#the sudden increase in temperature has taken me out at the fucking knees

[aintgonnatakethis]

twenty questions for fic writers

Tagged by @bagheerita ❤️️

How many works do you have on AO3? 29

What's your total AO3 word count? 208,847

What fandoms do you write for? Stargate Universe mainly, though I've also tried out Stargate Atlantis and James Bond.

Top five fics by kudos: what do pretty monsters dream of? (SGA, Sheppard/Todd) down here they call us animals (SGU, Rush/Young, vamp AU) Valentine's Day (James Bond, asexual Bond) Consultancy Opportunity (SGU, Rush/Telford, PWP) Good Things Come In Threes (SGU, Rush/Young/Telford, P-with-P)

Do you respond to comments? Yes, every one. I know how anxiety-inducing it can be to leave a comment, so I really want to put the effort in to respond. It might take me a few days, as per the anxiety, but there's nothing I love more than discussing my fics!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? so i bite my tongue and hope for blood (warning for non-con) Rush is drugged and does things to Telford. Telford understandably reacts poorly. No working through the trauma here - just trauma.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hmm, looking through my fics I guess I'm not a happy endings kind of guy. 😂 Think the best I can do is Valentine's Day, with Q worrying for a lot of it that Bond is sexually pursuing him only for things to end up firmly in the asexual category with cuddling and talking and petting cats.

Do you get hate on fics? Nah, everyone's pretty chill. Though of course I'm not involved in any large fandoms and that's where the more aggressive people tend to end up.

Do you write smut? Hell yeah I do! When I started posting to A03 near the end of 2022 it was the majority of what I wrote. Recently I've not really been feeling it - ever since I really had to force things so I'd be able to finish the 10k final chapter of the threesome fic - so I've been writing other stuff. I'm sure the smut will reactivate at some point.

Craziest crossover: I've never written any, and I'm afraid I'm not a fan of crossovers at all. 😂

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nah, not to my knowledge. Though I guess with AI scrapers you never know these days.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, though of course I'd give my permission for it.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nothing posted to AO3. Back in the day I RPed Doctor Who smut and stuck it on FFnet, and got a warning slapped on my account for it. 👎

All time favourite ship? Young/Telford/Rush, either all together in a threesome, or paired off in any possible permutation. These three guys are the revolving door of my brain.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I haven't worked on Your Own Worst Enemy for a long while, a fic where Rush, Young, Telford, and Destiny are all recovering from different forms of sexual assault. Though I'm really pleased with what I've got so far, I'm not sure where the plot goes next and I want to handle the subject matter with care. I think it's the kind of fic I have to complete before I start posting.

What are your writing strengths? I really enjoy taking a character and changing their sexuality to all the possible options to explore the possibilities. I've been told I do this while still remaining in character because I do the work to get there instead of just slapping a label on. For example, I've written fics where Telford is straight, bi, gay, aromantic, and am currently working on one where he's asexual. I love seeing what shapes I can bend characters into while still remaining true to canon.

What are your writing weaknesses? I see writeblrs talking about doing big cuts in their editing process, trimming off thousands of words at a time! While I understand why, cutting a scene I've worked hard on is something I can rarely bring myself to do.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I think my knee jerk response would be to say yes, but don't overdo it. Even if the translations are readily available (found this skin which works for both desktop and mobile users and uses HTML instead of making the author fiddle around with editing the workskin for each individual translation) having to move to hover/click can take the reader out of the story if it's done to an extreme degree.

First fandom you wrote in? Doctor Who, in... 2007 I want to say.

Favourite fic you’ve written? down here they call us animals is the first one that springs to mind, as it was such a massive sense of accomplishment to finish a long project, and making my own vampire lore and history was really enjoyable. I have to give a mention to a memory, a distant echo (warning for memories of non-con) as well though. I feel like I crafted that with my bare hands from clay, you know? Telford's trauma... I could wax fucking poetic about it for days.

No pressure tagging: @fortunatetragedy @frostysfrenzy @wolgerrswraith @frostedlemonwriter @galadhir + open to anyone who wants a go!

#god i'm sorry this one took me long so to do! #the sudden increase in temperature has taken me out at the fucking knees #i'm a pasty ass white boy on adhd meds #i'm not built for anything above 10C 😭 #tag game #about me #writeblr #mine #bagheerita

[mourntheantagonist]

How Long Can You Hold Your Breath?

HWOL Day 1 Prompt: Pool Sex

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on AO3

It didn’t matter what position they were in, it was always there in his view. Turning his head to the right when he was underneath, to the left when he was on top, it was right fucking there. Ten feet back and fifteen feet below held a deep hole in the ground filled to the brim with chlorinated water.

A smell that made him sick to his stomach each time he walked by. Not because of the toxic fumes but because of the bad memories attached to it. The picture taken off of Jonathan’s camera of Barb sitting on the diving board that remains, while she does not, is permanently etched into his mind. Her last moments spent not only alive but in the dimension that they call their own. Lost to the upside down with her true legacy buried deep in the government’s top secret files and all that’s left of her name is a fabricated lie to ease the simple minded and allow them to continue to live in a town that has monsters that kidnap and possess children for no reason other than sport.

No matter how many times he drained and refilled that fucking pool, it never felt the same again.

Guilt and fear combining together to make the pool essentially useless. He could hardly dip his toe in the water without fear that something would emerge from the drain and pull him down into the water. Lost to the world the same way Barb had been.

Sometimes he’d sit on the edge of the same damn diving board to feel what it was like for her. Let himself fall into the water fully clothed, closing his eyes and letting the liquid consume him until the panic set in and he was pulled back to reality. Swimming to the surface, crawling out onto the deck, and just lying there underneath the heat of the sun while his clothes dried and he caught his breath.

He knew the words in his head weren’t true. Knew the words Nancy drunkenly spat out weren’t true. At least the ones where she said “we killed Barb.”

He didn’t kill Barb.

But he didn’t do anything much to stop it either, did he?

So he let the thought linger in his head.

Maybe he deserved the same fate as Barb.

So he avoided the pool like the plague, fearing that one day he may not come back to the surface.

But it didn’t matter what he was doing, the thought was always there. The fear was always there. Didn’t matter if he was balls deep in Billy fucking Hargrove, his head would never fail to make that ninety degree turn and Billy would have to grab his attention by moaning his name or one time just yelling it because Steve would turn away and his movements would become mechanical and fifty percent of the time it would just ruin the moment for the both of them.

Billy knew what it was about, Steve had told him the stories, at least the ones that were already public knowledge. He knew enough to know that it was the pool that was the root cause for the dissociation.

And they tried closing the curtains. Something they likely should have been doing in the first place as it wouldn’t be the first time someone was lurking through the woods with a camera and a strange desire to photograph people through their windows. But even with the drapes drawn, he could still hear it. Hear the water moving slightly, and the drains flowing. In fact, there wasn’t a single part of his entire damn house that you couldn’t hear the ambiance of the pool water.

So that left them two options. Fucking in the cramped Camaro or Beemer parked out at the quarry in the dead of night where monsters were known to lurk, or continue with this charade where they both pretended like it was working.

But Billy was, rightfully so, getting tired of snapping his fingers in Steve’s face to get him to come back to the present.

Steve always said it was because of the memories.

“I have nothing but bad memories about it.”

So eventually, out of a need to help Steve into a life of just a little bit of normalcy, and perhaps a tinge of horniness, he approached him with an idea on his mind.

“What if we made some good memories.”

Steve is surprised he let himself agree. Surprised he let Billy take his hand and lead him out into the back.

It was dusk and the sun was just beginning to set. The sky was littered with pinks and oranges and somehow that calmed his nerves ever so slightly. It was still warm out too. A comfortable seventy five degrees. Everything was perfect except for the one obvious thing that wasn’t.

He was already staring at it.

But Billy quickly pulled his attention away by fishing his hand beneath the waistband of both his jeans and briefs. Cupping a hand around his soft dick nearly immediately feeling it start to chub up at the touch of Billy’s soft palms.

Billy slowly pulls both the jeans and briefs down in one mother. Crouching as he lowers them over his knees until they drop to the ground. Standing back up and holding Steve by his cheeks and kissing him all soft and slow, trying his best to just keep Steve here in the present. Separating only as the hem of Steve’s shirt is lifted to where it meets their chins. Pulling it over Steve’s head leaving him standing there completely naked, slightly shivering as the sudden change in temperature while Billy remains fully clothed.

Undressing Billy? Now that’s something that can keep Steve’s focus.

He’s less slow with Billy than he was with him. Pulling his button up over his head rather than sparing the time to undo the only two he ever fastened. Pulls his jeans down the same way Billy did him, but instead staying crouched on the ground, moving a mouth to Billy’s inner thigh where he gently bit the tender skin.

“Stop.” Billy said, moving a hand to the back of Steve’s neck, gently tugging his hair upwards telling him to stand back up.

“What?” He asked.

“In the pool.”

“Billy I can’t.” He’s looking away again.

Billy pulls him close to him by the grab of his forearms so that they’re chest to chest. Breath hot against his lips.

“Tell me what part scares you.”

Billy kisses the space behind Steve’s ear as he waits for an answer. Urging the response out of him with the movement of his lips against sensitive skin.

“I’m afraid I’ll be pulled under. That I won’t come back up. I don’t want my head going under.”

Billy nibbles on Steve’s earlobe. Pulls until it escapes between his teeth. Steve shudders.

“Then we’ll just keep your head above water. Just let me treat you like royalty King Steve.”

“Would you stop it with that?”

“Never.”

To that Billy just let himself fall backwards into the pool. Splashing water up in the air, some of the droplets finding their way onto Steve’s body like a sprinkle or mist. Billy’s head went under and the way he resurfaced was like a goddamn mermaid. His neck craned backwards so all his hair would flow behind him. Drenched curls still visible despite being soaked. Hair darkened by the wetness but still the effects of the sunset’s shine reflected the golden blonde Steve was so used to seeing dry.

Somehow he found himself looking directly at the pool, but completely entranced by something else. His naked boyfriend as he floated along the surface of the water with the front half of his body completely exposed in a show off fashion.

“You gonna get in?” Billy asked, swimming up to the part of the deck where Steve was still standing in his own nude presence, crossing his arms over his chest like that did anything to protect him. Billy rested his shoulders on the side of the pool wall and looked up at him with his gorgeous eyes. Lashes wet with droplets that the light in the sky reflected so perfectly. Like expensive jewels on his eyes. A playfully pleading look, one that Steve always found difficulty in refusing.

Steve hesitantly climbed down into the water in the four foot end by the ladder. Slowly but surely increasing in depth as his feet hit first, causing him to shiver for more reasons than one. Billy’s hands found their way to resting on his back, not so much to catch him if he were to fall backwards, but to remind him he was right there.

By the time his foot finally reached the pool floor, the waterline sat halfway up his torso. The water was cold, but not too cold. Something given a couple of minutes he would easily get used to. He pressed his back to the side of the pool wall, feeling the warmth of the water heater pressing up against the back of his leg warming him up and sending another shiver up and down his spine.

“You good?” Billy asks, his chest now brought all the way to Steve’s. The combined warmth of his body and the heater alongside the coldness of the pool water is an odd but pleasant sensation.

Steve nods his head and brings his arms around Billy to cup his ass. Staring intently at Billy and almost forgetting where he is.

Almost.

He guesses this is exposure therapy. Associate good feelings with the bad ones. It was worth a shot.

“So what does King Steve want to do?”

He gets a weird feeling in his stomach when the question falls. The idea rattling in his head like a maraca since Billy splashed into the pool.

“How long can you hold your breath?”

Billy gets a way too wide smile on his face and instantly moves in to put his mouth on Steve’s. Hand finding its way to the nape of his neck angling him downward in a desperate interlocking of lips. Separating after a few short moments and kissing the corner of his mouth, the line of his jaw, the crook of his neck. Pausing there to apply suction that has Steve’s head tossing backwards and his hand gripping the edge of the pool.

Billy releases himself from the space above Steve collar bone and follows it up by tracing a wet tongue halfway down the length of his chest before pausing, taking a deep breath, and going down further until his head is fully submerged. His hair flowing up behind him and even with the distortion of the water Steve can see Billy perfectly clear.

Billy bites at the skin of Steve’s hip bone causing Steve to slightly jerk and his now completely hard dick twitch from the sensation.

Steve expects Billy to resurface, to take another deep breath before going in, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth without an extra breath, running still off of the single one he took and had already been holding for at least twenty seconds. A cascade of bubbles from his nose find their way to the surface.

Steve convulses around the warmth of Billy's mouth paired with the lower temperatures that surround him. A quick change from cold to hot sent him reeling. Head tossed back once more as Billy begins swirling his tongue around the tip of his dick, likely tasting the effects of pre on his tongue coupled with the taste of chlorine. He’s down under the water for long enough that Steve’s already gripping the edges of the pool with so much strength he may have permanent indentations in the palm of his hands.

So he grabs something softer. Fishes a hand downward and latches onto a clump of Billy’s wet curls. Fisting them close to the scalp.

Billy finally comes up for a breath once Steve has already begun to feel a release around the corner. Billy’s hand slowly jerking him while he resurfaces and takes another deep breath. Steve forces him into another kiss before he lets him go back under.

This time Billy’s going deeper. Much much deeper and Steve has to kick the urge to buck his hips and instantly come down his throat. Instead pulling tighter at his hair. Not in an away motion that would have Billy stop, but in a tightening of the fist that told Billy to keep doing what you’re fucking doing because he wouldn’t hear him otherwise.

Billy has one hand roughly pressing a thumb into Steve’s pelvic bone while his other finds his own cock as he begins to stroke himself. Moaning underwater around Steve’s cock that pushes Steve to the brink. To the edge.

He tugs on Billy's hair to let him know he’s there. That he’s close and he surges down the length of Steve’s cock until Steve can feel he’s hitting the back of his throat. Steve’s hips buck forward and in one single motion he is coming directly down. Hand gripping Billy’s hair tighter and tighter throughout the orgasm until he eventually lets go and his legs nearly give out on him. Steve’s hands go back to supporting himself on the wall where he attempts to catch his breath, and Billy only follows up with him shortly after. Also out of breath but likely for a different reason.

Billy is still quietly jerking himself when he resurfaces and let his chest fall into Steve’s. Chin resting on his shoulder and dick finding it’s way inbetween Steve’s legs.

He wraps his own hand around Billy and finishes for him. Billy’s fingernails dig into Steve’s shoulders and it doesn’t take much longer before Billy is having an orgasm of his own beneath the water. A stream of come finding the way from the tip of his dick, slowly floating up to the water’s surface. Billy’s chest is heaving against Steve’s while he holds on tight. Letting his feet come out from under him and allowing Steve to be his only support.

“How the fuck did you hold your breath that long?” Steve asks, still breathing heavily.

“I’m a surfer. Also, it wasn’t that long.”

Steve just pushes him back and has him going back under the water. Billy resurfacing with a laugh and another kiss to Steve’s lips.

A good memory finally associated with the damn pool outside. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

#harringrove week of love #harringroveweekoflove #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #loveweekifao #tw trauma #fanfic #mandi writes tresh

[copias-thrall]

I had an idea How would a demon!Papa III be in heat with his mate that is a rather shy female s/o (the s/o being human in this case)

It is not something unknown to the two of you. Papa III is a demon, and demons have heat cycles. Being an older man, Papa III’s cycles are a bit more regular …but for demon he’s still considered young, so his ruts still pack a pretty potent punch. Before giving in to his feelings for you, how you would receive him during his cycle almost had him giving up—an unmated demon going through a heat with a partner is uncomfortable; one going through a cycle without a mate is painful. How could he ask that of you, knowing your disposition? Knowing if you refused to sate him, he’d have to take a temporary lover?

Luckily you pushed him to confide his concerns in you, and the two of you have had many subsequent conversations about expectations, consent, and safety.

*heat sex; hard biting; knotting*

“I will be very, ah—insistent, little one. Aggressive. Like a beast.”

“But not a mindless beast.”

“Sí. Not mindless—merely … distracted.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“Perhaps a little, mia cara. Some biting, a few scratches. But not in the way you mean, I am thinking.”

“And if you can’t take it, amore?”

“I can.”

“If you can’t.”

“Will I be in danger if I try to leave?”

“I may beg and plead, but I won’t bar you. But I would need a proxy, cara. The damage to myself I would do …”

“So I will take it, now hush.”

The thing about Papa III’s heat is that it’s not an exact science (when Papa III tried to explain to you it’s a ballpark of days and not a guarantee, you had to level him with a look—“I know, my love. I get a period every month.”). So while you both know the week, the day and the hour are still unknown factors.

Papa III’s mini fridge is stocked up with coconut water, and he has a whole crate full of protein and granola bars. The kitchen staff is on call for any other needs (like the meat freezer full of choice-cut steak). You have gotten permission for heat leave from your Abbey duties.

It’s midmorning when one of Papa III’s Ghouls comes to fetch you. It’s not a surprise, but it is two days earlier than the date circled on the calendar. You don’t bother changing or performing your morning toilet—you nod in understanding to the Ghoul, and you grab your prepped duffel bag.

When you enter Papa’s quarters, it’s the smell that hits you first: it’s not an unpleasant smell, but it’s strong—a musky, salty aroma that still manages to smell like Papa’s own spicy-flower scent. The Ghoul ushers you to Papa III’s bedchamber; when he opens the door, the smell hits you like a slap to the face full force, and you stagger back as if physically hit.

Papa explained that you might be affected by his scent; while humans don’t experience heat and scent the way demons do, he warned that you might experience it as the feeling you get when getting a whiff of him from a shirt—but on steroids. It’s a very pleasant loverboyfriend-type smell, and without your permission, your mouth fills with saliva.

You’re taken out of your haze a bit when you see Papa III curled in the fetal position, panting, around a pillow. He’s naked—sheets in a tangle around his ankles—and his skin is slick with sweat; his face has no trace of paint on it. You cry out at his distress, and make to go for him—when you’re stopped by a warning growl.

Distracted by Papa’s smell and appearance, you hadn’t noticed that the Ghoul with you had been affected too. Its fangs are bared and glistening, its eyes are glowing yellow beneath its mask, and its tail is stuttering back and forth. You freeze, trying to remember the orientation video on feral Ghouls. It growls again low in its throat before hissing at you and arching its back in an obvious challenge. While the orientation video warned never to get between a Ghoul in heat and its mate, it DID NOT cover what to do when the mate was yours. 

The Ghoul snaps its jaws at you and flashes its claws. You know you’re not supposed to even think about fear, but you’re on a hair trigger—you can’t run, you can’t leave Papa, and you can’t fight this Ghoul. Your eyes cast about the bedchambers for anything that could be a weapon (surely he would understand if you used that frankly intimidating-looking huge dildo as a bludgeon, right?), but you and the Ghoul are both suddenly caught off guard by a clap and a low, throaty growl.

The both of you snap your heads toward Papa III, who is on his knees—chest heaving and glistening—fists clenched and eyes glowing red.

“Ghoul,” rumbles Papa in a voice that seems to come from within him and everywhere else all at once. The Ghouls whines. “Ghoul, you are not welcome. Leave us.” The Ghouls eyes you again and seems to vibrate. “ Now !” bellows Papa, and—while it does let out a sad keen—the Ghoul hastily retreats out of Papa III’s bedchambers and his suite.

Papa crumples as soon as he hears the door slam, and you go to run toward him, but he manages to gasp out, “The door, mia amore! Lock the door, per favore!”

You hesitate only for a moment before dropping your duffle and alighting to the door of his quarters. You turn the lock, then you sprint back to his bedchamber, making sure to latch that door behind you as well.

Papa III is once again curled in on himself and trembling. You’re quick to scramble into the bed—his nudity is a lesser concern to you than his obvious wretchedness. You take his head in your hands and guide it to your neck—something he advised you would comfort him. His nose snuffles around until it finds the right spot and then presses into you. He takes a couple of deep inhales before his arms come around you and pull you into him, squashing the pillow that is trapped in between you two.

“I am sorry, amore. Mi dispiace. It came on so fast.”

You stroke his head. “Shh. It’s ok, love. What do you need?”

When the two of you had talked, Papa III had outlined how his rut usually went down: a sudden onset of fatigue followed by a mild fever; an increase in body temperature coupled with the inklings of arousal—all of these irritating, but manageable symptoms. These harbingers were supposed to alert Papa of the more intense waves to come—the spark of arousal turning into a burning itch needing to be scratched; the spike in body temperature; the cramping. But if Papa III’s current state is any indicator, he’s sailed through all his pre-heat symptoms and is now firmly in Stage 2.

Papa whines and you can feel him restrain himself from rutting into you.

“Please, cara … please. I need—”

Despite all the talks Papa III and you had and all the pep talks you gave yourself in the mirror, you’re suddenly hit with a spike of anxiety. The moment is here. Papa is going to fuck the shit out of you now. He must sense your trepidation—or maybe the sudden tenseness in your body—because he squirms away from you and literally puts you at arm’s length. Even as he’s rutting into the bed he’s apologizing to you.

“Forgive me, amore.”

Your heart breaks a little, and you’re quick to pull him back into you. You knew this was coming, and all you want is to ease your Papa through his ordeal.

“It’s ok, Papa. What do you need?” you ask again.

He presses plaintive kisses to your collarbone.

“Just you, mia amore. Just you.”

“Well. You have me.”

While you obviously intended to follow through on your assertion, you weren’t quite expecting Papa to give a snarl and roll on top of you immediately. He takes to your nightdress with his hands and teeth, tearing it down the middle to expose your nudity beneath. You give a surprised yelp, but Papa doesn’t even pause in his ministrations as he bites at your collarbone and squirms in between your legs. His knees spread your thighs apart, and when his hard cock encounters your panties, he just reaches down and rips them away as well.

Now, your Papa is always a conscientious and considerate lover. He’s all light touches and slow care with you. He always sees to you first, and he doesn’t adhere to any 1:1 ratio in terms of orgasms—which always seems to end in your favor. But tonight he is actually a man possessed. As soon as your panties are dealt with, his cock is poking at you as he whimpers in frustration. You do your best to reach down to guide him into you while he clutches your flesh; eventually he manages to press into you all on his own, stiffening and letting out an honest-to-god howl as his cock sinks further into the tight embrace of your cunt.

His mouth latches onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and he sucks at the tender skin there as he begins to pound frenetically into you. Even though Papa III warned you that he’d be taking his pleasure from you, the reality of it is a little overwhelmed. 

And yet.

Also a little arousing.

Papa pins you into the bed with the weight of his body and his vehement thrusts—there’s little you can do but go along for the ride—but it’s still him. It’s still his currently intoxicating smell and the sounds he makes in ecstasy; it’s still the planes of his body mashing against you and the hardness of his cock inside you.

The fire of arousal heats you, even if it’s not enough at the moment to sate you. You let Papa rut into you and mewl against your skin. The two of you have been working on your comfort in vocality—but tonight there’s no problem. Your breathy grunts and high moans only serve to egg him on as he uses the velvet slick of your cunt to ease the burning of need compelling him on. The stiffness of his cock plunges into you again and again and again—and you can feel as your slick leaks out around him and down his balls.

And oh.

Oh God.

OH SWEET LUCIFER ON A GODFORSAKEN BICYCLE.

The two of you had talked about the possibility of his knot making an appearance—something that happened to him only ever in a rut, and even then being half-human made it a rarity—but you’re still wholly unprepared when the sudden protrusion tugs at your entrance. It’s … extremely stimulating, and you moan out—which only causes Papa III to speed up impossibly. You begin to wail and clutch at the sheets as his knot gets bigger, tugging and pressing at you. Some small part of you is anxious about the way you sound and how you’re acting—but the rest of you is screaming at Papa III to Shove it the fuck in already.

The mounting pressure suddenly pops into your cunt, and you can feel it expand. You scream out—not a breathy scream of ecstasy—but an actual throaty scream at the intensity of it all as you climax hard. His knot fills you in a way you didn’t know existed and how it presses into all the right spots has you cumming 2 more times with demi-orgasms before your head clears enough to realize Papa has broken the skin of your shoulder as you’ve milked him, and he’s now contentedly lapping at the blood seeping out of the bite.

It’ll probably hurt like a bitch later, but right now Papa III has started rolling his hips and is grinding his knot into you. Bursts of pleasure spark behind your eyes, and you suddenly notice you’re rolling your hips too.

“Ah, ah, amore—so tight!”

You wrap your arms and legs around him, and the two of you grind at each other. The sweet pressure of his knot is inescapable—no matter which way you go, there’s stimulation, and soon you’re arching and clamping hard around him again. You hadn’t even noticed it was deflating until you feel his knot expand again, and he howls—trying to jerk into you but unable to fully thrust as he climaxes again.

“Santanas,” he gasps as he falls back down on to you. “Cease moving, little one. Unless you wish to be caught all night.”

“Ok, Papa.”

You’re definitely feeling sleepy, and you let yourself drift off as Papa applies soft kisses and gentle nips to your collarbone. When you wake, it’s because Papa is rolling off you—cock now soft. You feel the trickle of his cum leak out down your thighs as he folds a cover over you, and you wonder how uncouth it would be to use his sheets to wipe it off. Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear Papa whine as his hand hovers over your shoulder.

“I hurt you.”

“You warned me.”

He tsks and attempts to leave the bed, but he’s still in the throes of his rut, so all he accomplishes is teetering on wobbly legs and swooning back onto the bed.

“Papa!” You scootch over to him to gather him up. He trembles a little, and you’re not sure if it’s from his effort or the sweat cooling on him. 

“I’m getting you supplies.”

Your hand finds your nightgown—and then you remember it’s useless; you think about winding the sheet around you—but Papa’s currently laying on the other end, and you don’t want to upend him. Finally you see his favorite slinky robe, and you decide he won’t mind if you commandeer it for the time being.

Once you’re decent, you retrieve a carton of coconut water and a protein bar. You do notice that your shoulder is beginning to throb and sting. When you look up, you see that Papa III is watching you with glazed eyes.

“My phone, per favore, amore.”

You shift the other two items and grab the ancient rotary. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but you manage to get back onto the bed and over to Papa with all your treasures. You place the phone in between the two of you, and you let him dial as you crack open the water and peel the wrapper from the bar. As he murmurs into the receiver, you hand him bite-sized pieces of the protein bar and the carton to drink from. What you can tell from his end is that a nurse is being sent up to bandage your shoulder, but that she can’t tarry because apparently Papa triggered his Ghoul’s rut, who then went back to the Ghoul dorms and triggered a while outbreak of heat cycles, thus overwhelming the infirmary.

When he hangs up, he curls back around you, his cock already plumping to hardness once more. He ruts into your leg, and getting him to eat the last bit of bar and the rest of the coconut water is an exercise in futility, so you put them aside. Papa III squirms on top of you, his hard cock poking at you once again.

“Papa!” you gasp. “Papa, the nurse! I’ll have to let her in …”

“She has keys,” he says into your skin.

“But—” 

His dick drives home, and you gasp again.

“Need you, cara,” he keens as he begins to thrust into you again.

It goes much like the first time—Papa plunging hard and fast into you until his knot swells, locking the two of you together and setting off a feedback loop of pleasure as his swollen flesh presses into you and as you clench around him until a ceasefire is called. He bites a pillow instead of you this time, but his fingers have left crescents in the skin of your ams.

A sharp rap at the door of his bedchamber startles the both of you.

“Are you quite done, your Dark Excellency?” comes a muffled voice.

“Sí,” calls out Papa hoarsely.

“Papa!” you squeak. “I-I’m …”

He groans.

“Un momento,” he yells louder. Though you can tell it takes some effort, Papa rolls the two of you over so that you’re on top. He artlessly begins to pile the covers in a nest around you, and you take the hint to recinch the robe.

“Come!” he shouts.

There’s the sound of the key turning in the latch before an infirmary nurse, in her starched white habit, bustles into the room with a medical bag. You cast your eyes down as your face grows hot. 

“Sister Aggie,” says Papa III.

In a dry, deadpan tone, Sister Aggie says, “What did you do this time?”

Papa pets your thighs under the covers. You try not to clench down on his knot.

“Show her your shoulder, amore.”

You look up at her from under your lashes and you hesitantly peel the robe back from your shoulder, while still trying to keep yourself covered. She makes a tetch noise, but otherwise remains clinical in her approach to the bite. Whatever she swabs on it stings, and you hiss, flinching. It’s enough to make Papa moan and twitch, but Sister Aggie gives him such a sharp look that he just pants and clutches at the sheets. She’s just about done applying a sticky gauze over the bite when she sees the nail marks, and she pulls the robe down further for access despite your squeak of alarm at almost being exposed.

She fixes a stern gaze on Papa III.

“Your new mate isn’t a Ghoul, Dark Excellency. If you can’t be more careful, I would medically have to suggest you do use a Ghoul proxy—Lucifer knows there are enough of them on their own cycle right now because of you.”

Papa is shaking a bit, but he manages to assure Sister Aggie that he will be gentler with you.

“I’ll be back to check on you every several hours. I’m not sure why you didn’t already put a request in for wellness checks, Dark Excellency. 

“Private,” he pants out—and you know he means your privacy.

“Not anymore.” She catches your eyes. “Has he eaten?”

“U-Uh … I-I—some coconut water and most of a protein bar. He—ah!”

You grunt as Papa starts to grind up into you, moaning. Sister Aggie keeps talking to you as if Papa isn’t about to cum in you again and isn’t babbling at you in Italian.

“He’s going to need a lot more sustenance after this round. I heard from Ghoul 0 that he was up most of the night before you joined him. I’ll let the kitchen know, but you have to make sure he eats.”

You’re trying to pay attention, but Papa’s knot is pressing into you again as he rolls his hips, ratcheting up the throbbing in your cunt. You must’ve zoned out, because Sister Aggie is snapping her fingers in front of you.

“Sister—do you understand?”

Your cheeks burn, but you manage to nod at her. “M-make sure he eats. Got it.“

“I’m holding you to that, Sister.” 

She clicks her medical bag shut.

Papa moans and starts to twitch into you.

Despite your best efforts, the sudden, multiple pressures into you propels you over the edge.

“Oh god,” you punch out, and you curl over as you orgasm, your eyes closing shut as your clit pulsates and you clench hard around Papa III’s knot. You feel it inflate fully again as Papa snarls then catapults up—smacking your mouth hard as he captures your lips, grunting into your mouth as he cums again.

“Spiacente, little one,” he gasps afterwards. “Spiacente.”

As you pet at him, you turn to apologize to Sister Aggie, but she’s already gone.

When Papa pulls free this time the mess is … a lot more to deal with. Papa basically passes out, and—on shaky legs—you make use of his showerhead to clean up. You bring out a warm washcloth to clean him up as best you can, blushing as you hesitantly wipe between his legs (you were afraid that would wake him up and set him off again, but he dozes through all of it). 

As promised, the food from the kitchen is delivered (by another Sibling—they’re apparently keeping the Ghouls away from Papa III until the heat cycles dissipate), and you bring it into the bedroom. At the smell, Papa stirs and cracks open an eye.

The meal is steak—bloody for him—rotini, and buttered beets. You wolf down all of your food and down the rest of the open coconut water. Papa eats the steak and must be babied into eating half of the other portions, plus a fresh carton of water.

He’s giving you That Look again, but you’re not quite up to being knotted again, so you give him an enthusiastic hand job, making sure to squeeze and massage his knot. When he climaxes, his cum shoots out in force and lands hot and sticky on you with every squeeze of his knot that you give. By the time he seems finished, the amount of his cum that you’re covered in is almost comical. Papa presses into you, smearing it around both your bodies as he growls at you.

“Such a waste. Every drop should be in you. It should be filling you up so that you grow fat with my child.”

Even though Papa warned you he’d probably feel compelled to talk of breeding you, you’re still a little embarrassed at his words. You’re not expecting him to scoop some up with his fingers and try to finger it back into your hole. You attempt to squirm away, but at first he’s very insistent on getting it all into your cunt; you have to draw on your reserves to sharply tell him No before he stops—and even then he whimpers at you before dozing off again.

You wish the showerhead was long enough to reach into his bedroom.

It’s a very long few days. Despite Papa’s promise, he still manages to mark you up with scratches and bruises that make Sister Aggie cluck her tongue—though none bad enough for her to make good on her threat. You do your best to let him have you, but your human physical limitations are such that you just can’t handle multiple knotting in such quick succession—as amazing as they ended up being. Occasionally Papa will use your mouth, but he’s actually too afraid he might accidentally choke you with his knot that he’s more willing to let you jack him—even if that proves to be an inferior method of release.

He does have toys—the pocket vagina and tenga eggs getting the most use, and then that dildo you’d been prepared to use as a weapon (you’d been reticent to use it on him at first, but after watching him fuck himself on it, you quickly became eager to control it). He tried to convince you to use the strap-on on him, but you’re just not there yet.

Day 2 was the peak, and the hardest day—he’d been a begging mess and you’d felt you’d spent most of the day caught on his cock. On day 3 you’d noticed him slowing down, and by day 5 his knot had stopped swelling. You’d helped Papa III with his bedding and soiled towels, and the two of you had taken a very long bath full of epson salts and rosewater.

Day 6 is completely indulgent—Papa’s rut very obviously over—but he insists that recovery is absolutely a part of the heat cycle. As you lie on his chest encircled in his arms, you certainly aren’t going to contradict him.

He sighs and kisses the top of your head.

“You are still here, mia cara.”

You place a kiss on his pectoral. 

“I’m still here,” you agree.

#asks #papa emeritus iii #demon!papa

[satonthelotuspier]

Turnabout is Fair Play - Part 4

Here’s the fourth and final part of TIFP as promised. You can catch Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 at these links if you missed them, alternatively it’s all available on AO3 here 

Several days later Jiang Cheng went in search of Lan Xichen to report the good news his Sect Physician had just given him.

He found the other Sect Leader dealing with his duties whilst in charge of the children.

Lan Xichen sat behind his desk in the Hanshi answering correspondence. Wei Wuxian sat on his knee and concentrated carefully on the paper in front of him where he drew...something. Jiang Cheng would admit he’d never been very good at deciphering children’s art.

Lan Wangji sat at the side, carefully covering his own paper in chunky, childish script.

The two children seemed to exist in their own little bubble where the happenings around them meant nothing and the only thing that really mattered was the other.

Beyond that the situation they’d found themselves in over the past days had all taken on a sickeningly domestic tone. And curse him but it never seemed to phase Lan Xichen, everything was executed with that same calm elegance of body and temperament.

“Jiang Wanyin” Lan Xichen greeted him as he noticed Jiang Cheng in the doorway. “Please come in”

He had suggested that they drop the overly formal way of addressing each other as they spent a significant amount of time in company together.

“I’ve just spoken with my sect physician who believes he has something that will speed up the leeching of the poison” Jiang Cheng informed his Lan equivalent who had poured him tea.

“Is he sure it’s safe to use?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea if there was a chance it wasn’t. All we have to do is wait it out if we do nothing else, so it wouldn’t be worth using anything less than a sure thing”

“Of course, forgive me, I misspoke” Lan Xichen lowered his head in apology and Jiang Cheng felt like an ass for making an issue of it; he always spoke before he thought though.

Wei Wuxian looked up at Lan Xichen, “More yucky drinks?” he asked the Lan Sect head.

“I’m afraid so, A-Xian” he stroked a hand over the child’s hair soothingly, “But it will help you get big and strong”

“Mn” Wei Wuxian agreed.

***

The following day Lan Xichen, his uncle Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin and the Jiang sect physician stood talking in the ornamental gardens outside the library pavilion where it was reported that there was a significant reduction in the levels of snake-demon poison present in both boys that morning, much to the relief of all present.

The reason for relief was merely driven home by the sudden increase in noise in the vicinity.

He saw his Uncle freeze and his face go blank. He was obviously just going to pretend that what was about to happen didn’t happen, and ignore it until it passed.

The noise grew louder and louder. Lan Wangji pelted into the garden and along the Library pavilion veranda, shouting at the top of his lungs, dragging a Wei Wuxian who kept yelling “Lan Zhan” in a reproving tone of voice along by the hand.

They were followed by Lan Jingyi who chased after them shouting, “Running isn’t allowed in the Cloud Recesses. Making noise isn’t allowed either” at the top of his voice.

Despite his uncle’s commitment to not noticing anything Lan Xichen could see the twitch of a muscle in his cheek.

Genuinely he himself didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry.

Jiang Wanyin had covered his face with his palm.

The sound faded.

And his uncle began to speak again as if nothing had happened.

***

They were quite close to fully cleansing the snake-demon toxins out of their brothers’ systems by the end of the second week at Cloud Recesses, and Jiang Wanyin was making preparations to leave for Yunmeng as soon as it was resolved. He spoke his plans to Lan Xichen as they walked the paths through the Recesses and close to the woods near the cold spring.

Lan Xichen was aware enough to realise he was going to miss having Jiang Wanyin’s sometimes ill-tempered but always entertaining self around. Their time together had become somewhat of a pleasant routine for him.

Perhaps for both of them?

His musings were cut short at the sudden, scared shout of “Lan Zhan” from the cold spring.

They were both running towards the sound of sobbing as fast as possible, to find a terrified Wei Wuxian trying to pull a limp Lan Wangji out of the water.

Jiang Cheng leaped straight in to scoop the unconscious child up, cradling him in his arms and turning his face so he could check for breathing.

Lan Xichen held his breath, his own heart frozen in fear as he waited for Jiang Cheng to examine his brother.

Wei Wuxian was nearly hysterical, repeating that he had slipped and hit his head on rocks, and Lan Xichen knelt down to try to calm him once Wanyin assured him Wangji was breathing.

Luckily Yunmeng-raised Wei Wuxian had pulled his face out of the water almost immediately, and it was just the vicious bump to the head that was a danger

They took the children back to Jiang Cheng’s rooms and sent a junior disciple to find a physician to check on Lan Wangji’s head injury.

He’d taken a nasty knock. He did regain consciousness during the examination but he was groggy and confused, though well behaved when he saw his Wei Ying was sat besides him on the bed, holding his hand.

“You scared me, Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian’s tone was reproachful and Lan Zhan looked as contrite as possible with the cut forehead which was also beginning to bruise.

“Wei Ying, I’m sorry” he managed then lay quietly while Lan Xichen cleaned the cut and the physician prepared a salve for it.

“You’ll need to keep a watch on him through the night. Send someone for me if he becomes listless, unresponsive or feverish”

Lan Xichen stayed the night, his brother should be his responsibility in this situation. Jiang Wanyin offered him the second bed but he refused, telling Jiang Wanyin he should use it and get some sleep, there was no point in them both being awake.

He dozed periodically propped against the side of the bed, but always waking and reapplying the salve, checking his brother’s temperature, waking him up to test his alertness. And while he was grumpy he was neither listless nor unresponsive.

Lan Xichen drifted off again just before dawn, but he was woken by a surprised exclamation at about five o'clock.

“Brother?” Wangji asked him in confusion, voice back to it’s normal, much deeper timbre.

It took Lan Xichen a few seconds to process what had happened, but as he realised the poison had worn off and his brother and brother-in-law were back to their original states he rose to his feet.

He heard Jiang Wanyin stir across the room at the sound, then wake up and take in what had happened with a “What the fuck-” and then dash out of the house.

Lan Xichen stayed back long enough to check whether either Wangji or Wei Wuxian remembered anything about the last few weeks, (they didn’t), check his brother’s health, (his head was painful and foggy, but he was otherwise fine), then followed Jiang Wanyin outside.

***

Jiang Cheng sat on the steps at the edge of the veranda, still not over his shock and the awkwardness of waking up to two fully grown males in his room. Well three, but one he had expected.

“I don’t need my eyes anymore, your stupid semi-naked brother is seared onto my brain” he complained, “Actually, so is mine” he scrubbed his face as Lan Xichen came to sit beside him. “You should tell them to get the fuck out of my room, I need to dress” he groused, pulling his inner robe tighter around himself as he suddenly realised he wasn’t fully attired.

He flopped onto his back on the veranda in despair, and then the maniacal cackling started from inside the room as Wei Wuxian laughed whole-heartedly about something.

“At least order has been restored” Lan Xichen commented as he heard something low and monosyllabic from his brother in response to Wei Wuxian. To Jiang Cheng’s surprise he laid back beside him on the veranda, looking up into the pale streaked dawn sky.

“It’s been an...interesting few days” Lan Xichen commented and Jiang Cheng turned his head to glance at him, before looking back up at the sky.

“It’s been a nightmare” he corrected. But there was a small part of him that would miss that morning cuddle with his brother, sweet and uncomplicated and just affection he’d not had for too long.

But he couldn’t admit that.

“Lets never have children” he said instead, not quite realising what connotations his words could have until the other turned to look at him, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Why Sect Leader Jiang, is that a proposal?”

My favourite scene is Lan Qiren achieving a pure Zen state.

#shay's stuff #turnabout is fair play #xicheng #lan xichen #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian

[mamabearcat]

Get Through This Day

I decided to write this story after my NaLu pregnancy one-shot received so many positive reviews on Tumblr, AO3 and here, and wanted to try writing one for Inu and Kagome too. Just a warning, before you begin. This story contains a few mentions of previous miscarriage. If this is upsetting for you, please don't read. As someone who has been through that myself, I would hate to think that anything I wrote would be triggering for someone.

I hope you enjoy it!

Kagome pushed herself back up into a kneeling position, stretching out her back. She hadn't been able to do the weeding on their little herb and vegetable garden for the past few days because her back had been aching too much, but this morning she had woken up just before dawn full of energy.

When Inuyasha had reluctantly agreed to go hunting when she pushed him at breakfast, because they did have to eat, and she really felt like eating rabbit or fish, she had rushed to get all her jobs done, airing the futon, scrubbing down the wooden bench where she prepared their food, cleaning out the fire pit. It was still early in the day. And now the weeding was done.

Her hands came forward to rest on her baby bump, rubbing circles over her floral patterned kosode. This baby would be cherished. She thought with sadness and love of the other little life that Inuyasha and her had made and lost. She had miscarried their baby last year at around three months and Inuyasha had been inconsolable. They had mourned together as she had recovered, but when he had haltingly suggested that perhaps it was his fault, that a hanyou was just not meant to have a child, she had put him straight very quickly, saying that she didn't believe that for one minute. And now, according to Kaede, it would not be long until their second child arrived.

Kagome rocked back on her heels, ready to push herself to her feet, and realised with dismay that she was stuck. Sometimes she forgot that her centre of gravity was so changed now that she was heavily pregnant, and simple things like getting to her feet from the ground were much more difficult. She tried to think about her problem logistically. If only she was over near the fence, she'd be able to pull herself up easily, but she was on the other side of the garden with nothing to grab on to. Her back was beginning to hurt again; it had been off and on again all morning, and she needed to get back inside before…

"Fuck Kagome, are you alright? I told you I would do the weeding later!"

She sighed, squinting up into the glare where the anxious and irritated face of her husband was partially blocking the spring sunshine. "I'm fine Inuyasha, you don't need to worry. But I'm a little stuck."

He looked at her quizzically for a moment, and then realised her problem. Coming to her rescue with a fanged grin, he dropped the pair of rabbits he'd caught for dinner on the ground and then reached down his strong arms and lifted her to her feet. She smiled her thanks at him, and then pushed her knuckles into her lower back, trying to relieve the ache that was increasing.

Inuyasha pushed her hands away gently and began kneading her back himself. "Why on earth were you weeding the garden if your back was hurting again, wench?" he muttered, doing his best to relieve her discomfort. The muscles in her back were rock hard, and he did his best to loosen them without hurting her.

Kagome pouted, leaning her forehead on his shoulder, grimacing in a mixture of pain and relief. "I did the gardening because I felt fine", she snipped. This is why she had wanted to get back inside before Inuyasha came home. Ever since Kaede had said that the baby would probably be arriving soon, he hadn't left her alone for more than a few minutes. In fact, this whole pregnancy he had constantly been by her side. She loved him so much, but at the same time, his intense need to take care of her every minute of the day was a little stifling.

"Well, maybe now you'll listen to me when I say to let me do it", he said with a slightly smug expression.

Kagome felt a strong urge to hit him hard in the shoulder, but then that intense pain in her back rolled through again. She groaned, gripping on to his fire rat suikan with both hands and leaned into him, rocking her hips to try and relieve the discomfort.

"Kagome?" asked Inuyasha uncertainly. He supported her as she rocked, sudden fear lurching in his gut. When Kagome had lost the baby last year, she had been so ill. For days her body had been racked with fever, Kaede struggling to bring her temperature down. She had been barely conscious, delirious, and Inuyasha had been frantic, terrified that he would lose not only the baby, but her too.

The only thing that had kept him sane were Kaede's stern but supportive words, and Sango taking his place at Kagome's side for a little while so Miroku could drag him out to get a little fresh air. And when Kagome had finally woken up, and Kaede had broken the news that their baby had not survived, her sobs had shattered him, even as he held her and cried silent tears along with her, grieving for the little one they would never get to meet.

This whole pregnancy he had been struggling with a fear that Kagome and the baby would suddenly be taken away. He knew it was irrational. Kagome had recovered well and was very healthy and strong. Kaede had been giving her regular checks, and he made sure that he was always around so that he could pick up any early signs of sickness with his sensitive nose. He could hear the baby's heart whenever he leaned close enough, a rapid whooshing beat that brought him comfort whenever he heard it. But still he was afraid.

Kagome sighed deeply as the pain ebbed away. This ache in her back just kept getting worse. It had been going on for a few days now, at first only every now and then, but this morning it seemed to be coming on in a regular pattern… oh. Her heart started beating faster as she worked out what was going on, and she could have hit herself in the head for not recognising it sooner. She'd probably been in early labour for days, and now it was becoming more established. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she should tell Inuyasha yet. The contractions, if that's what they were, weren't too close together yet, she could probably make lunch and tell him after. She pulled on Inuyasha's hand as she tried to move towards their little hut, but he held her firmly in his arms.

"What's going on Kagome?" he said softly, his ears having picked up her elevated heart rate. His eyes searched her face for any sign of continued pain. "Should I be worried?"

Kagome reached up and stroked his cheek gently, smiling, trying to smooth away the anxious expression. "I don't think worry is the right word to use. But I'm thinking that maybe we will get to meet our baby today. Maybe tomorrow." Kagome had attended quite a few births in the village with Kaede while she learnt more about healing as her apprentice, and she knew that first time births often took a long time.

Inuyasha stiffened, his ears pointed upwards in high alert. "What do we do!? Do you need me to go get Kaede now?"

Kagome gave him a comforting hug, trying to wrap her arms around him as well as she could with her baby bump in the way. "Inuyasha, you need to calm down. Please." She tilted her face back to look up at his. "I'm counting on you to be strong for me. I'll let you know when it's time to go get Kaede. Maybe you could get Sango to sit with me too, in a little while. But right now, I think it's time to eat. Do you think you could clean those rabbits for me?"

Kagome started off towards their little hut, pushing aside the hanging mat covering the doorway, and sliding off her zori as she stepped up onto the raised wooden platform of their living area. Miso soup would be good, not too heavy on her stomach. She leaned forward to get a small fire started in the fire pit, flint ready in her hand, when another rolling pain hit her. She went down on her hands and knees and rocked, trying to breathe through it and stay on top of the pain. She couldn't help but give a small moan at the height of the contraction, and Inuyasha instantly appeared in the doorway, as if summoned.

"Fuck."

He dropped down beside her, hands hovering uncertainly for a moment, then rubbed on her back like he had been a few minutes before. She leaned her body against him as he massaged her, pressing his thumbs in circles just above her tailbone where her muscle spasms seemed the tightest.

"Harder", moaned Kagome, and he increased the pressure, but not too much, worried he would bruise her. After a few moments, she breathed out a sigh of relief. "It's gone."

Inuyasha sat and pulled Kagome into his lap without a word, arms wrapped tightly around her, his nose buried in her neck. Kagome hugged him back, feeling the tension practically vibrating through his arms as he began to rock slightly, a faint keening whimper mostly hidden by her hair as he pushed himself tightly against her.

"Inu, what…"

"What if I lose you? What if I lose both of you?"

The words were a broken whisper that she had to strain to hear, and then all the constant touching, sniffing, need to be no more than three feet away from her for her entire pregnancy made horrible sense. Her heart broke for him, and she turned in his arms, struggling to see his face.

"No, no, Inuyasha, look at me." She pushed on his shoulders as he resisted, burrowing his face into her hair. "Inu please!"

He sat back, and Kagome wiped away the silent tears that he had tried to hide, still rolling slowly down his cheeks. "I don't think that's going to happen. I'm much too stubborn to go anywhere without you. I chose to come back to you, remember? Not even five centuries could keep us apart. And the way this baby has been kicking me, I'm pretty sure he or she has inherited stubbornness from both of us."

She kissed away the tears on his cheeks, tasting salt. "I love you so much, my Inu. In just a little while, we are going to be a bigger family. You are going to be a Papa, and our little baby is going to love you so much. We just need to get through this day together."

She dropped her eyes down to her rounded stomach. "I'm a little nervous, more than a little nervous actually. This is going to hurt… a lot." She sighed, rubbing one hand over her stomach. "I know it's not traditional, but do you think… maybe, you could stay with me, when our baby is born?"

She felt Inuyasha's strong fingers tilting up her chin, and she smiled at him as he did his best to give her a fanged grin, unshed tears still brightening his eyes. "Keh. When have we ever done things the traditional way Kagome? Why would we start now?"

Kagome's eyes sparkled, but then glazed a little as another wave of pain rolled into her. Inuyasha pulled her forward so that her head rested on his shoulder and pushed his strong fingers into her back again. "I got you Kagome, breathe through it. Lean into me koibito." She rocked her hips, moaning a little, as Inuyasha massaged.

He sniffed the air, noticing a familiar scent coming towards their hut, and breathed a sigh of relief. This would solve the problem of leaving Kagome on her own to go get Sango, and alert Kaede that Kagome was in labour. There was no way he was going to leave her side today. He hadn't planned on it anyway, prepared to fight anyone who ordered him out, Kagome included, but knowing that she wanted him to stay too made him doubly determined.

Shippou wandered in the door, carrying the pair of mostly skinned rabbits. "Hey Kagome, did Inuyasha forget these? I just found them on the… what's goin' on!?"

Inuyasha grinned at him, continuing to rub Kagome's back. "Excellent timing runt. Looks like Kagome's having the baby today. Do you think you could get Sango and Kaede for us?"

Shippou's eyes widened in delight. "Really! Today?" He dropped the pair of rabbits over on the little table where Kagome prepared meals, and then took off running. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't have the baby before I get back, okay?" he called over his shoulder.

"I'll do my best", muttered Kagome as the pain from the contraction tapered off, dragging herself upwards using Inuyasha like a post. Inuyasha chuckled. "Can you help me up please?" Inuyasha helped her to her feet.

"I need to walk", she said.

"Are you sure?" asked Inuyasha, his brows lowered in puzzlement, as he kissed her on the forehead.

Kagome nodded. "Walking helps bring the baby down into the right position."

Inuyasha scratched his ear. "Well, I guess that makes sense. Let's go for a stroll wench."

He helped Kagome walk back outside, and they began doing laps around the hut, stopping every few minutes for Kagome to lean on Inuyasha as a contraction hit. He rubbed her back each time, murmuring endearments in her ear; how strong she was, how proud he was of her, how he couldn't wait for the three of them to be a family together.

They had just come around the corner of the hut to see Sango standing at the front door when Kagome halted, a flush of embarrassment saturating her cheeks. As her posture stiffened a sweet smell flooded Inuyasha's nose. "You okay koibito?"

Kagome nodded, looking down. "My water just broke", she said hesitantly. "At least I think that's what happened." Inuyasha realised she was embarrassed because she thought she may have wet herself.

"It definitely doesn't smell like the other kind of leak", he smiled, squeezing her shoulder. "Your water is meant to break, right? So that's a good thing."

Sango put down her carrying cloth near the doorway, and walked over to them, smiling. "So, today's the big day huh? Shippou is very excited. I've got him helping Miroku look after the children at the moment to keep him occupied, otherwise he would have been back here. You're welcome to join them Inuyasha, I left enough lunch there for you too."

Kagome leaned her weight back on Inuyasha, as his arms came around to encircle her shoulders protectively. "No", he said gruffly. "I'm not leaving Kagome."

As Sango looked at them uncertainly, Kagome smiled at Sango. "I asked him to stay Sango. After last time I…" Her eyes glazed over a little as another contraction hit, and he immediately turned her around, so her head rested on his shoulder, rubbing into her back as she began rocking her hips and moaning.

"Breathe Kagome" he whispered in her ear as his strong fingers pressed in around her lower spine. "You're doing so well. You're so strong. That's the way koibito. My powerful miko, full of fire. There's nothing you can't do."

Smiling, touched at the sight of Inuyasha treating Kagome so tenderly in front of another person, Sango turned and went into the hut, happy to give them space, and began preparing things around the little hut. She put water on to boil and got some clean linen out of Kagome's storage chest. Seeing the rabbits left on the table, she began preparing them to make a stew, knowing that Kagome and Inuyasha would be hungry later.

It was probably an hour later, when the rabbit and vegetable stew was bubbling in a pot hanging over the firepit, and Sango had the sleeping futon ready that the pair reappeared, coming in through the doorway. Kagome stumbled, her legs rubbery, and Inuyasha lowered her to the floor, sitting so she could lean against him.

Kagome was flushed and sweating. "Sango", she moaned, "I can't do this!" She turned her face into Inuyasha again, her low guttural groan buried into his shoulder.

Inuyasha turned his worried eyes to Sango. "Her pain is all the time now. Is that…" Sango answered his implied question soothingly.

"It's fine, that's what's meant to happen Inuyasha. Her body is getting ready to help push the baby out."

She sat down next to them, a cool wet cloth in her hands. She wiped Kagome's sweaty face, making soothing sounds. "You're nearly there Kagome. That feeling you've got right now, that you can't go on, that you won't be able to do this, that's totally normal. It happens to every woman in labour." She pushed Kagome's sweaty fringe out of her eyes, and kissed her forehead, remembering her own labours and feeling empathy for her friend. "Pretty soon, you'll probably feel like you need to push, but if you can, hold on just a little longer until Kaede gets here."

Kagome moaned as the contractions piled up, one on top of the other. "I can't, I really can't." She rocked against Inuyasha, as he rumbled a soothing purr with his hands pushing down her spine, his cheeks a little flushed at making a noise that was usually private in front of Sango, but willing to do it because Kagome had previously said that it helped.

As Sango leant to wring out the cloth and re-wet it, the hanging mat in the doorway was pulled aside, and Kaede shuffled in quietly.

"About time you got here baba", growled Inuyasha, his fingers still massaging Kagome's back as she panted. The old miko raised one eyebrow at the presence of the hanyou.

"Inuyasha, why are ye still here?" she asked, placing a cloth bundle and small wooden birthing stool on the wooden floor as she slid her feet out of her zori.

"Kagome asked him to stay", explained Sango, as Inuyasha growled.

"I'm not leavin'", he rumbled, turning his attention back to Kagome. "Kagome wants me here. I need to be here. After last time I…", he swallowed, then looked at Kaede, unable to hide his trepidation, naked fear revealed in his eyes. "Please, I need to stay with them."

Kaede looked at him appraisingly for a moment, watching as Kagome moaned again and he murmured words of encouragement and love into her ear, and then she smiled. Groaning a little as she bent down to sit on her knees as her older bones protested, she shuffled forwards, so she could examine Kagome.

"Alright Inuyasha, ye can stay. Time to help welcome your little one into the world."

Shippou sat in the loquat tree outside Sango and Miroku's hut, pouting, taking a break from playing with the twins, who had pulled his tail during their game of tag just a few too many times. At least now they were happily sitting in the long grass near their father, playing a game with sticks and flowers. "I don't see why Inuyasha gets to stay and I don't", he muttered to Miroku. "I love Kagome too you know."

Miroku looked up from his spot leaning against the trunk of the tree and smiled, cradling his youngest son in his arms. He had crashed for a nap after doing his best to toddle after his older sisters. "We all love Kagome Shippou. She is working hard right now. Bringing a baby into the world can be a long and painful process, and she needs to concentrate all her energy onto that task, rather than worrying about you."

"But I could help!" Shippou whined. "Sango is helping, Inuyasha is helping, Kaede is helping! I could, I don't know… fetch and carry stuff, or find her good things to eat."

Miroku nodded in approval. "You will still be able to do all those things for her. She and Inuyasha will need all the help they can get once the baby is born, because Kagome has no family here in the village to help."

"Pfft", snorted Shippou, picking one of the bright orange loquats and biting into its sweet flesh. "She has family. We're her family now."

Miroku smiled. "I guess that is true. We certainly have been through a lot together. Loving bonds of family created through trust and friendship." He looked up after hearing Shippou drop the fruit out of his hands in surprise. A huge fanged grin unfurled across Shippou's small face.

"A baby! I can hear a baby crying Miroku!" He leapt to the ground and would have bolted straight to Inuyasha and Kagome's hut, had Miroku not halted him with a shout of "Wait", as loudly as he dared with his sleeping son in his arms. Shippou paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"I know you are anxious to meet the new baby Shippou. I am too, but please, give them a little time alone together before we all go over. Kagome is probably feeling very sore and tired, and knowing Inuyasha, he will be in protective mode. We will all go over together, when Sango says we can."

Shippou slumped down on a tree root next to Miroku, crossing his arms with a pout. "Don't see why I'm always the last to see stuff", he muttered, then leapt up in alarm as he realised that Miroku's girls had noticed he was no longer safely up on his perch in the tree.

"Let's play catch Shippou!" they squealed, and he was off through the long grass, with the twins running along as fast as they could behind him. Miroku grinned, amused by Shippou's zig zagging efforts to evade the twins in the long grass. They always seemed to catch him in the end. He put it down to them inheriting their mother's superior demon slaying skills.

He leaned down, tenderly kissing his son's forehead, wondering who Inuyasha and Kagome's baby would take after. Another little one in their eclectic family. He loved his own little brood, and would be happy to add more children, if Sango was willing. Sighing in contentment, he leaned his head back against the tree, dozing a little in the warm sunshine, happy with most of his little family safely around him.

Inuyasha looked down at the tiny girl nestled in Kagome's arms, suckling determinedly at her mother's breast. Her little eyes were closed in bliss, and her pale chubby arms made clumsy swooping motions, grasping at nothing. He reached down and gently touched one of her tiny ears, covered with downy white hair, still folded over against her head.

He was sitting on their futon, with his back propped up against the wall with Kagome leaning back against him, exhausted but blissful. Kaede had left a few minutes ago with a promise to come back again tomorrow to check on them, happy with the way Kagome was recovering from the birth and pleased to see the tiny girl feeding well. Sango was tidying up before she left to go back to her own children.

"Inuyasha", Sango said softly, a bit hesitant to interrupt the little family, but wanting to ask a question before she left. "I know Shippou would like to come and meet the baby, but would you like us to keep him at our place for tonight?"

Inuyasha looked up with a dazed expression. "What?"

Sango smiled, remembering a similar expression on Miroku's face when the twins had been born. "We will keep Shippou at our hut tonight, and bring him over to visit tomorrow", she said gently.

"Oh. Okay", said Inuyasha, looking back down to Kagome and the baby. Then realising she was leaving, he looked up again. "Sango wait, I…" he frowned not quite sure what he wanted to say.

She smiled again, taking in the happy picture of Kagome humming to her baby as she fed her, besotted, in her own little world, wrapped in Inuyasha's fire rat suikan with his protective arms around them both. "You're welcome Inuyasha. You and Kagome, and your little girl, are family. There isn't anything that I wouldn't do to help. I will see you three tomorrow."

Inuyasha looked at her with a focused expression, as if determined to say something he found difficult. "Sango, I know I don't say it much, but you and Miroku, and your children, I… yeah." He blushed a little at not being able to say exactly what he wanted. "You're family too."

"Thank you Inuyasha. That means a lot. If you get hungry, there's rabbit stew in the pot, and miso soup. I have the tea things out too, if you wanted to make some for Kagome soon. It's important for her to drink regularly to help with feeding the baby." She smiled at the little family one last time, and set off for home, happy to be leaving before it got too dark.

Kagome had finished feeding the baby and was laughing at the drunk look on her tiny face as she dozed off, little fists clenched tight under her chin. She wiped off a small dribble of milk from her baby's chin.

"What are we going to call her Inuyasha?", Kagome asked softly. "I have an idea, but I want to hear what you think first."

"Anything you come up with is bound to be better than any ideas I have wench", he smiled, unable to look away from the tiny little scrap in Kagome's arms.

"Okay then. I want to name her after a woman who was very beautiful, so I've been told, and very strong. She didn't let what others think sway her from what she knew was right and loved with her whole heart despite pressure from society and her family to follow what everyone else did." She leaned back and reached up to kiss Inuyasha gently on the chin. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to name her Izayoi."

Inuyasha's eyes brightened with tears for the second time that day, but for an entirely different reason. He hadn't heard his mother's name spoken by another for such a long time, in fact apart from Myoga and Sesshomaru, he didn't think there was anyone else who remembered her. He was certainly the only person to visit her lonely grave. He had taken Kagome once, not long after she had returned through the well, and had told her his mother's name then, but hadn't mentioned it since.

"Can I hold her?" he asked in a trembling voice. Kagome smiled back at him, tears in her own eyes. She carefully placed their daughter in Inuyasha's arms, choking back a sound that she wasn't sure was laughter or sobbing at the reverent look of pure adoration in his eyes as he gazed at his sleeping daughter.

"Izayoi", he murmured, stroking the tiny ear again, which twitched at the slight touch.

"I couldn't have done this today without you my Inu", said Kagome, leaning against his shoulder.

"Sure you could have", scoffed Inuyasha, careful to keep his voice low so as not to wake the baby. "I don't think you realise just how strong you are Kagome. I've never doubted you."

"I'm strong because you believe I am", she smiled, then yawned. Exhaustion was beginning to set in.

"You need to have a nap before Izayoi wakes up again", said Inuyasha. "Lay down."

Wanting to protest, but so tired that she realised that she needed to give in, Kagome laid down on the futon. Inuyasha carefully placed Izayoi next to her and covered both of them in his fire rat. He sat against the wall, knees up, and Kagome was reminded of all those times during their fight against Naraku that he had slept that way, sitting against the wall on guard, even in his sleep. Her eyelids were heavy, but she didn't want to close her eyes. Inuyasha gently stroked her forehead as she yawned again.

As her eyes drifted closed, he realised that their nights where it was just the two of them had come to an end. It both excited and terrified him. He sat watching Kagome sleep, her hands curled protectively around their daughter. He realised that he wouldn't want it any other way.

#inuyasha x kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #Bearpluscat fanfics

[diinofayce]

Personal Training

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader | Word Count: 3,080 (cause I’m a wordy bitch) | Warnings: SMUT! 18+ DO NOT READ IF NOT 18+!! , Wrist tying, Choking, Metal Hand Fetishizing, Language, A little bit of Bucky thigh action, um. yeah.

“Come on, doll, I know you’re better than this,” Bucky taunted as he lunged at you, leading with a knee aimed at your abdomen and reaching out for your shoulders to pull you in. You push his knee down with both your hands and spin to catch his flesh arm in a lock, flipping him over with a soft grunt. Releasing him and aiming a stomp to his ribs, he rolled out of the way getting his feet under him and bouncing back up into a standing position.

You jump back on the balls of your feet, hands raised by your cheek bones, elbows protecting your ribcage as you wait for his next move. Bucky has had you on the defensive for the last ten minutes and while all of your years of mixed martial arts training has given a good boost to your endurance it was nothing compared to super soldier serum. Sweat was running in rivulets down your neck and soaking the back of your tank top while Bucky was barely breathing heavy.

“You’re the one that can’t land a hit, Barnes,” you taunt back, quickly swiping a bead of sweat from your forehead before it found it’s way into your eye. Bucky took that moment of distraction to sweep low, going for your ankles. You manage to lift one, kicking out at his face, but he blocks your foot and hooks one foot behind your knee while pushing at your ankle with the other foot - dropping you to your stomach. Keeping your leg wrapped up in his feet he rolls on top of you, wrapping his metal arm around your throat while pushing down on the back of your head with his flesh hand. Releasing your leg he pushes his toes into the mat on either side of your body and pushes his chest forward into your back.

The cold metal of Bucky’s arm against your throat and his body pressed against yours causes you to flush, you feel heat rake through your body and a small moan unwillingly escapes your lips. A sound that Bucky could hear even if he didn’t have super soldier hearing. You bite your lip and tap on his arm in surrender and he rolls off you. You take a breath to get yourself under control and force yourself to your feet. You turn to face Bucky in a fighting stance again but he’s just staring at you with a smirk and his hands on his hips.

“What was that?” Bucky asked mischievously.

“The sound of you squashing me and forcing all the air out of my lungs?” You quip back, the lie coming out too desperate.

“Uh-huh. Okay,” Bucky accepted, taking his fighting position.

You wasted no time in moving forward. A jab, punch, left hook combo that was all easily blocked, but you let the force of your blocked hook spin you into a turn back side kick to Bucky’s ribs that landed with a solid thump. Bucky grunted slightly and grabbed your foot, hooking his other hand under your upper thigh - a little too close to personal areas, causing you to tense - and lifted you into the air, spinning you so you landed on your back forcing the wind from your lungs. Bucky followed your descent, landing with his knee pressed against your core and his flesh hand wrapped around your throat. You couldn’t help the loud moan that fell from your lips or your hip bucking against his thick thigh. The blush that rose to your cheeks was furious and the smirk that graced his face was world ending. You planted a knee against his chest and threw him off you.

“Okay, good training session. See you later,” you barked quickly and full out sprinted from the gym.

As soon as you were in your apartment you immediately slammed into your bathroom and turned on the hot water, hoping to soak your sore muscles and steam out your over imaginative mind. Stripping of your clothes and hopping into the hot water you sighed as it washed over your skin and soothed the tension from your body. However it did nothing to relieve you of the thoughts of Bucky and his metal arm pinning you down and his wonderfully muscled thighs pressed against your core. You found your fingers trailing down your stomach and down to your cunt, rubbing a steady rhythm against your clit. You leaned back against the cool tile of your shower and brought your other hand to your chest, twisting your left nipple harshly as you slide one finger inside your heat.

“Fuck,” you moan loudly, feeling secure in your apartment. “God, Bucky, just like that,” you continue, imagining Bucky’s metal fingers inside you, stroking you to climax. Sliding another finger into your cunt you pick up the speed on your clit and you can feel the coil that was already strung so tight from training with Bucky fit to snap. A curl of fingers against your g-spot had you screaming Bucky’s name at your orgasm and sliding down the wall to let the water wash away the evidence of your activity. Sighing in content you stand on slightly shaking legs and proceed to wash yourself off before stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a large, fluffy blue towel. Securing it around your breasts you grab a small towel to wring out your hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom you stop dead in your tracks at a the sight of James Buchanan Barnes sitting on the foot of your bed, a shit eating grin on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You shriek, your voice going up at least two octaves.

Bucky licked his lips, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth, as he stood and stalked over to you looking at you like he was hunting you to devour you. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to do some more private training,” he answered coyly, backing you up until you were pressed against your wall. “From the sounds of it, though, you might have taken care of it all on your own.”

He pinned you to the wall, both his arms on either side of your head, the afternoon sun reflecting off the gold in his vibranium arm. Your heart was beating a hundred beats a minute and from the way his eyes kept flicking from your lips to your chest to your eyes, you knew he could hear it. The spice of Bucky’s cologne mixed with the musk from the workout in the gym filling your senses causing moisture to pool between your legs.

“But I wouldn’t argue to actually being present when you scream my name,” Bucky continued, leaning in and barely grazing his lips up the side of your neck. You shuddered underneath him and could feel his lips twist up into a smirk. His lips came to rest on the outer shell of your ear. “Do you want this?” he whispered huskily, pressing his thigh against your core. You bit your lip and whimpered before nodding, rocking your hips against him involuntarily.

Bucky’s metal hand came down on your hip to still your movement. “I need words, doll. Do you want this?” He asked forcefully. You knew you probably shouldn’t be doing this, it was probably in the code of ethics somewhere for the Avengers and you knew that if you said no that Bucky would walk away and that would be the end of it. But you wanted it, you wanted him so bad and you couldn’t find yourself caring if there was fallout from your team.

“Yes. Yes, Bucky, I want this. I want you,” you responded breathlessly and he rocked your hips against him in response.

“What’s the safe word?” Bucky asked, teeth lightly grazing from your ear to the muscle on the side of your neck.

“Pineapple,” you moaned and you felt him pull away to look at you. Opening your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, and looking into his confused you blue eyes you felt yourself flush. “I’m allergic to pineapple,” you explained sheepishly. He chuckled softly before taking your thighs in his hands and lifting you up. You squeak in surprise and wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Bucky turns and tosses you on the bed, staring hungrily at your legs and where your towel has ridden up your thighs barely covering your decency.

Bucky tugs at the thick drawstring of his sweat pants until it comes out of the waistband entirely. “Hands up doll,” he commands and you comply without question. He carefully threads the drawstring around the rungs of your bed frame and wrist with a slip knot. Bucky slid a finger in between the string and your wrists to make sure it wasn’t too tight - he wouldn’t normally use something like yarn, but in a pinch it would do fine.

Bucky slid both hands down the length of your arms and body, settling on your hips. His fingers dug into the material of the towel that was barely wrapped around you and leaned down his lips were millimeters from yours. His blue eyes were dark with lust as they bore into yours before he pressed his lips to yours. They were soft in comparison to the scratch of his beard on his cheeks and he kissed you with a hunger of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. Cold air suddenly enveloped your body as Bucky pulled the towel off of you, throwing it to the other side of the bed. The sudden exposure made your nipples twist and harden and burst of warmth to coat your inner thighs.

Bucky pulled away from you and raked his fingers over your body. You blushed at the vulnerable position you were in, him fully dressed and you tied up naked under him. “What should I do with you?” Bucky hummed, more to himself than you as he brushed both his calloused and metal fingers over your pert nipples causing you to gasp at the difference in temperature between his hands, back arching off the bed to increase contact. “You want it that bad, doll?” Bucky asked and dipped his head, sucking your left nipple into his mouth. He rolled it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth before switching to the right side with a pop.

He trailed hard and sloppy kisses down your stomach, taking time to bite gently at your belly button. He placed a soft kiss on your pubic mound and then skipping your cunt entirely to kiss the inside of your thighs. You moaned in want and bucked your hips, causing him to place a firm hand on your hip bone and push you back down into the mattress. “You’re so slick for me already, baby girl, I can feel the heat coming off of you.”

Bucky ran his metal hand up your thigh and cupped your core causing you to shiver and clench. “Tell me what you want, baby girl,” Bucky demanded giving the inside of your thigh and firm bite, knowing it would bruise.

You gasped and strained against the hand on your hip, your fingers wrapping around the draw string desperately. “I want you to fuck me,” you reply. “With your metal fingers.” You feel Bucky smirk against your thigh.

“Such a kinky little thing, my baby girl is, gettin’ turned on by my arm. Is that all you want?” He asked as he coated his fingers in your slick and slid one between your folds to press at your opening. He rubbed you in tight, teasing circles as he waited for your response.

“I want you to suck on my clit,” you moaned. You were begging at this point, you were so close to cumming again and he hadn’t even really done anything to you yet.

Bucky hummed in affirmation and pressed his finger inside of you as his tongue flicked out over your clit. You moaned in pleasure, trying to keep your hips still like he wanted. You threw your head back in ecstasy as he used his hand on your hip to grind you against his mouth. He slid another finger in as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his plush lips. He took his mouth from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact, the fire in your belly growing to an intense flame.

“Look at me, baby doll. I want you to look at me when you come apart,” Bucky demanded and you forced your eyes open to look down at him. He lowered his mouth back to you and gave you a hard suck as he curled his fingers against your g-spot expertly. It only took a few strokes and him raking his teeth gently over your clit to have you cumming, his name falling like a prayer from your lips, Bucky removed his fingers to replace them with his tongue. He drank all you had to offer and licked you clean before moving up and capturing your lips with his again. The taste of you on his tongue made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re such a good girl,” Bucky praised reaching up and pulling the string free from your wrists. You let your arms fall to his waist and pull on the hem of his shirt.

“You’re such an over dressed boy,” you respond cheekily.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you before reaching behind him, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off. You let your hands rove over the planes of muscle on his chest and hummed in appreciation. He chuckled and flipped you over at the waist. You hear him removing his sweat pants and taking position behind you.

“Did you like it when I choked you, doll?” Bucky asked as he ran his metal hand up your spine.

“Yes.” You shivered and raised your ass a little in the air. A sharp smack and quick smart of pain flared from your left buttock before he kneaded the pain away. You gasped and felt moisture pool between your legs again, rubbing your thighs together slightly to gain some friction.

“None of that,” Bucky said shoving your legs apart with his knee. “You get punished for doing things like that without permission.” Another smack came to your ass and you moaned, burying your face in your pillow. He wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled you up. “I want to hear you moan, baby girl.” He spanked you again, kneading the pain away as your moans filled the room.

A tearing sound came from behind you and you peeked over your shoulder to see Bucky tearing a condom wrapper open with his teeth. He winked at you as he rolled it on, you couldn’t see his length from this angle and were anxious to feel him inside you. He placed his flesh hand firmly at your waist and let go of your hair so he could guide himself to you. Rubbing his head up and down your folds to add your slick to the lube of the condom, you moaned and tried to push against him, but his hand held you firm. He entered you slowly, he was so thick that you didn’t know if you could stretch any wider and you kept waiting for him to bottom out. Bucky took his time, letting you adjust as he went and by the time he did bottom out, his pubic hair brushing your ass, you were panting.

“Oh, fuck, baby. I need you to relax a little, you’re so god damn tight,” Bucky moaned his fingers clamping down on your hips so tight you knew they’d leave bruises. You took a breath and flexed yourself around him causing him to hiss in pleasure. His metal hand pulled you up by your hair again to get you onto your forearms before he snaked his hand around to clamp over your throat.

Bucky pulled out to his tip before pushing into you hard to the hilt. The hard thrusts paired with his vibranium hand around your throat had you seeing stars. “You’re so fucking wet, baby girl. So hot and wet for me,” Bucky groaned. You would expect him talking dirty about you like he was to embarrass you, but it just made you more turned on.

“Fuck, Bucky, Jesus fuck,” you screamed as he slammed into you over and over. He moaned your name in response as his hand on your hip clamped down ever harder, his thrusting rhythm becoming erratic.

“I need you to come with me, baby girl,” Bucky moaned leaning down and biting a mark into your shoulder.

“I’m so close, Bucky,” you answered, your walls already fluttering against his cock. He pulled you up and against his chest as the hand on your hip moved around you to your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he thrust up into you. One of your hands reached back to tangle and pull at his long locks while you laced your fingers with his metal ones at your throat - coaxing him to squeeze just a little tighter.

The coil in you snapped once again, your cunt clamping down on Bucky’s cock as your orgasm ripped through you. You dug your nails into Bucky’s scalp and ground down against him and with a strangled cry Bucky emptied himself into the condom. He released his hold on your throat slowly and carefully as he peppered soft kisses across your shoulder. You hummed happily and curled a lock of his hair around your fingers lazily. Bucky removed himself from you with a grunt and pulled the condom off, tying it up and disposing it in the waste bin by your bed.

Bucky laid down on his side and pulled your back against his chest, brushing your hair off your shoulder so he could press his face against your bare neck making you giggle as he tickled you with his scruffy cheeks. “That was good training,” he muttered against your sweat slicked skin.

“I learned a lot,” you muttered back, playing with the fingers he splayed across your belly. He hummed in agreement and nuzzled into your hair.

“Wanna get dinner in a few hours? Somewhere out of the tower?” Bucky asked.

“After a nap…and maybe round two,” you agreed, looking back and capturing Bucky’s lips tenderly.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers smut #marvel smut #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fandom #bucky x reader #bucky smut #diinorequests

[rowan-buzzard-whitethorn]

The Rowcan smut is here!

Well my friends. This has been a labor of love. I have literally never written a thing in my life, but I had this bug in my head that wouldn’t get out and I decided to give it a try as an early birthday present to @lu-cien (love of my life)

I tried to find the other people who wanted to be tagged in this? Maybe??@readinglikewildfire @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @deziremyacotar@highladyofidris

Without further ado...

 Lorcan Salvaterre was willing to admit he had been distracted for the past several days.

 Serving his queen was always an honor, and he took great pleasure in being able to dole out the proper ‘incentive’ for the surrounding kingdoms and cities to provide favorable trade to Doranelle. He had been all too happy to use his god granted power to make sure that Maeve’s kingdom continued to prosper. Sometimes his missions led him to small villages, sometimes small kingdoms. Anyone that had the arrogance to believe that they could bargain for steeper export policies than their fathers before them. Either way, once the blood letting was done, he made sure to enjoy his time away by indulging in the following days long celebrations in the ruins.

 For the last several decades, when his queen had decided to send two of her finest soldiers to negotiate, he would find himself accompanied by the ever sulking Rowan Whitethorn. Lorcan had been eager for the prince to swear the blood oath all those years ago- he had skills Lorcan was eager to put to use. However, then over a century had passed and Rowan had been content spend his time sulking and reveling in his mourning. And he was fairly certain the male couldn’t stand him.

 And yet, over the last couple decades Lorcan had seen a change in the male. He remained disciplined as ever, but something had loosened in him. Or perhaps had been unleashed. Rather than retreating after battles to his chambers to brood, he began joining in the revelries that the citizens would hold in the days after. Not only that, but he began bedding females again. Usually whores or whatever swaying set of hips crossed his way. But this past week had been different. It was this last mission that had left a searing memory burned in Lorcan’s head.

 Once they had washed the remaining gore off, and emptied the former regent’s stores of wine, both Lorcan and Rowan had caught the eye of a rather bold female, intent on sharing both of them in her bed that night. When they followed her to an empty bedchamber, Lorcan found himself glancing over to Whitethorn, surprised that he hadn’t balked at the idea of them bedding a woman together. Lorcan couldn't even remember the girl’s name, but what he could remember was a particular moment at the climax of their evening.

 Lorcan was resting on his knees, between the girl's legs while she lay spread out on the large bed. He was enjoying the view of her tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. But what really completed the scene was the prince himself. Standing on the side of the bed, knees bent, thrusting into the girl’s mouth while her head hung off the edge of the bed.

 Lorcan found his eyes routinely straying to Rowan's shaft, disappearing past the girl's lips, and the ragged breathing that accompanied each moment that Rowan allowed his hips to still, to let his cock remain lodged deeply in the girl's throat while she moaned and gagged.

 After one of these instances, she finally pulled her head up to relinquish the head of Rowan's cock with a pop so she could use her hand instead, resting her jaw. She began pumping Rowan in long strokes.

 Then Lorcan heard her murmur, “I want to watch both of you” and Rowan’s head had snapped up in slight surprise, but Lorcan did not hesitate.

 He lunged for the male, grabbing him behind his head and dragging him towards his lips. Rowan tensed for the briefest moment before responding, his full lips pressing against Lorcan's own. When Lorcan dared to bite down on his lips, they had parted slightly to release a ragged groan. He seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into the prince's mouth, savoring the smooth glide and their lips moving together.

 Rowan groaned, breaking the kiss, and with a jolt, Lorcan felt warmth splatter across his skin. He looked down in time to see the woman coaxing the last of Rowan’s climax from him, cum spreading from the woman’s breasts all the way to Lorcan's torso thin ropes. The site alone was enough for him to pull out from between the blonde’s legs and give himself a few quick tugs to find his own release.

 Even though that had been almost a week ago now, Lorcan couldn't forget the ragged breaths, the way that the girl’s body had looked painted with their mingled streaks of white.

 During their journey back, Rowan had gone back to his normal, cold self, but Lorcan was still reeling at this new side the prince had revealed, and he found himself wondering in the days since if Whitethorn had ever been with a male. Lorcan had realized fairly early in his long life that fucking males was just as enjoyable as females. And made sure to enjoy both as often as he could. And while his moans during their kiss had made Lorcan believe he wouldn't turn down such an opportunity, he knew Rowan had been fairly young when he was mated. So what experience did he have? If any?

 All of these thoughts continued bouncing around in his head- during his trainings, a couple times while he had laid awake at night, seeking sleep. Even now, after the long run he just took. He was still slick with sweat, with his blood pounding in his ears as he makes his way down a large spiral stairwell. Carved into the stone beneath his Queen’s palace lay the vast and lavish baths, with saunas and swimming pools of various temperatures. Lorcan was looking forward to soaking his frame in the furnace heated waters of one of the chambers his queen had allotted for her personal guards’ personal use. After arriving and disrobing at the first set of entry doors, he padded his way past the colorful mosaics and arched pathways to the last of the smaller heated pools. When he turned the corner, he was only mildly surprised to find that he was not alone.

 Of course he was here. Of fucking course he was. As if his own distracting thoughts had summoned him, Lorcan stood stock still for several seconds as he took in the lounging frame of Rowan Whitethorn in the recessed tub. He was seated on the submerged step, with his elbows braced against the stone ledge. His head tilted back, eyes closed. Lorcan let his eyes drift lower and found that Rowan’s muscled chest and arms were gleaming in the calming lantern light of the caverned room. A bottle of massage oil sat behind him, and the room had the sharp scent of eucalyptus. Whitethorns shoulder must giving him trouble.

 Lorcan made his way further into the chamber, as Rowan opened one lazy eye to peer at him. Lorcan didn't miss the slight tension that increased in the males frame at the sight of him. Still, he spoke with an air of utter relaxation.

 “In case you haven't noticed, this room is taken”. The bite to his words was utterly lost when Lorcan notices the slightest dip of the prince's eyes below his pelvis before strictly closing them again, resuming his relaxed pose. An idea was forming in the back of Lorcan’s mind.

He merely smirked. “Luckily for you, you now have me for company ”

 Rowan didn’t respond as he stepped down into the heated waters, and positioned himself on the bench seat opposite him. After a few seconds Whitethorn sits up, bringing his arms down into the water and looking Lorcan in the eyes. Lorcan breaks the silence first.

“How’s that shoulder? You should be using the peppermint oil”

“It’s fine. And I just prefer the scent.” A pause. “How was your report to the queen?”

 Lorcan resisted tensing. His Queen had summoned him to her bedchamber to give all the details on their latest mission, and he hadn’t understood why. But she had barely looked at him during the report and when he was done, she placed her hand on his cheek, leaning in with a slight smile. Very well. Now be a good boy and send in Fenrys.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 Rowan’s green eyes remained trained on him. “Will you ever learn to train your expressions? If I can see all your thoughts then Maeve certainly can. It doesn’t serve you.”

“This coming from a male with his emotions literally written on his face?”

 Rowan let out a low snarl and Lorcan dropped it. Besides, that idea of his was beginning to shape and he couldn’t piss off the prince too quickly. He let their silence linger for a long moment

“We may need to head east again once the power shift is complete.” Rowan nodded. “And I’m sure we could find some way to entertain ourselves again while we’re there.” He smirks. “Since I know now how much you enjoy being entertained.”

 Rowan gives him a warning look but Lorcan stands up and walks through the waist high water over to the other male. He bends slightly into Rowan’s personal space to pick up the bottle of oil, tipping it to allow several drops to fall into his palm. After setting it back down, he begins spreading the smooth oil into his chest, pressing into the sore areas at the top of his pectorals. From this close a distance, Lorcan can’t miss the way Rowan's eyes track his hands’ progress over his skin. He smirked to himself. The prince made it almost too easy.

 Holding his gaze, he said “Then again, unlike you, I don’t need a barrel of wine allow myself the benefit of giving in to a good distraction. I allow my body to take what it wants, when it wants.”

 Rowan looked up at him, unamused. “I’m aware. It shows in your technique. Undisciplined. Too loose.”

 Lorcan saw his opportunity and seized it. He bends, leaning over to place both hands on either side of the prince, enjoying the way his jaw tightened with the sudden lack of air between them. Lorcan makes sure to keep his voice even and low. “Just as your technique shows your own weakness of being too disciplined. Like a bowstring wound too tight. Don’t you wonder what might happen if you just let go? ”

 Rowan stands up, forcing Lorcan to remove one braced hand as the prince makes a fluid movement out of the water, sloshing a small wave of water over the edge with him. Lorcan had expected this kind of reaction, and uses his remaining braced palm to vault himself out of the pool. He catches Whitethorn in two long strides and grabs him by the elbow.

“Easy there, prince”, he says in a low voice. “You wouldn’t people thinking you kept that silver spoon up your ass”

 Rowan spins them and pushes Lorcan against the wall. “Have you even considered the possibility that you are not the type of distraction I’m looking for?”

 Lorcan lets out a rough laugh. “I’m not so sure. Are you certain you would have come so fast from that girl’s hand on your cock if it weren’t for my tongue in your mouth?”

 Something flares in Rowan’s eyes and Lorcan presses his advantage. He uses Rowan’s moment of hesitation to flip their positions, his hands braced on the male’s shoulders. Leaning in close enough to share breath. “Let’s see if I can remind you.”

 Their lips crash together, their teeth bumping hard in a bruising kiss. To Lorcan’s great satisfaction, Rowan responds immediately and just as forcefully, pressing his tongue against his own, against the roof of his mouth. Lorcan felt every his every instinct come alive when he heard that same sound come out of Rowan's throat. That sound that he’d made a week ago, somewhere between a moan and a growl. Lorcan’s hands move down to Rowan’s sides, pressing in closer. One of Whitethorn’s hands slide up and around Lorcan's head, tangling in his hair, while the other pulled at his lower back, colliding their damp bodies against one another.

 Lorcan feels Rowan's cock, half hard, pressing against his belly. He knows that any moment, the prince’s better judgement might have him pulling away, retreating back. So he swiftly lowers his hand across the bunched muscles of Rowan’s lower belly, and roughly cups Rowan's manhood, giving him a slight squeeze. He releases a quick burst of air, his grip tightening on his scalp.

 Lorcan dares to lean in and whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait to see how tightly wound you actually are”

“Do you speak in anything but innuendo?”

 Lorcan merely chuckles. He’s had enough talking. Rowan had begun making those noises again, noises that drove him wild, and he wanted to hear more. He wanted to break past the veneer of ‘honorable male’ the prince carried around and get him to submit to his baser instincts. Those instincts that only spoke of need and selfish impulse. So he started moving down Rowan’s body, dragging his mouth down his chest, briefly tugging on one nipple with his teeth, and trailing his tongue down below his belly button, before lowering himself to his knees. His hand had set up a slow, luxurious rhythm, and he uses it to guided that hard cock to his mouth.

 He glances up towards Rowan's face. His expression still somewhat uncertain, but his lips are parted, his breaths picking up in speed, his green eyes taking on a feral intensity. Maintaining that eye contact, Lorcan closes that tiny space between them to press his lips and tongue to the reddened head of Rowan's cock. He sucks his cheeks in, increasing the suction and pulling the engorged head past his lips, so he could fully taste him, his precum giving off a slightly salty taste. Rowans eyelids droop slightly, entering that sweet haze Lorcan knows only too well.

 After only a few seconds of letting his tongue swirl around the tip of Rowan's cock, he opens his mouth wider, pulling back his lips to dive over a greater portion of his shaft, engulfing him, then letting his lips drag a strong pull back over the length of his shaft. At that, finally, he hears Rowan release a deep, unrestrained groan that seems pulled from deep inside him, dragged out over the length of an exhale. Rowan places a hand on Lorcan’s shoulder, squeezing, silently urging him to repeat the action, while he his other hand braces against the cool stone wall at his back.

 Lorcan devotes himself to his task, easily taking the prince's cock in all the way to the base, having become well accustomed long ago to relaxing his jaw and throat to accept males full shaft down his throat, while still letting those small muscles contract involuntarily at the intrusion, a sensation that makes Rowan’s groans rises slightly in pitch with each pass. Those godsdamned sounds. Lorcan uses his free hand to grip himself, giving his own hard cock a set of swift pulls. Suddenly Rowan bends, hands gripping Lorcan under the arms to lift him slightly off his knees, only to abruptly spin him around, shoving him again to his knees, only this time facing away from Rowan, with his hands braced on the tiles below him.

 He bends over, one hand curled around Lorcan neck. Rowan’s voice indeed takes on that unleashed tone Lorcan had been looking for. He whispers furiously in his ear, his lips grazing the round edge, “Playtime’s over. My turn.”

 His lips move down Lorcan’s spine, stopping occasionally to take a chunk of skin and bite down, making Lorcan hiss. He drags them all the way to Lorcan’s ass, repositioning himself to brace both hands on his cheeks to spread them, making his tongue’s final destination that puckered entrance, swirling and probing with his tongue while still releasing harsh exhales through his nose.

 Lorcan groans, at last allowing himself a moment of undiluted bliss. He opens his eyes for a moment, gritting out, “well, well, prince, I didn't think you actually had it in you”

 Rowan lifts his head. “Just because I didn’t grow up as a bastard fucking my way up each alley doesn't mean I don’t know how to make you scream.”

 Lorcan had half a mind to turn around and pummel Whitethorn for his arrogance, but at that moment he pressed a hand to the center of Lorcan’s back, bending him at a more severe angle. “Hold still, will you.” 

 Rowan stretched, bending to the side, over to the edge of the pool, swiping for the glass bottle still perched there. Lorcan felt his breath hitch, knowing what would come next. Rowan tipped the bottle over, allowing the oil a quick succession of drip drip drips down his seam that he could feel gliding all the way to his sack, giving him an overwhelming tingling sensation that made his cock twitch.

 Rowan dragged his thumb over the path of oil, spreading it around his entrance. Then he used his first finger to press lightly against Lorcan’s ass. He felt his muscles clench involuntarily before relaxing again, the tip of Rowan's finger pushing in at that exact moment. It turns out the prince did know what he was doing. He glided his finger in and out, deeper with each pass, until he added another finger, and another. Lorcan was moaning openly now, lost in the eddy of sensation deep in his gut, rocking his hips back slightly to take full advantage of the rhythm Rowan had set. Each sliding press of Rowan’s crooked fingers met that spot just inside him, and Lorcan didn't even realize his right hand had raised off the floor to stroke himself before Rowan had batted it away.

“I don't need your help” he growled, and Lorcan let out another groan.

 The words had somehow brought the reality of the situation into startling focus. He was bent double for a man whom, while he outranked him in birthright, he had authority to command in battle. When he had walked into this chamber and made this brash decision to provoke the prince, to see what he would do, he had not imagined that he would find himself on the receiving end. He was brought back to the present when he could sense that Rowan was shifting again, bringing his knees in between Lorcan’s own, forcing him to spread his legs a little wider. Then he felt Rowan remove his fingers at last, only to glide them down his balls, gathering the oil that had dribbled there.

 Lorcan heard the unmistakable sounds of Rowan stroking his cock in a few hurried tugs, slicking his shaft before pressing his head against Lorcan’s ass. With one hand spreading his cheeks again, Rowan slowly slid in, and they both released a low groan of satisfaction. Once he was in, Rowan removed his hand, letting the rest of him slide in, then resting for an agonizingly long moment, letting Lorcan adjust. Lorcan felt that stretch, the fullness that he hadn't felt in some time. He was ready to feel that weight move inside him.

“Rowan-”, he snarled through parted lips, but before he could say more, the prince pulled back, inching out of him before slamming home once more.

 Rowan placed his hands on Lorcan’s hips, and quickly set a brutal pace, simultaneously thrusting his hips forward while pulling Lorcan's ass backwards toward him. Each thrust made a resounding smack, echoing off the stone walls. He could feel Rowan's balls smack into him each time, only heightening the rising roar in his blood. Before Lorcan could take much more, Rowan bent over, pulling him up so that their chests were pressed together, using one arm to hook around both of Lorcan’s elbows, immobilizing him.

 Lorcan looked down to watch his cock bobbing, dripping precum, as Rowan renewed his fast pace, only to see Rowan finally using that other hand to still it; wrapping his fingers around his shaft to begin pumping. Lorcan’s head fell back, slave to the twin sensations dragging him under, one from the pressure deep inside him and the other from the unforgiving grip of the prince’s fist around his cock.

 Rowan’s mouth was back at his ear. “I want you to fucking come for me” those words alone made Lorcan's breathing increase, his panting ratcheting up to new heights. Rowan increased the pace of his hand, his thrusts maintaining that quick and brutal rhythm. It was enough.

 Lorcan felt his balls drawing up, and with a shout, his body gave way to wave after wave of bliss. The muscles of his ass contracting rhythmically around that fullness inside him. He could hear Rowan’s groans increase in intensity until he too let out a rough low snarl and Lorcan could feel each blast of his release inside him.

 Rowan released the arm that was holding Lorcan up and he feel back down to hands and knees, Whitethorn leaning over him. He slowly pulled out and sank back on his heels. When Lorcan pivoted to face the prince he saw that he had his eyes shut, running his hands over his face and hair. After a moment of regaining control over their breathing, they both stood up.

 Lorcan felt a mischievous grin tugging at his lips, tilting his head to one side. “next time you need a distraction prince, it will be my turn. And I am going to fuck the shit out of you”.

 Without another word, Rowan shoved Lorcan back into the pool and walked out through the arched doorway.

#This is so much longer than I originally intended #be kind its my first time #lolol #oh man im like 9 years old #anyway #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #rowcan #tog #tog smut

[babeimagineus]

The now broken friendship-M

Justin and you are really good friends but when you finally encourage him to break the friendship boundary and have sex, his feelings are revealed.

TAGS:smut,sad,heartbreak,NORMAL/jbxNORMAL/reader. enjoy

“Are you sure you’re ok?” 

Justin chuckles at your fucked expression. You had been working all week. You were literally a walking zombie. 

You nod, “Yeah.” 

We were all sprawled out around the living room. Kendall, Khail and Hailey all into Fifty shades darker to even notice your lifeless self. You were seated in the far left of the couch, while Justin was in between you and Khail. Kendall and Hailey seated on the white rug, snacking on their caramel popcorn. Every sunday the group would meet up at one of your guy’s houses, unluckily this week was yours. 

“You should go get some rest.” 

Justin whispers lowly in your ear, narrowing his attention away from the movie for a moment. Justin was worried about you. He knew how much you worked but this week you had to work extra hours because of stupid Becky who had to take the week off due to a ‘sore throat.’ You agreed with Justin and decide to put yourself out of misery. 

“Guys i’m not feeling so well. I’m going to bed early.” 

They nod in understanding, already knowing something was up. You fumble your way to your room, quickly changing out of your jeans and into a pair of sweatpants. You groan lowly, feeling your comfy sheets and blanket cuddle your weak body. You roll onto your side. You really needed to get some rest. I mean you hadn’t gotten any sleep over the whole week. Your body was aching dead, feet about to fall off. The amount of stress was too much. You were torturing yourself, just to earn a couple more dollars. You lived by yourself, the apartment needed to be paid every week. You groan as you realise you hadn’t paid this week’s or last weeks. 

Justin surprising helped you pay off your rent over the month. I mean he insisted he help even though you told him off many times before. You  hated owing people. He was just ‘extra’ nice to me as people like to put it. Even today, he came super early, remembering his presence made me smile. You were grateful to say the least. He came with a bag of popcorn in one hand, the other with your favourite pizzas. 

He just came from taking a shower, his hair freshly damp, straight and blonde. The cologne he wore was musky, almost inviting you. The white t-shirt he wore looked so good on him, large but perfectly showing off his structured frame, his tatted arms and tan skin. His silver bracelet hung perfectly on his wrist, how could a human being look so effortlessly good? 

You suck in a tight breath as you make your way to think about his fingers. You imagined how they would feel touch your skin. His hands were large and structured. You loved holding them sometimes, but little did he know you wanted them to do more. You imagined how amazing they would feel against rubbing against your heat. Your lower stomach tingled as you thought about all the dirty things they could do, all the dirty things they could make you say. You moan breathlessly and you lower a hand into your sweatpants. You touch yourself over your thin panties, you were surprisingly wet already. Wow you thought, you really needed some action. You hadn’t had any over the last couple months. 

You began you fondle with your sensitive bud, moaning in appreciation as the feeling made you feel alive. Wanting more, you quickly insert a single finger in, a loud yelp escaping your lips. It had felt better than you had expected. You slowly began to pace your finger in your heart. You close your eyes shut, loving the feeling of just one finger in your heart. You raise your hips off the bed, the pumping increased. 

You were never the vocal type but today was different. Your loud moan startled the ones in the room. Luckily Kendall, Hailey and Khail left after the movie was done, leaving Justin to clean up.

He heard your throught the walls. He was surprised to hear you yelp but courteously took the best of him and he decided to check up on you make sure you weren’t yelping for help or anything. 

As soon has he arrived to your door, your room was dark, but the lights out the hallway was dim enough for him to make out what you were doing. Your hair was messed, your eyes shut, lips harshly taken between your teeth. Your face was enough to make him let go at that very moment. But the fact your hand was taken under singlet, groping your bare breast or the fact your hips were rising up, he already knew what was happening under those sheets. He stood there in complete shock, his eyes not being able to tear away from you. You were a sight to see. This was something he did not want to miss out. Even though he knew this was wrong, he stood there and watched. 

You were so fucking sexy, it took him everything not to take your hand out of your pants and let him finish the job. But right now he wanted to see you bring yourself to your own high. Your mouth opened in a ‘o’ shape letting out panting little breaths. He listened as you moan last time, before letting go. He took in your every move, the way you clench your eyes tighter and they way you would pant while letting out high pitched noises.

After your orgasm, Justin decides to let you know his he was present. 

“Y/N” He coughs out, walking slowly towards you. 

He sits down on the side bed. 

“Were you lonely Y/N?” 

You eye him widely, not being able to believe he was there while you were fingering yourself. 

“I-m So- How long were you-” 

“Aw, my baby. Do you want me to take care of you?” 

Justin stands up, ripping off your sheets, revealing your risen tank top and halfway down sweatpants. You choke on your words as what was about to happen. Before you could say anything, he quickly touches between your legs, just to test the temperature. 

“So god damn wet Y/N.” He groans lowly at the damp feeling. Your hips lift up on its own, desperately wanting his fingers. He watches your every move, the way you would stare with wide eyes at his fingers. He grins mentally at the thought, he wanted to see you cum because of him.

“Please. I want your fingers.” You whine, desperate for a high again. 

“So greedy Y/N, didnt you just cum baby?” 

You narrow his eyes at him, starting to get annoyed. You reach down to rub yourself faster, hating snail pace his fingers were rubbing over the thin cloth. He snatches your wrist out of your wrap. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

You look at his face. He smirks back at you, despite scolding you. 

Out of hunger, you quickly flip your body, forcing justin’s under yours. You straddle him, supporting yourself with your knees, you pull your tank off your body, revealing your bare upper body. Justin stares in hunger, loving the sight in front of him, wanting to appreciate it, he gently smooths over your exposed skin, rubbing against your waist. 

“Can we just hurry? I really need you Justin.” 

Justin looks a little disappointed, wanting to take his time on you, to pleasure you properly. 

“Yeah.” He mumbles softly as he stops touching and lets you do the rest. You harshly yank your sweatpants off in a hurry but they get stuck in the process, being fumbled at your knees. You quickly lay down, despite sitting on top of justin’s thighs. 

“Can you pull them off?” You split you legs straight as justin pulls you at the ankle bit and slips them completely off. He chucks them onto the ground. Now his eyes are in front of your core, only being slightly covered from your flimsy panties. He licked his lips, wanting to devour you right now. Beside agreeing to let you do the work and fuck you now, Justin could help but have a taste of you first. He holds your waist and plops you onto the bed sheet, your hair covering your eyes a little at the sudden movement.

This is was a strange position you thought. Your head was suppose lay on your pillow but at this thought you laugh lightly at how funny you two looked right now. 

“What is it?”

Justin instantly notices your little giggles. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight below him. You were so breathlessly beautiful, he wanted nothing but to take a fucking picture and stick it up on his wall as creepy as the sounded. He grins before leaning down with supporting arms and pecks your soft lips. 

“You’re so cute Y/N.” 

“Enough with compliments. Make me feel good please?” 

You didn’t want to hear those ‘compliments’ anymore, justin would always make little compliments here and there but you never took them seriously, thinking he was just naturally flirty, which he was. 

“C’mon take your pants off already.” 

You try to tug his pants down, reaching down but before you could, he slips off his t-shirt. He half smirked at your eagerness before going down and narrowing to place his face between your legs.You watch as he kisses you through your panties. You groan out, reaching down to his light soft locks, pulling him closer to your heat. Justin gets out of your grip. You whine at the lost contact. 

He pulls the flimsy fabric off you legs and dives straight in, not wasting anymore time. He couldn’t wait any longer at the awaiting sight before his eyes. He groans at the taste. You were so sweet and delicate. He sucks gently on your sensitive bud, the action making your eyes roll back. You push your hips towards his mouth, wanting him to move faster. He ignores the signs and takes his time, enjoying the very moment. 

You let out heavy breathes, the wait nearly killing you alive. He grips the back of your thighs gently, spreading your legs apart and moves his mouth gently against your heat. You tasted like fucking honey and Justin never wanted to let it go. 

“So, so good.” 

He mumbles against your heat, appreciating you once again. You continue to ride against his face, he doesn’t mind this action as he doesn’t hold you down, his grip not tightening. The vibrations of his mouth sending you off. The pit in your stomach tightens. 

“I’m nearly there.” 

“C’mon baby. Cum for me.” 

Justin encourages you. The nickname slightly causing you startle but before you could speak, your orgasm washes over. You feel him smile against your heat. He lets you recover for a moment, maybe a little too long. You support myself with your elbows, glancing down at Justin, wondering what the fuck he was doing. He promised to fuck you, please don’t tell me that he changed his mind. He sat there, slumped back, head against your bedframe. Was this already over. You glance down to his pants, seeing him obviously hard and ready for you. You crawl over to him, palming him through his pants. He chokes on his spit. 

“Wait.” 

You eye him suspiciously. 

“Do you not want to have sex anymore?” You question him. 

You were confused to as why he wouldn’t want to get off. 

“Do you want me to blow you instead?” You offer him another way out instead, just because you didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

He doesn’t reply for a moment. You grab his face and playfully kiss his cheek, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“I think I should go.” He gently pushes you off him, grabbing his shirt off the floor. Before he could walk out the door, you tug lightly on his arm. He stands there with his bare back facing you. 

“Don’t leave. Have I done something wrong?” 

You sit down the bed waiting for his answer. 

“No.” 

“Then what is it? I can’t seem to figure you out. First you’re happy, now you’re so down. You can tell me Justin. I’m your friend.” 

“A friend?” He scoffs at this comment. 

You gasp at his reaction. Of course you guys were friends. 

“Is this what a friend is? Do you offer blows to your other ‘friends.’” 

His voice was dripping with venom with every word. You gasp in horror to what he was implying. 

“What’s that suppose to mean?” 

“Doesn’t matter anymore. You got off, I can go now right?” 

Well, yeah. No. He did help you get off but his current attitude was bugging you now. 

“What are you acting this way? I don’t understand you anymore.” 

You began to get angry at the situation. 

You raise your voice a bit more, “tell me what’s going on!” 

He pauses for a moment, silence taking over you two. You tug his arm a bit more. He snaps back. He spins and harshly slamming you back onto the bed. 

“You wanna fuck huh?” 

You widen your eyes at his sudden actions. Before you could get a word out, Justin yanks his sweats and boxers in one go and slams his stiff length into you, causing you to let out a loud yelp at the feeling. Justin doesn’t seem to care as he looks down to where you two are joined. He holds you still with one hand, the other gripping your leg above his shoulder. He slams into you whole, feeling him hit the spot you never knew you had. 

The pleasure was so sudden and it hit you as fast a train. Justin’s pace never slowed down, he continues at an inhuman pace.

 A few minutes later, you feel the pit rising again, feeling your orgasm approach again. You clench around him. He finally lets out a loud growl. He feels his high approaching faster than he thought as well. He tugs his head into the crook of your neck, smelling your sweet scent of your hair. He would miss this so fucking much. 

He knew that after this there would be no way he’d be able to hide his feelings for you anymore. He fucking loved you, it tore him apart that this was the last time you’ll ever see each other again. 

“Y/N” 

He whispers between pants. You hear this but ignore it, too focused on your orgasm to answer him. 

“I’m there” you let out before letting your second orgasm go. 

He feels stupid tears approach his eyes. He fucking hated you at this point. He wanted to tell you. He didn’t know how. 

You see his heavy breathing, looking as if he was struggling to let go, you encourage him a little further, little did you know he was struggling to hold back his tears. 

“Justin,” you moan out his name, knowing it would do the trick. 

“Fucking hell,” He growls. 

He steadies his hands beside the side of your head, your faces facing directly across each there. You see the water in his eyes. He stares deathly at you as he lets go into you, feeling him fill you up. You didn’t notice anything strange. He pulls out of you but keeps his position, letting his eyes desperately focus on the face. 

“Hey” 

You say softly hopefully to comfort what ever was going on. You were blind the what was happening. 

Before you could thank him for tonight, he crushes his lips harshly onto yours in a passionate kiss. You desperately struggle to keep up with his pace. You pull away, wanting to laugh at him for this. Before you could open your eyes, you feel wet drops of water on your cheeks. You open them to find Justin’s watery red eyes staring back at you. 

“I love you Y/N” He whispers in a croaky voice, his voice unstable, breaking any second. 

You push him away. 

“Justin? Are you ok? Stop joking with me, this is not funny.” 

“I’m fucking sorry Y/N.” 

You feel horror and sadness coming to rush over you. You knew he wasn’t joking. This was the last straw for both of you. You didn’t feel the same. 

#justin bieber imagines #justin bieber mature imagine #justin bieber smut #justin bieber #justin bieber fanfiction