a little slut, huh? Of course you are.”

“Sooo much fun, Eddie,” you whine. You’ve been on the precipice of an orgasm for the past five minutes, and his words are working overtime to get you over the line. “Oh fuck, there. Right there!”

Eddie begins bucking his hips rapidly, taking over fucking up into you, all while continuing to prod at the same spot deep inside of you.

You cum in an eruption of moans and shakes, writhing in Eddie’s lap while he continues lifting you up and down his cock, fucking you through the sensation. Stars cloud your vision and it takes a while for you to get enough deep breaths into you to get your bearings again.

When you do, Eddie is still rutting up into you, somehow more desperate than before. A cute pinch in his features that has you aching for him, an aftershock quaking through your pussy.

“Look so…fuck….so pretty when you cum, baby doll,” he does his best to rasp. You ground your hands on his shoulders and continue to ride him. Letting him use you to hurtle towards his own end. You feel like you want it for him more than you even wanted your own.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie,” you hum, voice raw. Your hand slides up his sweaty neck to rest over his flushed cheek. “My pretty boy.”

“Mmmm yours,” he slurs, gazing up at you with eyes. A thrill of possession runs through you. No you haven’t known him long, but there’s something electric about the push and pull you have with Eddie. It’s hot and heavy and sick and sweet and you can’t help but feel a need to own him, as he seems to own you.

“You’re mine?” you ask, though he’s the one who just instigated that concept fully.

He nods, but his eyes slide closed as you bring him even closer to the edge. You slap lightly on his cheek for attention and he moans, eyelids rocketing up.

“Harder.”

You do as he says, slapping him on the other cheek this time. It is harder but Eddie grunts as he picks up the pace, fucking up into you.

“Harder.”

You slap him again, and he blinks before groaning, his hips beginning to stutter and lose their steady rhythm.

“Fuck me, harder! Please!”

The begging breaks you.

You slap him, hard, and then lurch forward to swallow his gasp as his jaw drops and eyes roll back. You kiss him while he stiffens in your arms, his hot spend spurting into you. Your hands close over his cheeks to cradle him to you, cooing against his lips and working him through his pleasure with steady, shallow rolls of your hips.

“That’s it, pretty boy. Came so good for me,” you whisper, open mouthed kisses raining down on his cheeks as you hold him.

After several minutes of shuddering breaths, Eddie let’s put a hoarse laugh.

“Fucking Christ. What was that?”

You laugh along with him, lifting his chin to look into his hazy eyes.

“That was you cumming your brains out to me slapping the shit out of you.”

“You’re a poet,” Eddie snorts. His hand traces lazy shapes into the bare expanse of your lower back.

“Oh I’m sorry is there a classy way of describing what just happened?” you counter with humor. Eddie shrugs.

“I found ecstasy on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain with my woman in my arms.”

You dissolve into a fit of laughter than he can only suppress by dragging you against him in a hug and muffling your face against his chest.

After the struggle dissipates, you slump boneless in his arms, content to be held. You press a kiss to his chest.

“Your woman?” You quote back to him. Eddie huffs.

“Well I’d hope this ownership thing is a two way street if I’m gonna be yours, baby doll.”

For a second you don’t answer and his blood runs cold, worrying he may have been presumptuous, taking what you said in a moment of passion at face value. But then you’re looking up at him with a dazzling smile.

“You’re gonna regret this, Munson. I bet a collar would look really pretty on you.” You reach up and trace a finger around the circumference of his neck, watching the muscles and tendons work as he swallows, the skin there flushing a beautiful red.

You don’t get a chance to do anything else before you’re flipped again, suddenly on your back. You hiss at the sudden extraction of Eddie’s cock, but the hiss becomes a gasp when it’s slapped down on-top of your clit, suddenly hard and swollen again.

Eddie’s hand comes down to wrap lightly around your throat and your eyes light up, a big smile on your face.

The man above you stares down at you.

“Was thinking the same about you, baby doll.”

When he slaps your ass it stings.

Good.

~*~

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Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson thots #stranger things smut

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apparentlytheproblem · 8 months

Text

if was your boyfriend, never let you go keep you on my arm girl, you'd never be alone

druig recomendations

perfectly busy - @tokkiotears

lemme just say, HUSBAND DRUID OML. and I'm just a sucker for a confident and king Druid behavior. absolutley adoring this to no ends, smn send help, I forgot how to function. the not really complete without you got me. oh god. just o h g o d. i just feel like i should comment on the narrative, it was so well done and just hit the spot i didn't even know I had.

warnings-

not proofread, annoying men, druig in a button-up with the sleeves rolled up

"this isn't over" - @peterparkersnose

bro this slapped in so many different levels, like excuse me. And druig who shares books and annotates? and smug druig? godamn. the sexual tension- smn keep him away from me before i fall in love.

warnings-

angst, privacy invasion, accidental nudity, sexual tension, falling in love with something you could never have-?

sunshine - @itsapeterthing

firstly, i fell in love with the writing, its so stunning. it has such a fun and flowery vibe surrounding it which makes me just gush oml. it was just so sweet. AND how he gets flustered- literally hit all my marks and exceeded them. i hope you never stop writing these, they make my soul lighter.

warnings: eternals insulting druig as always, fluff

how could they not know? - @saintlike78

to start of, i love a vocal man who can tell you that he missed you. the scene itself was so soft. just love sick druig running back to your arms and you're wearing his shirt mwahh. i find it hilarious how no else has even noticed this happening before, my oblivious fools. its so adorablee.

warnings-

nothing but fluff really, dialog heavy.

hold - @redheadspark

bro, my love, angel, the gif itself got me a blushing mess, you have no idea what the fic did to me sheesh. i love a man who was so acceptable about her fear and so re-assuring, that's so perfectly written. i also love how the author has written these thoughts in her head as well as the internal debate. it just left me in awe i swear.

warnings-

Just a hint of angst but mostly fluff

warmth - @stranger-nightmare

these are one of my favorite's that I've encountered. the end was just lovley. Just the plot of this drabble has me on my knees. it was wonderfully thought and wonderfully written. the author has left no crumbs.

warnings-

one case of swearing, a lil bit of fluff, a whole lotta angst, nakedness but it’s not in a sexual way

boyfriend headcannons - @luventi

just a bunch of head cannons which i thought were amazing. overall its just so cute and has me screaming, crying and throwing up. honestly very underated.

warnings-

druig x gn eternal!reader, au where everyone is alive and happy and together, there will be dashes of suggestive content admits all the fluff so be warned!

shy lover - @writing-wh0re

[ it didn't have a title so I gave it this, I hope the author doesn't mind]

felt that this was just a must included, i don't wanna really have to summarize this cause there wasn't a single line that did not fail to have me hypnotized. just lovley work

warnings-

Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Male Performing Oral, Praise Kink (both), Begging Kink (?), Slight Cocky Druig, Cum kink (?)

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charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia boss price #mafia!au #assistant!reader #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #john price x reader #john price #john soap mactavish

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harunovella · 2 months

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse v); s.g.

synopsis: it's utahime's birthday and you play spin the bottle... bonus, you're tipsy! content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven (probs done wrong? idk), semi-first kisses, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: here's another one shot for my gojo anthology series! I found out it's utahime's birthday (2/18) so I managed to pull something together for this lil series (happy birthday utahime)! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"Happy birthday, Utahime!" Shoko exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the dark haired girl, clinking her beer with hers as the two chugged. There was an obvious buzz in the air, not only them, but everyone else. Mei Mei managed to get a private room where no one would question what was going on inside, seeing as some of the attendees were underage—yourself included. Your interest had always been piqued by it, this not being the first time your friends had beer around you. However, this was your first time having it... And you weren't the only one.

"Who would've thought you were a lightweight," Mei Mei piped as she nudged Gojo with her shoulder. "You never bothered to drink with us before, what's changed your mind?" Smirking at him, already knowing the answer, the older woman gazed at the white haired boy as his cheeks burned a bright pink. His eyes shifted in your direction—where you had been huddled up with the birthday girl and Ieiri. "Oh, trying to impress someone, huh?"

"Shut up," Gojo mumbled, rubbing his cheeks as his body slightly swayed. "I didn't want to be a party pooper..." Eyeing you as you laughed, Satoru felt his heart race faster than it ever had in his life. He blamed it on the alcohol. "It tastes like shit."

"Then why do you keep drinking it?" Geto asked, now settled beside his best friend. "You hate beer, the first time you tried it at Shoko's birthday was enough to stop you."

"It's because he's trying to impress little miss sweetheart over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. Suguru looked over, not surprised that he was doing this just to look cool in front of you.

"She's not gonna care if you hate it, Satoru," Suguru nudged him. "This is her first time, too."

"That's exactly... why," Gojo hiccuped. "If she can do it, so can... I!" He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig. Instantly hissing at the taste, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, Geto laughed beside him before patting his back. "I'm trying to find a way to enjoy this but, god it's aw—"

"Satoru!" You exclaimed, waving at him before stumbling over. Falling to your knees in front of him and smiling wide, waving your own bottle before him. "This is really good, right?" You asked, realizing he had chosen the same beer as you.

"Y—" choking on his words, Suguru smacked his back. "Yeah! To— Totally!"

Giggling, you made your way beside him as Mei Mei crawled away to sit with the other girls. "This is so much fun... what a great party," you beamed, leaning your head on his shoulder. Gojo grew stiff, grip on the bottle tightening as his free hand clutched onto his knee. Geto sat there with a smug grin, an idea coming to mind as his focus shifted towards the empty bottles.

"Hey, I've got an idea," he spoke up, moving onto his knees to grab an empty bottle. "Let's play spin the bottle, hmm?"

"Yes!" Utahime nodded, tugging on Shoko's sleeve and waving for Mei Mei to move over so they could form a circle.

"That'll be fun!" You nodded after lifting your head from Gojo's shoulder, grabbing his wrist so he could join you.

He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or maybe he was hyper aware, but you were being more touchy with him. Normally, you kept things cordial, constantly smiling or laughing with him as he was the one finding ways to touch you... Now with the tables turn? His heart was basically at the pit of his stomach, slightly trembling as you sat practically thigh to thigh with him.

"Okay, let's do truth or dare," Suguru said as he settled the bottle, "whoever it lands on has to answer. Got it?" Seeing everyone nodded, the dark haired man grinned as he eyed his best friend, who basically looked like he was disassociating from the world.

"Let's go!" Utahime exclaimed before clapping.

"Birthday girl has the honor," Suguru nodded as Utahime beamed before reaching over to spin the bottle.

Everyone watched with curious eyes, and like that, one by one everyone took a turn to spin the bottle. Most answered with truth, only to earn an annoyed groan from Mei Mei saying how things need to change up.

Spinning the bottle, Mei Mei smirked as it landed on Gojo, "truth or dare, blue eyes."

Gulping, he eyed everyone as they eagerly watched him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat up, "dare."

"Finally," Shoko mumbled as Utahime stifled her laughter.

"Perfect, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with cutie over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. "No take me backs, get in there," she pointed at the tiny supply closet behind the two of you. Gojo looked over with hesitation as you blushed.

"Okay!" You nodded, standing up and grabbing his hand to join you.

He felt like he had no control over his body, following you along the way and nearly tripping over his own feet as you practically shoved him inside once opening the door. Watching as you followed inside, shutting the door behind you as you were pressed against one another, Satoru held his breath. Looking down at you with wide eyes as your own looked up at him, hooded, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you smiled up at him. "We've got seven minutes in here..." you said.

"You— you think they'll make us... stay that long in here?" He stuttered as you shrugged, only to shyly look away.

"I hope so..." you admitted, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Eyeing you and wanting nothing more than to touch you, Gojo clenched his fists at his sides before throwing his head back. His mind was racing, thoughts rushing around as he felt not only your hands on him, but your whole body. It took his entire being—and willpower—to fight the blood rushing towards a place it shouldn't be. Not in a moment like this. Even if it was meant for that. "You... Uh..."

"Hm?" You looked up at him as he lowered his focus to meet yours.

"N— Nothing, heh..." he awkwardly looked away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck.

"Satoru..." you spoke up.

"Yeah?" He mumbled.

"Please look at me..." you begged but he stubbornly kept his eyes on the wall beside him. "Toru..." you quietly spoke as the man shivered at the sound of his nickname. "Please..."

Feeling your hands snake their way up to his face, you gently turned his head to look at you. "I— I—"

"At a loss for words?" You tilted your head, teasing him as he blinked. "Can I kiss you?"

Feeling his heart sink as you gazed up at him with lazy eyes, Gojo took in deep breaths, "you— you want to... kiss me?" He asked, gulping.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to..." you nearly whispered, causing Satoru to shiver yet again. The feeling of your nails gently caressing his skin as you didn't bother to look away, Gojo squeezed his eyes shut. How were you being the bold one? How did you have the power to always turn him into mush? Sure, you had liquid courage, but even when you weren't tipsy you had him so easily wrapped around his finger! "Toru?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Yes... I can?" You asked as he nodded again.

"Please..." he whispered, begging. He knew this wasn't the right time to get his first kiss from you (or ever) but he was so desperate and so needy. He should've said no, should've said another time. However, he was a teenage boy. He didn't entirely use common sense...

Tiptoeing as you tugged him down gently, hands moving to the back of his neck, your lips pressed against his. Feeling his heart in his throat as he gazed at your closed eyes, Gojo's shaky hands settled on your hips as he kissed you back, indulging in this (what felt like) once in a lifetime opportunity. Surely neither of you would never forget.

"So, how was it?" Shoko asked as she sat beside you on a bench, enjoying a pair of strawberry milk boxes during your break from training.

"How was what?" You tilted your head.

"Your seven minutes in heaven with Satoru," she chuckled, only to earn a confused look from you. "Y'know, last night?"

"Seven minutes in heaven with Satoru?" You asked as she nodded. "I don't remember that..."

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

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beastofbrden · 9 months

Text

four times you and James were accidentally caught carrying pieces of each other + one time you did it on purpose| J.P

boyfriend!james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader

word count: 3.773 content: fluff, "secret" relationship warnings: reader has hair long enough to wear ribbons, not proofread notes: i love love love 4+1 fics and this is my first attempt at writing one. p.s girls when james potter can't be their boyfriend😫 i listened to littlest things while writing this :)

- Hi, Jamie - you went to give him a quick kiss hello when you met at the hallway. When you distanced yourself, he pouted.

- Another one - he begged. You did as told, but when you distanced yourself a second time, he sighed in exasperation - Come here, will ya?

He held your face with his strong hands as he kissed you for a long moment. Your heart went crazy on your chest with the familiar taste of his lips and the warmth of his palms. When the kiss ended, he pulled away slowly, but kept his hands on your face, delicately brushing a few rebel strands of hair away.

- I’ll take this as you’ve missed me? - you teased, your eyes glimmering in the way they only do when you’re around James.

- Are you teasing me, missy? - he faked an overdramatic expression of offense.- And me here, thinking that you’ve missed me too, after such a long time we’ve been apart!

- We’ve had one separate class, drama queen. - you rolled your eyes at him.

- Well for me, it was a lot. But if you don’t miss your boyfriend, that’s fine… - He faked a hiccup and cleaned an imaginary tear from his eye.

- I’ve seen you this morning - you lowered your voice into a knowing whisper - Remember?

He dropped the act at the mention of the earlier morning and smirked in that cheeky way that made your heart beat two times faster.

- How could I forget…- He reached to snake his arms around your waist.

- Shh! James, stop. I think I’ve heard someone - You stepped away from him. You had heard talking somewhere around the corner of the empty hallway you were both in. You and James kept a distance as a group of third years passed by. They giggled when they recognized James Potter, the Quidditch captain, and your boyfriend, being the tease he was, waved at them, making them almost faint.

- They would miss me if i was their boyfriend, y’know - He said, and just like you predicted, he was wearing that pompous smirk he had when these things happened.

- You’ve eaten a little clown for breakfast today? - You rolled your eyes at him.

- No need to get that jealous of your competition, Y/N. - You crossed your arms and frowned. He laughed, placing his arms around you. - Even though you don’t miss me, you’re my favorite girl.

- Even though you’re a smug prick, I did miss you. A lot.

- A lot? But it was just one class… - He mocked your previous words in a high pitched tone.

- It was one class too many - Your heart turned into mush as you looked into his eyes, not being able to keep yourself from kissing him again.

Just a month before, being with him like this was just a beautiful, distant daydream in your head. You both were pining and longing for each other, handling what you both thought was an unrequited love for your best friend. Now, you and James were into that honeymoon phase of the relationship where you just couldn’t keep your hands (or your mouths) off from each other. That was logistically complicated, since you had decided to go slow and keep things a bit more private. You were just discovering the sweetness of finally belonging to one another, and you had the opinion that the gossip that would obviously arise from your relationship would take away some of that joy. So, for now, you were happy keeping it just between you two and the Marauders.

- What class do we have now?

- Hmmm...Charms? Yeah, I think so. I’ll meet you there, I gotta give McGonagall some papers.

- Alrighty - you agreed, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. - Don’t take too long.

- I think we both know I can’t stay away from you too long - he smiled.

James walked the hallways in that strut that he liked to deny having. Everyone was already inside the classrooms to resume the classes after lunch. He knocked on McGonagall’s door.

- Turn to page 278 to read about Vero Verto - James heard the professor’s voice getting closer to the door as she instructed the first year students she was teaching. - Silently.

- Good morning, Minnie. - He greeted McGonagall with a smile.

- Hm, good morning, Potter - He adored McGonagall, and he knew she liked him too, specially for bringing Gryffindor multiple Quidditch championships, but the professor was never one to smile loosely. However, the way she was scanning his face through her half moon glasses, her eyebrows furrowing even more than usual, made him uneasy.

- I just passed by to bring my homework, and… -

- What is that on your face, Potter? - She questioned abruptly. Her question caught the students’ attention, and all eyes turned to James. The room erupted with laughter.

- Silence! - She commanded, her harsh tone making them quiet down, settling for muffled giggles and whispers.

- On my face? - James touched his cheek.

- Yes, Potter. There is a lipstick stain on your cheek.

He felt the blood draining from his face: Y/N’s lipstick must have stained his skin when she kissed him.

- Ah, that’s nothing, Minnie - he brushed his cheek aggressively. The rubbing must have only smeared the lipstick, because the class bursted into an even louder fit of giggles, this time followed by kissing sounds. - The girls these days, y'know…

The professor grabbed the papers he was carrying.

- Go clean yourself, Potter. - She eyed him suspiciously before closing the door with a bang.

- I think she’ll eventually forgive you, Marls. There’s no way she would break up with you for such a silly thing.

- I don’t know, Y/N, she seemed really hurt this morning…

You gave Marlene a side hug, hoping to give her some solace. You had been comforting her since lunch, when she came to tell you about the fight she had had with Dorcas.

- Give her some time, yeah? I’m absolutely sure she’ll come around. I mean, she’s head over heels in love with you.

- You think so? - she looked up at you with hope in her red, puffy eyes

- I know so - You reassured her with a smile.

It was a windy afternoon, and a sudden intense breeze rushed through the castle’s yard, where you were walking with Marlene towards the Astronomy tower. Your scarf, loosely hanging around your neck, got carried by the wind.

- Ah, crap! - You started chasing it as it flew. Marlene started helping you, and after jogging a bit, she was able to fetch it.

- Here - she handed it to you.

When you went to grab it, her eyes seemed to notice something in the end of the scarf. A sudden rush of panic flooded you as you noticed what it was: James’ initials.

You both had left his dorm in a hurry this morning (as usual), because he made you late (as usual). You two lost track of time, and before you noticed, there was only ten minutes left for you to get ready, get something for breakfast and get to Flitwick’s class. You had gathered your uniform where you had left it ready the night before, but you must’ve grabbed his scarf instead of yours, somehow.

- Is this…? - Marlene’s hand brushed the yellow embroidered J.F.P. At first, she looked confused, but when recognition downed on her, she squinted her eyes at you with a smirk - Is this James’?

Marlene had always teased you about James, making fun of how oblivious you were to his obvious crush on you. She was one of your best friends, and you could tell her the true reason why you were with James' scarf, and she would surely be over the moon for you. You were tired of hiding your relationship, but since you hadn’t talked to James, you'd have to lie, again.

Now, you couldn’t deny it was James’ scarf, because there weren’t many James Fleamont Potters around Hogwarts, so it would be, theoretically, only half a lie.

- Yeah - You tried to conceal the sudden high pitch of your voice, granted for when you lied - It’s James’. He lent me his this morning, since, you know, it’s windy and I lost mine, uh… at the lake. It fell and I think the squid got it. You know how sneaky that little guy is, always fetching things. Anyways, thanks, Marls!

You laughed awkwardly and got the scarf away from her hands. As you tied it safely around your neck, you smelled a strong whiff of James’ scent. You didn’t know how you hadn’t noticed that you had gotten his scarf, maybe because you were already used to his scent, spending all the time wrapped around him. It would’ve been a plausible lie if you hadn’t gotten nervous and thrown all that squid nonsense in there. You felt like a kid getting caught eating ice cream before dinner. Your face burned when Marlene said in a casual tone, while clearly holding in a laugh:

- I could swear that I saw your scarf on your neck last night….

- Potter!

James lifted his head from his parchment as Frank Longbottom called out his name. You and him had been doing Potions homework in the common room, your legs resting on his lap under the table.

- I lost my prefect badge and I’m on patrol tonight. Can you lend me yours, just for tonight?

- Yeah, sure! It’s in my dorm.

You lifted your legs to allow him to get up, and he winked at you as he and Frank headed upstairs

- The room’s a mess, thanks to Sirius, but I remember I put it somewhere around… here… - James started looking on his desk for the bronze badge. Sirius, being the hurricane he was, had thrown a bunch of his things over James’ desk, so it would take some digging. - Sit down, this might take awhile.

James dug through socks, blouses, but secretly thanked Sirius for the mess: that way, it was easier to discreetly push your things into a drawer so Frank wouldn’t see. A brownish glimmer caught James’ eye.

- Ah, found it! - James turned around holding the badge victoriously.

Frank was analyzing a plushie. Not just any plushie: the teddy bear you had given James the week before. ‘It looks just like you, Jamie” you had said, while giggling “It’s cuddly”. It was a brown bear holding a heart. You enchanted it so he would sing a sappy love song every time James squeezed its belly and even sprayed a bit of your perfume on it. James had absolutely loved the gift, just as he did everything else you gave him, so much that he kept it placed safely on his bed, where Frank had seen it. Then, for James’ absolute panic, Frank pressed its belly., and the bear started belting:

And they called it puppy love, just because we're seventeen…

James snatched the bear away from Frank.

- Silencio!

When he looked back at Frank, he raised an amused eyebrow.

- That’s… Sirius gave it to me - Why that was the first thing that came to James’ mind, he had no idea. But he would have to run with it.

- A plushie? - Frank chuckled.

- Yeah, you know the guy. Does anything for a laugh.

- Even enchanting it to sing?

- Er, he… - James searched his mind for something - He goes to great lengths.

- I see, he sprayed perfume on it and all.

- Impressive lengths, really.

James gave Frank his best innocent smile. Truth was, he was tired of doing this, hiding things between you. He had been for weeks now, but he was afraid bringing it up would make you feel pressured. Frank was a really nice guy, and he was madly in love with his girlfriend, Alice, so he would surely be happy for you two, but since James hadn’t had the guts to discuss you two’s arrangement, he would need Frank to believe him, even if it was clear he was finding it all very amusing, and not buying any of it.

- I find this perfume a little familiar… Like I know someone who uses it… Probably Y/N - Frank put his finger on his chin, pretending to think while sniffing the air - But I think I’m mixing things up. Anyway, thanks for the badge, puppy love.

- It says we need to add… - Mary leaned into her textbook to read the instructions while you laborly stirred your laughing potion - billywig sting?

- Only sting? Are you sure? I remember it being billywig sting slime!

- I wrote down only “sting”, but I probably messed up.

- If we add the right one, it’ll be the laughing potion. If we add the wrong one, it’ll end up a floating potion. I just can’t remember which is which!

- Maybe we should take a look at your book. Where is it?

- Yeah, sure. It’s in my bag - You cleaned a few drops of sweat from your forehead.

Mary leaned down to search for it.

- Got it!

She placed the book between you two and started browsing through, looking for the right page for the laughing potion while you attentively observed the suspicious blue tone of your potion.

- “For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Y/N”. Signed, James.

You turned to Mary in sheer terror.

If you had to determine James’ love languages, it would easily be physical touch and words of affirmation. But lately, he had taken a liking to gift giving. Between paper rings, notes, letters, origamis, even silly stick drawings he did of you two, you had quite an extensive collection sitting in a tea box on your bedside table. He couldn’t help it: the silly gifts kept you smiling the whole day through. For James, drawing stick figures or writing little poems was a very small price to pay for your smile, the one thing that lit his whole world up like sunlight. He gave you this specific one, with a customized version of a piece of ‘“Annabel Lee” yesterday, and you had forgotten to add it to your extensive collection after coming by your dorm.

You dropped the spoon you were stirring the potion with. There was no denying this. James was a clown, he always had been, but one thing he never joked around with was other people’s feelings. Everyone knew that. He wouldn’t have written you this if he didn’t mean it.

- Aww, that’s so sweet - Mary smiled at the paper.

- Mary…

- Y/N, hey, relax, alright? - She stopped smiling when she saw your eyes widen. - We all know it.

They all know it?

- Everyone sees the way you look at each other. And the people talk. Particularly, I’ve only heard people saying that you two are adorable, and some other people saying that they envy you or they envy James. It’s fine, I promise.

- But I… we tried…

- I know you tried. But listen: ever since I first met you, whenever you and James are in a room together, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world, and we are all watching. So when you started to sneak around, poorly, may I add, leaving the dorm late at night, going around with his clothes, happier than I’ve ever seen, it wasn’t hard to add things up. Also, you guys suck at keeping things secret.

You two shared a laugh. Your long forgotten laughing/floating potion bubbled in the wrongest shade of green.

- I know. But we really tried our best.

She gave you a soft smile.

- Y/N, when two people are this much in love, there’s no hiding it.

You were laying down at James’ bed. It was a warm, sunny sunday morning that basked the whole dorm room in golden. James was standing by his chest of drawers, shuffling through his clothes to find his uniform for the Quidditch match that would start after breakfast. You watched the muscles on his back, the curves of his shoulder, the nape of his neck, his rebel dark hair. All the freckles on his skin that marked your favorite places to kiss.

- I can feel you looking at me, y’know. And I’m shy. - He turned his face to look at you. The movement gave you a view of his dark eyes, his glasses, the curve of his lips as he grinned, his straight nose.

- It’s not my fault you are beautiful. - You sighed.

- I’m beautiful? - He opened a genuine smile, one that showed his dimples.

- Yes.

In two long strides, he reached the bed. He sat down by your side, and his eyes scanned you lovingly, making you blush under his gaze.

- I’ll only take your word for it only cause you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.- he whispered before kissing the tip of your nose.

You two looked at each other a bit longer. The sunlight that creeped into the room made his eyes look like warm dripping honey. James was never one to be sheepish, but you could tell by the soft tint his cheeks that you looking at him like he hung the stars on the sky made him shy.

- C’mon, sleepy girl, or we’ll be late. And I can’t play without my lucky charm, yeah?

You didn’t move, and neither did him, despite his words. You leaned in, getting closer to him.

- I want to give you something, Jamie.

- Your heart? I’ll take it.

- You already have it. It’s something else. Close your eyes.

He did as told. He was so beautiful that it made you dizzy. His eyes, his mouth, his hands, his skin. Every part of him felt like home. Unable to help yourself, you kissed his lips chastely and he hummed with satisfaction.

- Is that it? - He peeked.

- No. Keep them closed.

You reached for his bedside table where you had placed the ribbon you always wore on your hair the night before. These ribbons were your trademark, and you wore them every single day. You cut up a piece with a scissor you had brought for this purpose.

You softly grabbed James’ warm hand. You placed the satiny strip around his wrist, and with a touch of your wand, turned it into a compact ribbon bracelet.

- Open.

He immediately looked down at his wrist, and his eyes instantly flooded with emotion.

- Wear it for the game, okay? For luck. And after that, too, if you’d like.

- Y/N… these are your ribbons. Everyone knows…

- I want them to know. You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, and the rest of the world should know.

James stayed silent, fiddling with his new bracelet. Panic started creeping into your chest: it hadn’t occurred to you that maybe James wasn’t ready, but it probably should. What if that was too much for him? What if…

- I get it if you’re not ready, by the way, I just… You know - You tried chuckling to lighten up the mood, but it came out humorless.

- What? No! Of course I want that!

- I don’t want you to feel pressured…

James touched your thighs, urging you to look up at him.

- Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk about this with you for a while. I was just thinking that you are so… delicate. I’m much more… flashy.

You frowned your brows in confusion.

- What do you mean?

James opened a mischievous grin.

- It’s your turn to close your eyes.

Blindly, you listened closely to the creaking of the bed as James rose, his steps walking to the drawer, his muffled laugh.

- You ready? Open.

The sight before your eyes made you wish you had a camera to keep this exact moment forever. James was standing there, with open arms, and a white t-shirt that read: I <3 MY GIRLFRIEND.

- This is my way of going public. Ya like it?

You burst out laughing.

- You didn’t!

- You’re shocked now? Wait until you see… this.

When he turned around, you got a look at the back of the t-shirt, where there was a photo of you. Your hands flew to your mouth in blissful shock.

- James!

- So, did ya like it?

James had the biggest, brightest proud smile on his face. You jumped into his arms, still laughing.

- I… loved… it! - You kissed his face repeatedly between words. - I want a matching one, though.

- I’ll arrange it. Do you think McGonagall would let me use this as a game uniform?

- Maybe, since she will be too shocked to even answer.

- I don’t think so, after she caught me with a kiss stain on my face.

- What? When? You didn’t tell me that!

- Oh, trust me, I will. But later, cause right now I have a shirt and a girlfriend to show off.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #the marauders x reader #fluff #the marauders #the marauders era #harry potter imagine

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girlboybug · 3 months

Text

Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

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