#V would say something dumb like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 3 months

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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said.

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside.

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat:

Don’t do this, girl.

Another message.

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record.

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with.

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong.

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies.

You needed better friends.

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy.

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera.

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it.

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid?

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears.

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them.

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends.

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling.

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out.

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again.

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back.

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach.

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you.

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out.

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine.

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut.

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you.

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?”

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?”

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin.

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,”

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin.

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure.

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands.

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,”

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,”

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,”

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards.

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that.

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need.

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer.

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,”

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands?

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder.

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,”

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in.

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you.

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt.

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips.

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock.

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt.

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,”

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it.

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs.

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth.

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face.

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it.

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down.

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another.

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment.

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?”

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,”

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there.

Or rather, when you get there.

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature.

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long.

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb.

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,”

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,”

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,”

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom.

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh.

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go.

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had.

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt.

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again.

“Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do.

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss.

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips.

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark.

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms.

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now.

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.”

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna fanfiction

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sturnsdoll · 15 days

Text

𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙 -`♡´- - c.s & t.y x reader

inspired by THIS

pairing: chris x tara x reader.

summary: two of your bestfriends stay over after a party. your friend tara's flirting quickly escalates the night into something much less innocent than a little sleepover.

warnings: smut, threesome, face sitting, dom!chris, switch!tara, sub!reader, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f & m recieving), praise, overstimulation, fingering, no protection (it's fiction. don't be dumb.), probably forgot some sorry!

authors note: omg y'all been on my ass to finish writing thiss <3 i did write and edit this while sleepy so (i really hope not) BUT if there's mistakes or lack of detail i'm really sorry!

"pink" = reader speaking "purple" = tara speaking "orange" = chris speaking

the time on your phone read 3:04am.

with a sigh you searched your surroundings impatiently. you'd been stood outside on the lawn of this stupid giant house for 4 minutes too long. the dampness on you from light raindroplets coming down just made the experience all the more unpleasent.

the mansion behind you was a mututal friends. inside, music blared so loud that it was seeping out through the windows. despite the absaloutely absurd hour of the night it was still bustling with people inside. sometimes in LA it felt like the parties just never died out. to be fair though, the number had signifincantly decreased from the start of the night when there must have been at least 100 people on the property.

"hey, sorry! i got caught up in yappin while trying to say goodbye to people" tara's familiar voice instantly made your tense shoulders drop. you turned to face her with a smile "it's alright. seen chris around yet?" your eyes scanned behind her to see if he was coming even though you didn't expect him to be. and he wasn't. "maybe we should text him?" tara suggested as she also looked behind her, as if it would make him appear faster. you pulled out your phone to send him a message.

3:07. they were both told to meet out here at 3:00. 7 minutes still wasn't terribly late.

tara's voice took you from your screen "we've been out here freezing, loser" you stop typing your text message to look up at whoever she was talking too. you were met with the sight of chris holding his jacket over his head to block from the rain falling down on him. "my bad, i got lost in the house.." he admitted as he got right up to the two of you and held his jacket out a little further to invite you both beneath it's shelter. "but i already called the uber so it should be here soon." he said re-assuringly. you both stepped beneath the coverage of his jacket. it didn't completely block the rain but it was something.

tara was staying over tonight because the two of you almost always stay at one anothers after parties. chris however, was coming along because neither matt or nick wanted to come to the party so you had taken him here, as well as offered to take him home the next day. he could have just ubered home tonight but, you and tara insisted that he come over to hang out after. what was he gonna do? say no to a fun innocent little sleepover with his friends??

the three of you walked in unison in order to keep your place under the shelter of chris' jacket. the whole way off the property the music faded and tara's heels clicking mixed with the rain's intensity picking up became all that was heard.

the close proximity of the three of you should have been uncomfortable but you had absaloutely no issue being this close to tara and chris- probably because they were both very outgoing and touchy people so they were comfortable as well, giggling the whole way down the lawn about who knows what. the smell of rain and chris' dior cologne filled your senses up the whole walk until finally, you all made it to the sidewalk and the uber was right there across the street.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the ride home, you had all sat in the back together. you sat in the middle, head on chris's shoulder and one leg swung over tara's lap as you and tara yapped away almost the entire time. this wasn't weird because tara, you and chris were all naturally touchy people. and the alcohol hadn't completely left yours or taras systems quite yet.

opening your front door now, you instantly removed the heels that had been abusing your feet for hours. "i'm gonna get comfy clothes, you two can make yourselves comfortable" you told your friends as you locked your door securely. "could i borrow a shirt or something?" tara questioned with a sweet pleading smile as she slid off her heels and coat. "of course! come on" you enthused, leading her toward your laundry room since you hadn't had time to put any of your clothes away earlier before the party.

chris watched as you lead tara away. he had already made himself at home on your couch. he had been here before so it didn't take him long to figure out the tv remote either.

tara eventually picked out a t-shirt of yours to wear. you had chosen a matching tank and shorts pj set. as you were sliding your shorts on under your dress, you caught sight of tara sliding her dress down her shoulders. slowly her tits peaked over her dress, little by little till they were completely exposed.

you were in awe of how perfect they sat. how pretty. you were so mesmerized that you didn't even realize she had completely removed her dress and caught your hungry gaze. a typical tara giggle escaped her, snapping you out of your haze.

your eyes shot up to hers and you look petrified. "i'm so sorr-" "no no, it's okay" you could tell by the smile on her face that she was genuine. she slid your shirt over her head, covering her body back up again. "you want help unzipping your dress?" she asked. you were still so stuck on what had just happened that the question caught you off gaurd. why not though? god knows it'd be a nightmare to unzip it yourself. so, you nodded with an embarassed "sure".

tara made her way behind you, she stepped just a little closer than necessary and her painted fingernails found your zipper to slide it down. you could feel her breath on your neck, making your spine shiver. she slowly slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting your dress fall down near your stomach.

she came right behind you, head on your shoulder. she looked down at your chest VERY obviously observing you with her gaze. "gorgeous" she complimented, her mischevious smile contradicting her sweet and casual tone. she gave a quick kiss to your shoulder before abruptly leaving the room to go find chris like it was nothing.

you stood completely dumbfounded. you and tara were extremely close but that was weird, right? after a couple minutes of collecting your thoughts, you chalked it up to her flirty personality just being fed a little too much liquid courage tonight.

after getting your clothes on you made your way to the living room where chris and tara were talking away. they were sitting surprisingly close but, spacial awarness wasn't always tara's specialty. chris didn't seem to mind.

"heyy me and chris are deciding what we want to eat, what do you want?" she questioned excitedly with uber eats already open on her phone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you all had made your decisions on food as well as a movie and you instructed that everyone watched it in your room to be more comfy so here the three of you were now..

chris laid with his back against your headboard while you and tara sat next to him on either side. chris and tara were talking over the movie that was nearly over now. waterbottles and empty fast food containers filled the space on your side table. you and tara had completely sobered up about an hour ago after having had some food.

"right? like wear what you want i guess but like WOW i just.." you had no clue what chris was talking about and you didn't care, as your eyes fixated on the tv screen you drowned out your two friends voices. reaching into your bedside tables drawer, you removed a vanilla chapstick sorry spacecamp to fix the dryness that earliers alcohol had cursed you with.

the scent of it was super strong. chris had subconciously switched his attention from what he was saying to your lips as the scent you were applying filled his nose and senses. he watched as you drug it across your perfect, round and now smooth, lips. he realized he was staring and quickly looked away. now that his attention had been drawn to you, he realized that you hadn't really talked to him or tara much for the past hour.

"what is that? cake or some shit?" he said, more so as a reason to include you in conversation than out of actual curiousity. you went to put the cap back on the vanilla lipbalm "can i try?" tara asked before you could even answer chris. you went to hand her the tube but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently "why waste it when we could share?" she asked. you were confused for a second until a playful glint in her eyes told you what she meant.

so earlier she was flirting? you thought to yourself. your expression mirrored hers with a smirk as you casually responded "of course you can try it". she begins to move forward so you do too. the both of you are leaning over chris when your lips connect in a gentle peck. chris has no idea how to react. his lips are parted, eyes glossy with a growing desire as he watches his two friends infront of him.

your lips hover one anothers for a moment but nobodies pulling away so you connect mouths again. this time there's a passion, lust, to the kiss. your the first to add tongue and tara's more than welcoming about it, her tongue fighting back against yours for dominance. you lean into the kiss more and with that same surge of confidence, you make a split second decision to "accidentally" steady yourself by pressing your hand ontop of the blanket.. right over where chris' dick is located.

an unexpectful grunt slips his lips. you pull back from tara just a little to gage chris's reaction. he doesn't seem to mind but for your own good-concious you need to make sure. "this okay?" you ask as your palm gently starts rubbing onto the tent in the blanket. he nods confirmingly, a quiet "yeah" before his lips eagerly meet yours. tara backs up just slightly so she can adjust herself to place a kiss below chris's jaw. his hand rests onto her knee and he rubs his thumb lightly as a show of approval.

with that, she opens her mouth and begins lightly nipping at his neck. tara takes his hand that's on her knee and grabs it to guide it toward you, silently telling him to give you the attention instead right now. chris smirks into the kiss but you don't know why until his hand goes to toy the waist band of your shorts, making you flinch a little at the cold touch of his fingertips.

tara's lips leave chris's neck. she shuffling around the bed so you try to pull away to see what she's doing. chris's hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you back onto his lips. that doesn't last long though because next thing you know, tara's grabbing your shoulders to pull you to lay down on your back, head toward the end of the bed. your legs naturally go on either side of chris. he's still seated with his back against the headboard.

"you wanna make me feel good babe?" the tone of tara's voice makes your stomach flutter. you respond by nodding eagerly. tara giggles mischeviously in response as she stands to remove her black lace panties. chris eyes catch onto her. both of you watch as she bends over to slide them off, momentarily revealing her glistening pussy.

his attentions pulls away when you subconciously buck your hips up for attention. chris' long fingers slide into the waistband of your shorts to slide them off your legs. you allow him, lifting your hips to help. now you lift your head to watch what chris is up to. you feel tara's weight consume the bed next to your head but keep your eyes trained on the man between your legs. chris tosses your shorts aside before his hands find your thighs. painstakingly slow, his palms run up and down them, always close but never quite touching your aching cunt.

you begin to get impatient "chris. pl-" you're cut off by tara lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back down against the bed. "shh. let him take his time honey" as she speaks she raises herself over your face, thighs now on either sides of your head. you open your mouth to argue but instead you're silenced by tara's folds pressing onto your lips.

well, you for sure weren't gonna argue with that. you forget about chris for now, wanting tara's taste in your mouth. your tongue darts out to experimentaly flick at her clit once before you completely dive in to suck on her needy bud.

tara whines from the lack of build up. she looks down at you admirably as your tongue works her "so good honey." she praises you. it hasn't even been a minute and your pussy drunk, you wanna make her keep telling you how good your doing, wanna pull more pretty noises. you're so completely consumed with her that you hadn't even noticed chris pulled your panties to the side until his fingers unexpectedly ran through your folds.

"so fucking soaked." chris states, admiring your soaked cunt. "yeah? you like being buried in me that much?" tara teases, staring down at you. to answer her, your tongue slips into her hole, nose stimulating her clit now. "orr she just wants to be touched, hm?" chris says with slight competitivness, his pointer finger just barely grazes over your clit. you buck your hips toward him for more but he uses his free arm to hold your waist to the bed.

tara scoffs, rolling her eyes even though neither of you can see it. "yeah sure" she mutters quietly in response to chris. he catches it though, "i'd watch your tone" chris warns her. before tara can respond, he thrusts his middle and ring fingers into you, elicting a moan. the vibrations of your moan travel straight into taras cunt, making her whine loudly.

chris watches with satisfaction at having affected both of you at the same time. although his cock is throbbing, he's more than happy to watch the sight infront of him and continue to toy and play with you. or both of you. his fingers are as deep as they go when he curls them upwards. you cry out, grabbing tara's hand with one of yours and her thigh with your other.

your tongue is still fucking her closer and closer to the edge. everytime chris forces out all your pretty little noises, they go straight into tara's cunt again and again.

her thighs begin suffocating the sides of your head. you don't mind at all. she rocks her cunt right into your face, whines spilling out of her. "i'm close" she voices, her thighs beginning to shake. "not yet, get off of her" chris demands. tara turns her head as far as it goes to look back at chris. "excuse me?" she questions him . chris's fingers pull out of you. you try to complain but it's muffled. they continue the conversation without you. "you're not cumming yet." he tells her. tara looks... offended? baffeled? she opens her mouth to complain but chris rolls his eyes and raises to his knee's so he can grab taras hips, lifting her off you.

you immedietly sit up, confused. tara's juices coat your chin and chris motions for you to come to him. "what. the. fuck?" you finally complain, looking between the two of them. "what she said" tara chimes in. chris turns tara to face him and lays back. he looks at tara then nods toward his lap. the sour look leaves her face and she smirks knowingly as she straddles his hips, already working at his belt.

chris's attention switches to you. "you wanna feel good again? hm?" he asks you with a slightly cocky smile. you nod. "cm'ere" he lures you over to sit on his face. while tara unbuttons and removes chris' pants.. you nervously place your thighs on either side of your friends face.

his middle and ring fingers return back to your aching hole to tease you again. he can sense your nervousness to lower yourself onto his mouth. "cm'on let me taste you" chris says, telling not asking as he looks up at you. you're looking anywhere but him. he groans frustratedly and decides to take matters into his own hands. he uses his free arm to wrap it around your thigh and pull you right down to his tongue. he wastes no time flicking the tip of his tongue up and down your clit rapidly. as if that wasn't enough, his fingers fill you right back up. you almost jump at the unsuspected and sudden pleasure. you push your cunt further onto his mouth for more. you look down to see his blue lustful gaze staring right back up at you while he smirks into your sopping cunt. you clench around his fingers just at the sight.

meanwhile, tara's teasingly pulling his boxers toward his thighs.

tara wants nothing more than to ride him like he had implied however, tara figured someone might as well return the favour that he's giving to you right now. she leans down and her hand wraps around his base at the same time her lips enclose his tip.

a whiny moan slips chris lips that makes tara amusedly giggle around his cock, causing him to let another noise slip. both of these go right to your clit. you grip chris' hair for support and in return he curls his fingers right up into your g-spot.

you throw your head back and begin attempting to rock your hips into chris' face. the arm that's around your thigh holds you still though and he begins curling his fingers the same way over and over, again and again. you whine and moan as your body tries again and again to rock against his grip on you. chris lips wrap around your clit now, nipping and sucking. your stomach twists with pleasure, you know what's coming if he keeps this up.

tara's mouth slides down his length, taking him in almost completetely. chris's teeth bite down on your clit in reaction. it's not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to shock you and almost tip you right over the edge.

chris releases your clit with a pop. his voice is shakier than he anticipated. "y-you wanna cum baby?" your friend asks as he looks up at you, your juices on his face with pussy drunk eyes. "mm- mhm" is all you manage. he gently slaps your thigh, making you whine. "lemme hear you say it" his fingers continue to curl into you.

"i w-wanna cum chris mm please" you beg him desperately as you clench around his fingers. there's a few seconds of silence that makes tears fill the corner of your eyes. "good girl. g-go ahead" he struggled to speak as the pleasure tara's tongue gave him was almost too much.

the 'good girl' was more than enough for you. you practically fold over, you would have if your headboard wasn't there to grab onto. your legs shake and your walls squeeze his fingers, your orgasm is already coming over you but then on top of it chris adds his mouth back to the mix, latching it back to your clit. "chris!" his name comes out high pitched. stars cloud your vision as you coat his fingers completely.

tara's mouth release's chris' cock. the bed shifts for a couple seconds and before he can process it, the warm walls of her cunt envelope him, sinking all the way to his pubic bone. chris moans into you again but this time it feels like too much. you tried to lift your hips off of him but he only pulls your pretty pussy right back to him. his fingers leave you but his tongue flattens against your hole, licking a long stripe from there till your clit.

"fuck chris!""fuck!" you and tara both whine out. your pleasure's from the overstimulation, hers from the way his cock hits all the right spots when she rocks on it. his dick twitching inside of her at the sound of both your pretty cries. when tara begins a steady and fast pace, chris couldn't help but subconciously try and fuck up into her. she leans back, her hands on his thighs to steady herself as her rythym became faster. both chris and tara let out noises. hers whiny and desperate, his lower and less often.

you couldn't hear either of them over the ringing in your ears from every muscle in your body shaking. because of your last orgasm, you were still very sensitive. this time all it took was chris's mouth sucking on your clit for and you were almost there again.

tara was finding friction for her clit from rocking it into chris' pelvis everytime her hips moved. her mouth was slack and she was hardly even moaning anymore. heavy breaths coming as her chest heaved. "fuck- i'm so close" tara mutters mostly to herself. you took a hand off the headboard to reach behind you, your hand reaching out behind you and she takes the hint, grabbing it. you both squeezed one anothers hands for support.

you guys weren't the only one's close. chris's dick was twitching inside your bestfriend and his hips start to stutter.

tara pushes her hips down harder onto her friend and the feeling was enough for the coil in her stomach to release. she cried out breathlessly and at the same time, your thighs squeeze chris's head as you dig your nails into tara's hand. your mind goes completely blank.

you remove yourself from chris's face, completely overstimulated. tara leaves his cock at the same time, red and leaking precum. chris looked at tara confused.. until she looks at you, then back to him.

you didn't notice this, you were sat next to chris, chest heaving while you catch your breath. "think you can take one more, babe?" tara speaks up but her voice is strained and raspy from all the gorgeous noises she had emitted just moments ago.

you looked at chris who was already looking at you. he looked pretty, sweat causing a few of his brown strands to cling to his forehead. despite looking a little fucked out, he still had an eagerness to him probably because he hadn't cum yet.

he got up into a seated position and reached out, hand going into your hair to pull you into him. his lips collided with yours feverishly whilst tara's fingertips teasingly graze his tip. he instantly swatted her hand away. she let him because they both knew he had other plans.

chris turned you around, positioning you on your knee's infront of him. your back pressed against his chest.

he used his knee's to seperate yours, shuffling them apart. tara came infront of you, on her knee's as well. she attatched her lips with yours while chris was positioning himself. your arm came around the back of her neck and the other reached behind you to go to the back of chris's neck as well.

chris brushes his tip against your clit. you instantly jerked your hips away from his from the overstimulating feeling. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back. you whine but he shushes you. "jus one more, yeah?" he assured right before his cock entered you, filling you up completely.

your lips left tara's to let out what was practically a scream. "shh honey" enphasizing her words, tara's hand clasps over your mouth. she lowered her head level to your tits before taking a nipple into her mouth. this makes you whine again, then again when chris's tip abuses your cervix without warning.

you're already so sensitive from his tongue and fingers just moments ago, his cock feels like too much but so good at the same time. "so good for us" chris praises before slamming into you again, making you scream into tara's hand. her other hand lands a light slap to your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk. you don't go far against chris' firm hold on you. "mm- g- cmm" even with taras hand shutting you up, they both know what you're saying.

chris mouth is now right next to your ear "not yet. you're gonna cum with me" he mutters to you. you shake your head, not thinking you're gonna last. "either you can fuckin wait for me or- fuck- or i'll make you take a fourth o-one" he threatens you. you shake your head in momentary panic. there's no way you're gonna cum for a fourth after this but if he makes you wait much longer to cum you aren't gonna have a choice but to finish before he allows you to.

tara continues to swirl her tongue around your nipple fiercly and as if you weren't already fucked dumb, her middle finger makes sudden contact with your clit, rubbing fast circles.

now you know that they're both just trying to fucking ruin you.

now you speak nonsense into her hand, making her smirk with amusement. "what's wrong honey, too much?" tara asks you with a faux-sympathetic pout. you aggresively nod your head. responding for tara, chris pulls you impossibly tighter against him, hips slamming harder into you. you yell into her hand and both of them smirk. "want us to stop?" she says teasingly, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure. you instantly shake your head no.

her fingers still toy your clit and chris's pace slowly starts to falter. you can feel his breath on your neck becoming un-even. tara circles your sensitive bundle of nerves faster and you're sure your gonna be cumming before you're allowed.

luckily for you, the way chris holds your body tighter and his forehead drops to your shoulder says otherwise. "you gonna cum with me?" his voice is all low fucked out and it makes your walls squeeze him harder than ever. you nod, unable to speak for more than one reason. "go on then" he encourages along with a harsh slam of his hips. the second "go" left his lips your vision went white.

the next thing you were aware of was about 20 seconds after when his seed was spilling up into you to coat your walls. his forehead rested on your shoulder while he praised you on how good you were for him. "did so well" he said before gently kissing your shoulder while tara's fingers left your clit at the same time chris pulled out of you.

chris reached down next to your bed to retrieve everyones clothing for them. you had two bathrooms so you and tara headed off to one for a shower. chris to the other bathroom for the same reason.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you all returned to your room after, clean and in new clean clothes. (lucky for chris, nick hangs out here often and you love to steal his shit to wear for comfort.)

chris had entered just as you finished making your bed with fresh sheets. "better not have been fucking in there without me" chris joked as he made himself comfortable laying on your bed. you and tara both simultaniously rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. you both joined him on the bed to lie down.

you were in the middle of them. chris spooned you and you spooned tara, cuddling one another comfortbly way past awkwardness at this point. chris rubbed a relaxing hand up and down your side and you played with your other friends hair relaxingly. you should know better though, comfortable silence doesn't exist with chris around...

"guess what?"

you audibly sighed. "what?" tara and you groaned knowingly in unison.

there's a little grin on his face that neither of you can see, but nonetheless you both sense the ridiculousness. "i saw both your boobies" he says in a childish sing-song tone.

"oh my god" "are you fucking kidding me?"

i really hope y'all enjoyed. ᥫ᭡

tags: @daddyslilchickenfingers @fratbrochrisgf @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniccc

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #tara yummy smut #sturnsdoll #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfic #tara yummy #tara yummy fanfic #tara yummy x reader #sturniolo smut

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gutsby · 1 month

Text

Benign

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.

Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.

You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.

Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.

The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.

But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.

After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.

You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.

Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.

But Steve would.

Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.

You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.

He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”

You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.

Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.

He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.

“Gentle?” he mumbled.

“Rough,” you countered.

“Baby—”

“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”

Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.

“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”

You turned onto your side.

“You still don’t remember what happened?”

The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.

“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.

“This Winter Soldier—”

“He isn’t me.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”

Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.

“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.

Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.

At last, you made up your mind.

You would try something new—and really, really stupid:

“Zhelaniye.”

“What?”

Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.

“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”

He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Wait—”

You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.

“Baby, baby, stop—”

“—pech, devyat—”

You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.

“Don’t—”

“—adin—”

No time at all.

“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”

Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.

“—dobroserdechniy—”

‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.

Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.

It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.

Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.

Faintly, you said:

“Soldat.”

The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.

“...Bucky?”

The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.

“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.

The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.

“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.

You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.

Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.

The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.

Or try to, anyway.

Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.

You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.

“James—”

“Zhena.”

The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.

To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.

Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.

“Zhena,” he repeated.

You blinked.

“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

Bucky stared at the ring for what could’ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.

Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.

“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.

Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.

You whimpered. Bucky groaned.

Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.

You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.

Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—

“Stop!” you cried.

A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.

Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.

“Honey?”

You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.

Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.

The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.

Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.

A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.

But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.

Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?

“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.

You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.

Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.

And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.

“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.

You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.

When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.

You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.

Again, he nodded.

“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.

He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.

He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.

“Bucky?”

The man looked up at you and blinked.

“Yeah, honey?”

One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.

The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.

It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.

Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.

“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.

But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.

All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.

Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.

You wanted that part to change.

With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.

Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.

Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.

Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.

His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing—”

“My baby okay?”

He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.

You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.

Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.

“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.

You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.

You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.

Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.

When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.

His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.

“No, let me—”

“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.

Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.

His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.

“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”

He sounded irritated again.

Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.

It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.

“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.

The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.

Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.

You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.

This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.

The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.

But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.

Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:

“Bucky.”

The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:

“Bucky.”

He blinked.

And slowed.

“Bucky,” he mumbled back.

Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.

“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.

The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.

“Years,” he answered.

“Years?”

Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?

No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.

You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.

Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.

You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.

It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.

For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.

“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”

“Since what?”

The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.

“Close now?” he muttered.

Ignoring the question you’d asked.

“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.

Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.

What you saw made your stomach drop.

Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.

Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.

He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.

“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.

The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.

“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.

The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.

Pleading.

“I can’t lose you again.”

The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’

You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.

You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.

Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.

You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.

You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.

Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.

You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.

“James?” you mumbled into his hair.

Bucky didn’t respond.

You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.

Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.

He didn’t.

It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.

At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.

Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.

“Baby, it’s just—”

Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.

The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—

You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:

“Stay.”

Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.

But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.

And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.

Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.

You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.

“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.

If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.

But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.

If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.

Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.

You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.

SOS

Need help

Pick up please

Bucky’s stuck and he’s

About to hurt people here

A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.

“Bucky!”

Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.

You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.

The line went dead. You tried again.

Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.

The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:

“STEVE!”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.

You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:

“This is Mrs. Barnes?”

“Yes,” you answered woodenly.

You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.

“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”

The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.

“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”

No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.

You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.

“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”

“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.

The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.

“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”

“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”

Another pause.

“Prenatals.”

You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.

“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes—I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”

Three weeks along.

Advised prenatal vitamins.

For the child growing inside of you.

A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.

Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.

You hung up.

—

Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs

1K notes · View notes

gyusrose · 5 months

Note

OMGG yk that one trend on tik tok where the girl shows her nails the caption being “look at my new nails” and she’s rubbing it on the bfs bulge can u do that with enhypen legal line?? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense😭

love this req !!!!! i tried my best though hope you like it !

⚠︎ very suggestive ;) semi- smut?

✎ what the req. says

enhypen legal line x fem. reader

Heeseung -> you were seeing this trend going on in TikTok and you couldn’t help but want to try it out on your boyfriend. you just had your nails done yesterday as well so it was the perfect timing. you explained to heeseung what you wanted to do earning a howl from him.

“ you’re so horny i swear. “

you smacked your lips pushing his shoulder lightly.

“not true! i just want to try this trend !”

“mhm yea sure, as if you don’t know that this will end up in fucking. “

nevertheless he agreed to it.

he laid down on his back while you positioned your hand on top of his clothed dick before pressing play.

as your other hand was filming you slightly squeezed him through his sweatpants. heeseung groaned and hissed as you kept on rubbing slightly on him while you pretended to show your nails. he was an impatient man, the video that was barely 15 seconds long felt like 15 minutes, all he wanted was to bend you over the bed and fuck you like the tease you are.

“shit are you almost done?” he desperately asked.

“wait, just like 5 more seconds..” heeseung threw his head back, annoyed. he knew you were deleting some clips and redoing them.

“alrighty it’s done.” as soon as the video ended he pulled your waist towards him and grabbed your jaw.

“you’re gonna learn to not tease me like that ever again.”

Sunghoon -> “look babe i just got my nails done.” you said showing him your pink and white flower designs on them.

to be completely honest, you only did it to do that funny trend you saw a few days ago. it’s just something dumb and humorous you wanted to do sunghoon wouldn’t mind it.

sunghoon thought about it for a minute. he wanted to act as if nothing but holy fuck, he was already getting hard at the thought of it. the whole idea of being recorded turns him on too much for his liking. eventually he agreed to it and laid down in bed.

you on the other hand had no idea how turned on he is, even though you’re touching him sexually, it was just a joke to you, just a TikTok. that would explain how surprised you were when you rubbed his visible bulge and felt him hard as a rock.

“holy shit..” you whispered to yourself, you tried to keep your composure as you were filming but how could you when your man was literally yearning for your touch.

sunghoon tried to hold back his moans but failed miserably. he wanted your mouth so bad. your soft touches that come and go did so much to him.

“fuck stop the video.” he said giving up, grabbing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers.

“suck it like you know how to.”

Jay -> “so you just want to touch my dick is basically what you’re saying?” jay had such a way with words. of course that’s what you meant but you can’t just agree like that.

“i see so many people doing it and i’m bored.” jay raised an eyebrow at your response. he knew you like the back of his hand. you were horny duh.

“sure go ahead and do your ‘tiktok’ “ he chuckled as he laid in bed, waiting for you to start the video.

he smirked down at you as you innocently rubbed on his dick while you stroked up and down on it. showing your red nails to the camera yet the last thing on both of y’all’s minds was the nails.

jay wanted to also tease you. he lifted up his shirt slightly, showing his v-line. your panties were damp. in less than 30 seconds, jay has managed to almost make you cum on yourself.

jay kept calm throughout the whole video ( even though he was dying to fuck your mouth ) and just chuckled at how the simple outline of his cock made you go crazy.

“fuck it.”

you threw your phone somewhere and unbuckled his belt pulling his jeans down. left in his boxers he grabbed you chin, forcing you to look at him.

“i fucking knew it.”

Jake -> you were just sitting down in your living room at peace, when all of a sudden you hear footsteps coming from upstairs, jake came up to you while showing his phone screen with a huge grin on his face. oh god, you knew that look.

“look at this trend going on right now, it’s so hot.” he was always up to date with all the trends and stuff so you weren’t surprised, but when you saw the video, your eyes almost popped out. you were expecting a silly little dance he wanted to do with you but no. this man wanted you to grope him for a TikTok video. you couldn’t help but laugh at his request, you weren’t complaining though.

“jake seriously?”

“yes seriously, come on it’ll be fun, plus my face won’t be showing, just my dick. also you just got your nails done as well, don’t you want to show them off?” in other words, he was horny.

so there you were, rubbing on him as you squeezed his already aroused cock. you tried to go at it softly (since that was the whole point of the TikTok ) but jake didn’t want that as he bucked his hips cowards wanting to feel more, moaning from the lack of movement.

“i thought this was just got a TikTok, why are you getting so worked up jakey?” you teased. fuck how much he loved that.

from his white shirt which was almost transparent, you could see his glistening abs tighten from his heavy breaths. now you were the one getting worked up.

“just save the video and come here.” he said pulling you into a kiss.

Sunoo -> “you want to r-record it?” you nodded eagerly. you adored seeing sunoo hot and bothered, so what a great idea was this ? plus the nails you had on were actually expensive so what better way to show them off than next to your boyfriend’s dick?

sunoo blushed at your words. the action itself turned him on so bad but now that you want to make a video with it did something to him. he was nervous for sure but excited as well? there was nothing in the world he loved more than your hands, especially since they look so cute right now, so why not?

sunoo was already breathing heavily before you even pressed start. your hand simply being on top of his crotch already drove him crazy.

as you started rubbing him and squeezing him through his pants, he became a whiny mess. he stopped himself from moving his hips too much for the video but at that moment he wanted to fuck into your hand like he always does.

“aww is my precious little baby frustrated ? be patient i’m almost done.” the video was clearly longer than it should’ve been but you just loved seeing him trying to hold back seeing his dick twitch.

“please just- just touch me please ..”

Jungwon -> he was waiting for you to come up to him and ask him if you could do the infamous trend going around. obviously just as an excuse to have you on your knees.

“can we try it? pretty please? look my nails are even cute.” clearly you were very eager.

jungwon pretended to think for a moment as if he wasn’t dying to do it as well. “whatever you want princess.”

you took that literally. groping him from his base to the tip slowly then rubbing him while showing the camera your pretty nails .

“fuck those hands of yours.” he breathed out. you smirked loving how much power you have right now.

he was a quietly moaning into the pillow, on top of that, he was wearing grey sweatpants making it the scene even more sensual.

“ keep it together, just a few more seconds.” jungwon couldn’t even hide his desperation at this point. the way your small hands take him so good even soft touches and strokes like these drove him insane.

the sound of the video ending brought him back to reality. “and..done.”

“good, now finish what you’ve started.”

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s6ngbird · 4 months

Text

little doll — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆

♡‧₊ warnings — coryo being possessive, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), rough sex, lmk if i forget anything!

♡‧₊ pairing — coriolanus snow x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — wrote this for @etfrin bc me and her were obsessing over coryo (like always <3)

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

to coryo, you were an innocent little doll that he loved to play with and if anyone else tried to even lay a finger on you, he would make sure they were done for

you always took coryo to your house after school to help you with your homework or to study

coryo let you take him, you were so stupid that he knew if he didn't help you in any way he could, you would fail and have to drop out the academy and he didn't want to lose his pretty little doll

being dumb was the exact reason you never realized coryo had an unspoken claim on you, always keeping a hand on you and staring down everyone who tried to make conversation with you

this led to people starting to stop talking to you and you still didn't understand why it happened, but everyone else pitied you for being so dumb

you had asked coryo about it and he just brushed it off, giving you a kiss after which left you shocked since you never knew coryo had a romantic interest in you

but whether you liked it or not, one thing led to another and you ended up in your bed, naked with coryo under you as your eyelids became heavy and coryo stroked your hair, shushing you everytime you were about to say something

you got used to this, having sex everytime after you two finished studying. if you were good and could answer all the questions correctly, he would fuck you nicely, being gentle and praising you, but if you didn't want to study and were giving him a hard time or weren't answering any of the question right, he would fuck you hard, not letting you come or he would fuck your throat, not giving you any pleasure and leaving your house right after that

on this particular night, you had understood the concept, so coryo was gentle with you and let you come and stopped once you started feeling overstimulated

“coryo?” you ask after a while

“yeah doll?” he said, his eyes opening and continuing to stroke your hair

“why do people not talk to me? they always talk with you…what did i do?” you ask, your eyes looking filling with tears as a few threaten to spill

“oh sweetie shhh” coryo says, holding your head to his chest as you cried

you weren't used to people ignoring you since even though you were dumb, you were very social which made people love you

“it's nothing, they're not real friends…ok doll?” he said shushing you and you eventually find yourself asleep after coryo pulls the covers of you two and cuddles you, kissing your head from time to time

the next day, after you coryo go your separate ways, you go to clemensia to see why everyone was avoiding you

she gave you a hug, which confused you but you were grateful for

“it's because of coryo…he's threatened people if they get too close to you, he's really possessive over you, you know?” she replies after you two start walking to lunch together

this left you stunned, you would've never guessed that coryo had been pushing people away from you, but just as you were about to respond, coryo came out of nowhere and kissed you, putting an arm around you as he looked at you happily

“hi doll, hey clemmie” he said, giving clemensia a cold stare but that was all gone the minute you looked up

clemensia gave you a knowing look, saying goodbye to you and coryo as she left

“what was that about?” coryo said looking down at you

“nothing…let's go get lunch” you said not wanting to tell coryo what you found out but he could see it in your eyes

“hmmm i think we should go grab lunch and then go to an empty classroom and study…you have that test tomorrow anyway” coryo said grabbing his lunch, as you grabbed yours

“do we have to?” you asked, coryo knew how much you hated studying

“yes doll, you're never going to learn if you don't continue studying” he said, leading you to an empty classroom, letting you go in as he locks the door behind him

you sit down at the desk, starting to eat when coryo grabs you, pushing you on the table

“what the fuck did she tell you?” he hisses, his face close to your ear as he starts moving his hand up your skirt

“nothing coryo! why the fuck do you care?” you spat, trying to move

coryo didn't like that, you were being disobedient and one thing about coryo is that he only tolerates obedience and anything else gives him a reason to punish you

“why the fuck do i care? it's because your mine doll, no one is allowed to have you but me” he says, pulling off your skirt and ripping your panties

he laughs as you try to claw at his arms, your pussy is slick

“so pathetic doll, can't even tell me that you just want to get fucked hm?” he says, grabbing your arms and pinning them together to avoid you hitting him with your hands

you whimper, shaking your head as coryo shoves two finger in, finding your g-spot quite easily and repeatedly slamming his fingers in, leaving you a whimpering moaning mess

as he adds a third finger, which makes you moan loudly, he starts kissing you, sucking hickeys on your neck and shoulders

after coryo thinks you’re stretched out enough, he takes his fingers out, licking them clean before pulling down his pants, his cock painfully hard now at the thought of being in your warm cunt

without warning, he slams his cock into you, ramming the table into the wall as he fucks you hard, making sure that you got no pleasure from it

you kept whimpering, letting out broken moans and attempting to form coherent sentences but coryo just laughed at your attempts

“what’s wrong doll? too fucked out to even object?” he said, slamming into you with even more force and sucking hickeys all over your breasts

you kept babbling about how good his cock felt and letting out moans and coryo knew he had fucked you dumb already if you weren’t already stupid

coryo enjoyed this because he just wanted control over someone, which is something he had been deprived of his whole life until you came along

finally you stopped babbling, going quiet and that’s how coryo knew you were going to come, quickly pulling out before you could which left you a mess

you had tears running down your cheeks and you were whining, coryo had other plans though

“doll open your mouth” coryo said, pumping his shaft a few times before cumming on your face, some of it landing in your mouth

you still felt like crying, you had a good build up but coryo pulled out before you got to finally have the knot snap

coryo notices and laughs, getting dressed again while you just lay there, catching your breath

“next time, don’t go asking people to tell you things that i’ve already told you ok?” he says, kissing your forehead and leaving the classroom

#🎀 — fics #tom blyth #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #young coriolanus snow

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snowsinterlude · 4 months

Text

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

#coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas smut #coriolanus smut #yandere #obslove #obsessive love #x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #young coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x you #x reader

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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

Text

Restless Dreams

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream

word count: 3.6k

a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.

“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”

You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.

It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted.

Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.

“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.

“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”

“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.

A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.

“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser.

He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.

“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”

“I better,” you grumble with a smile.

“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”

“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.

“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.

“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.

“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.

The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.

Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.

Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.

And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.

Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.

Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.

You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.

Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.

He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.

It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.

He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.

His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.

He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.

Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”

But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.

He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.

At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.

You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.

It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.

“Please.”

He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture.

You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.

In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.

More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.

Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.

The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.

“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.

“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.

“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.

“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.

You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.

You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.

“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.

You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.

You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.

“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.

The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.

“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.

His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.

“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.

“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”

Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.

“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.

He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.

“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.

“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.

He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.

After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.

“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.

That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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pandoraslxna · 5 months

Text

Too close to the sun

adult Ao’nung x female metkayina reader x adult Neteyam

Words: 10.6k

Summary: Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, ooc Neteyam, biting, p in v, oral, toxic behavior, jealousy, possessive behavior, best friends with benefits, fake dating, angst, one sided love, double penetration, anal

Adult Neteyam / Ao‘nung art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵

Notes: I was aiming for porn and it got emotional my bad

Translation:

Tsawke = sun

Sevin = pretty

Paskalin = honey

"Everyone knows the story of Icarus, who Daedalus warned not to fly too near to the sea, nor too close to the sun.

Have caution, they are saying, because when they tell you this story they are Daedalus.

Have caution, I am saying, because when I tell you this story, you are Ikarus and I am the sun."

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao’nung wasn’t always in love with you. And there’s nothing he wishes more, than for the time to come back where he wasn’t. That time, before that dumb arrangement.

It was a double edged sword.

It wasn't so much a friends with benefits arrangement as it was a assured destruction. Because Ao’nung hadn’t known what he was agreeing to.

“Nungy, would you do me a favour?”

 You see, spending every possible second with you has taught Ao’nung to be cautious, to pick up on those minuscule changes in your voice, in your eyes. And the way you called him by this silly little nickname made goosebumps break out over his skin, because whenever you blinked up at him with those big doe eyes and that innocent little smile and then called him nungy, he knew that there was something that you wanted and he also knew that there was no way he could ever deny you.

 “I’ll do you one too,” you promised, tilting your head, a mischievous smile tugging on the corner of your lips. Oh, you little…

 “…alright. What do you want now, hm?”

 Looking back, Ao’nung realizes that this was his first mistake. His next mistake was not getting up and running when you grinned at him like he was some prey that just walked into your trap. His biggest mistake, however, was not saying no when you proposed this strange arrangement.

"Please pretend that you… that you want me. That there’s something between us. Just for a while nungy, please. Maybe that would make him jealous, would make him realize that he wants me too."

 Or maybe he made the first mistake long before that. Maybe his biggest mistake was to befriend that little girl he made fun of, twenty years ago. Or maybe it was making fun of you in the first place. Maybe he should’ve never picked on you, should’ve never made you cry, maybe he should’ve never went to you and apologize, because he has never apologized to anyone else ever before. Maybe he shouldn’t have blushed like an idiot when you accepted his apology, swung your little arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, told him it was okay. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve never made the girl cry that then accepted his apology so unconditionally that Ao’nung swore he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again, because you were the first person to accept him as he is, that could see through his façade and saw something good. Something worth to be loved.

He hadn’t known that he was agreeing to losing himself and becoming inseparable from you. Or maybe he had, he’d already known he needed you like his lungs needed air to breathe when it was just friendship between the two of you. He just hadn’t counted on how much his own helplessness to the whole situation would drive him crazy. How it would only be a matter of time before you sunk beneath his bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce that he would question if he had ever truly been in love before you came along.

But your love was directed to someone else.

Every single nerve-ending burned with the desire to haul a fist over and slam it into his face. It was on the verge of painful just to hold his muscles tightly still whenever he was around. If he did anything to this piece of shit, Ao’nung knew he would be the one to get punished for it.

Neteyam. He’s the one his tsawke was so head over heels for. The omatikaya prince that grew roots on his island a couple of years ago when his family sought otulu within his clan.

Ao’nung knew you had your eyes on him ever since you took part in training him for his second iknimaya with the metkayina. But he didn’t deserve your kindness. Neteyam didn’t deserve any of the things you did for him, the things you still do. Not with the way he had that filthy grin on his face when his eyes roamed your body. Not with the way he acted all innocent and kind in front of others, but his true nature made Ao’nung scrunch his nose in disgust.

Neteyam just wasn’t a good guy. Sure, he had this special talent in making others believe that he was, but he certainly wasn’t.

You’ve spent years trying to get his attention with courting gifts, fleeting touches and seductive words. But while Neteyam seemingly tried to leave his filthy fingertips on every women in the village, he barely paid you any mind. Just enough though, once in a while, to keep you wanting him, keep you on edge. Like this was all just a fun little game to him.

But what shocked Ao’nung most was, that you knew. You knew that he was a flirt, knew that he slept around, knew that he was playing with you, kept your hopes up for years on end but never returned any of these feelings or kind gestures to you and yet you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It made his blood boil, because how could a smart little thing like you be so blind, so dumb to fall for him, of all people?

Truth be told, Ao’nung wasn’t even sure if part of the reason he agreed to any of this was that he was hoping it would work. Ao’nung was hoping this would get Neteyam jealous, he was hoping this would hurt him as much as it hurt you to find him flirting with another woman yet again, to find him wearing the bracelet you made while his hand was buried between another woman’s thighs. Yes, Ao’nung hoped it would hurt him. Even if he was hurting himself on the way.

But by eywa, could hurting himself feel any better?

The first time he gave in to you was intense. It left you with a noticeable, unplaceable stiffness in your walk the next morning, but aching to have him again. Ao’nung found himself unable to lean his weight fully against anything for three days, his muscles sore, feeling thicker than usual. There were gouges from your nails in his back, bruises from his hands on your body, marks from his teeth everywhere they could possibly cover. Marks that were normally meant for no one to see, yet you displayed them like they were art, meant to be noticed, to be seen.

"Louder, tsawke. Let him hear you."

He doesn’t know what drives him more insane. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second. Or the knowledge that you were doing this only now that he had mentioned him. Not that it actually mattered.

A wet rhythmic smack of flesh against flesh filled the air in your marui. Ao’nungs hands were at your hips in a tight grasp, your cheek shoved against the ground, ass high in the air as he pounded into you.

"Let him hear how good I’m making you feel", he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Moan my name."

Selfish, yes.

But you just sound so sweet when you gasp his name like that, with that whiny tone in your voice that’s halfway muffled into the sheets, little punched out moans garnishing the whole thing before his cock started throbbing inside you.

He made sure Neteyam heard every little noise you made, every moan, every whimper and every filthy squelch of his cock drilling into your wet heat. Ao’nung made sure he heard all of it. You were his, he let himself believe. Even if it was just for now, just for this.

"Ao’nung!" The name rolled off your tongue as a whimper, a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at the bite marks that he only recently put there.

Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these bites and hickeys, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.

These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off. But they had short lifespans, often only a few days, a week if he was lucky. And this gave him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.

Your entire body was an available canvas for these markings and he took great advantage of this.

Ao’nung liked having the ability to move them and create new ones as the old faded and disappeared. He liked having the opportunity to accept and receive his own markings when your old ones had once again retreated from sight.

They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Yesterday night’s memories were still pretty much livid in front of his minds eye as Ao’nung not so subtle failed to listen to his so called friends about whatever they were talking about.

Nothing they weren’t used to. It’s not like he had ever actively participated in a conversation that wasn’t about him, anyways. And it’s not like he cares much about what that says about him. Ao’nung knows these guys aren’t really his friends. At least not like you are. They’re more like his goons, brainless little minions that have been following him around and would listen to every one of his orders since the day they found out he will be the next olo’eyktan. He’s almost certain that they wouldn’t stick to him if it weren’t for this fact.

Gentle waves rock him back and forth on his tsurak, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the vast ocean, his spear-gun strapped to his back as they wait for the rest of the hunting party to join them.

Ao’nung doesn’t need a mirror to know that he must’ve looked like he was ready to commit a crime when some of the younger hunters were accompanied by the Sully brothers, and he wonders which of these skxawngs had invited them so he knew which of them to exile from any hunts for the next month or so.

Neteyam greets the others first as he approches, polite as ever, but there’s a knowing, dirty little grin reserved just for him as he turns in his direction to reach a hand out for him to shake, like they’re friends. Ao’nung fights the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at that.

Reaching their chosen spot, he then signals the other hunters to prepare their fishing spears and nets. Each of them take their position, their eyes keenly scanning the water's surface for any sign of movement, while some others submerge into the deeper water.

However, Ao’nungs own eyes are unfocused. He has a hard time concentrating on anything other than that insufferable forest boy swimming only mere inches away from him. Like letting his five fingered freak of a brother participate wasn’t already enough of an insult to his warriors pride. No, now there were two of these demon spawns here with him. He knew Neteyam wasn’t even doing anything particular annoying, yet it felt like he was taunting him with every breath he took.

It was as if he could sense his thoughts, because a shadow suddenly casts over the spot Ao’nung had aimed his spear to, making it impossible for him to see through the waters surface. Looking up, Ao‘nung is then met with a pair of golden eyes and sharp teeth grinning back at him.

Any complain about Neteyam blocking out the sun so the man would hopefully move and bother someone else dies on his tongue, the moment his gaze lands on the shiny pearl that’s dangling over his shoulder, tidily braided into a strand of ink-black hair.

Ao’nung would probably recognize this white pearl everywhere. He was with you the day you had found the shell, had watched you crave and polish it for hours. He had wordlessly sat besides you, pondering if you even realized that a similar pearl garnished his songcord as a reminder of the day he had met you. That he had once sat where you sat, spent hours working in concentration to crave the pearl from such a filigree shell that his hands were hurting for days, hoping you would return the gesture to him one day.

"Neat, huh?" The omatikaya smiles, but it’s not a genuine one, before he brushes through his braids and twirls the pearl between his fingertips. It makes Ao’nung snap out of his thoughts, and he’s quick to advert his gaze to the sun, secretly hoping it will burn his eyes so he would never have to look at it on him again.

He just hums, barely a coherent response. While he wants to agree, simply for the fact that you had made it, he would also rather die than compliment the demons son. And he knows Neteyam just want to force a reaction out of him, so he chose to end the conversation right here and wordlessly swims a little further, where he then aims his spear to the waters surface, targeting a fish with precision and—

"Almost as pretty as the little thing that made it for me." Neteyam squints his eyes at him as he chuckles, and this time his amusement is sincere. Aimed to hit a nerve.

With a swift motion, Ao'nung hurles his spear into the water, but it completely misses the shimmery fish that had caught his eyes.

He turns to glare at the man that’s practically begging to be the next target. His Tsurak growls, making the water around him vibrate as it feels the anger radiating off his rider through the bond.

"I didn’t mean to insult you", Neteyam laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. "You two are awfully close, no?"

With a sigh, he regains his composure, takes a deep breath and, afraid that whatever might come out of his mouth would only start something that wouldn’t do him good, simply choose to nod instead, his eyebrows still drawn together tightly. Neteyams grin still hasn’t vanished, yet he seems to mimic the way Ao’nungs spine had straightened, which in return made him feel like he was under interrogation.

"How come I still haven’t seen any courting gifts on her then? Whatever it is called that you have with her, is that some kind of arrangement or…?"

"Nothing that should concern you, forest boy", he cuts him off.

"Hmh, right." Neteyam nods and Ao’nung can’t help but pray to eywa that this would finally be the end of this uncomfortable conversation. Unfortunately, it is not, as the forest boy then swims a little closer, his voice low as he says, "Well, by the sound of the moans you knock out of her", a look comes over Neteyams face, and it sickens him to realize it was arousal. "I may have to try my hand at her sometime too, just to see what all the fuss is about. Seems like she loves to spread her thighs for just anyone."

Ao’nung balled his fists, and ground his teeth together so hard, he was almost certain he could hear a crack. It took every last ounce of energy not to lunge at him.

Neteyams words whispered over and over and over in his head, a rolling loop that he thought might actually drive him insane.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Never had left him a hunting trip so tense before, Ao’nung realized, sighing as he lowered himself into the water. It was warm and relaxing, soothing his tense muscles and the ache he felt.

He seemed to get like this a lot lately, feeling stressed and tense and trying harder than ever to will himself to sleep, to concentrate and to stop thinking about this. But it was impossible. Ao’nung found his mind going back to the same problem over and over again and he found worry and jealousy rising in the pit of his gut more and more.

It had been some time since his last visit to the hot springs in the center of the island, and at least the waters were soothing on his overworked body. Not to mention the way your hands were gently running over his shoulders, as you positioned yourself to straddle his lap.

The hot spring was large, a natural pool that sat surrounded by smooth stones, leaving the air here steamy and considerably warmer than the rest of the forest. A popular spot to bath for the metkayina, but tonight it was calm and empty.

Long, ropy vines hung low and mingled with purple leafy plants above him. Bountiful beds of marigold, azure, blazing red, and creamy orange blossoms lined the space that the pool inhabited. Small particles of pollen danced in the steam that rose to the sky. Blue-green moss coated the rocks where their surface was wet and slick from the humidity.

You had both stripped out of your clothes, long past being uncomfortable with each other's nudity. Your warm, soft breasts now pressed against his chest, thighs framing his waist and his body finally relaxes as he deeply inhales the swirling aromas of both, the hot spring, filled with oils and herbs, and also your sweet natural scent.

Ao’nung rests his back against a rock that had been weathered smooth, his hands gliding over the soft skin of your back, up and down, as you continue to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Through the upper canopy of the trees he could see night draw in and a soft rumble filled his chest as he pulled you closer.

"Still not going to talk to me about what happened today?"

Your playful voice is what makes him pry his eyes open and unfortunately return his mind to the moment and todays memories.

"Nothing happened today, tsawke. I already told you", he grumbles.

"You know I can tell when you’re lying", you push and Ao‘nung wants to roll his eyes, but he misses the strength to do so. Instead, he just buries his face into the crock of neck and makes a sound of annoyance. "And you’re never like this after a hunt. Normally, I can’t even get you to shut up about how you made the biggest catch and how you’re oh so much better than everyone else, how they’re all just a bunch of skxawngs and– ", you begin to mock him, but can’t finish the sentence as a teasing little giggle bursts out of you.

"That does not sound like me at all", he protests, yet can’t hide the lazy grin forming on his lips.

It’s moments like these that Ao’nung values most about your friendship. It feels so intimate and natural, the way you so playfully interact with him. How close you are, physically and mentally. You take care of each other, even if the ways in which you do, go beyond any normal friendship. It just feels so good to be in your presence, it makes him forget about the world around him for a while. Makes him forget why he was even so tense, what exactly had plagued his mind in the first place. There was just you now.

Ao’nung doesn’t even try to wipe the woozy smile from his face as he listens to your soft giggles and the joy it brings you to tease him, to know that you’re the only one allowed to do this and continue unharmed. Oh, how you loved to take advantage of the soft spot he had for you.

Your chest was still pressed firmly against his own, droplets of water running down your collarbone and collecting in a small puddle where your breasts are squished together. You wear your hair up in a bun, a few messy strands sticking to the sweaty skin of neck and forehead and Ao’nung thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.

Between soft laughs as you mimic his cocky way of presenting himself, he catches you off guard as he suddenly presses his lips against yours.

He knows there’s no reason to do this. You’re all alone out here, so there’s no point in trying to make someone jealous that wasn’t even there to witness it. But from time to time, both of you had sought the other out just to get some sort of relief, so this wasn’t really something new to either of you. This agreement had long become more than a means to make Neteyam jealous. Besides, if he had to pick something he would get out of this agreement, it was this. After all, you promised him a favor if he would agree.

Your lips are soft and your tongue tastes warm and sweet as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and cradling the back of your head to get better access. It doesn’t even take a heartbeat for you to relax into the kiss, exhaling a soft sigh as your arms encircle his neck and pull him closer.

The gentle sway of the water fuses you tighter together, and soon you’re rubbing and grinding against each others wet bodies. His hands are everywhere on you, pushing and pulling and kneading every inch of skin until your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting against his lips.

"Please", you whisper softly, and he feels your thighs squeeze around his middle. Your hands roam over the muscles of his chest, then down over his abs, between your bodies, until they reach the base of his cock. "Please, can you…"

"Can I what?", Ao’nung breathes against your lips. He plants open mouthed kisses from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your throat. "Talk to me, tsawke. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me", you say, and it’s so whiny it almost sounds like a complain. Meanwhile your hands begin to stroke and squeeze up and down the length of his cock. It makes him chuckle as he licks a wet stripe from your collarbone down to your breast, "But I am touching you."

You make a frustrated sort of noise and Ao’nung smiles, softly, fondly, and then he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple and tugs.

"Fu– Fuck, c-come…on", you pant, "You know what I mean! Just— please!"

His tongue traces from your breast back up to your throat, where he buries his face into your skin to inhale more of that natural sweet scent you release. Ao’nung let’s out a deep groan once you stroke him a little faster and it almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do with his own hands.

"Please, Ao’nung", you whine again, but what snaps him out of his aroused trance isn’t your pleading voice. It’s the sound of someone else approaching the hot spring with a low chuckle.

"It’s not nice to make a woman beg like this."

You inhale a sharp gasp, pressing yourself tighter against Ao’nungs chest in an attempt to shield your naked front from any unwanted viewers. His tattooed arms hold you close, encircled around your back and covering your skin as much as possible. With his eyebrows knit together, he glances over the top of your head to see who was stupid enough to interrupt his alone time with you.

"Oh, please don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."

Neteyam. Oh isn’t this just great, Ao’nung thinks to himself, grinding his teeth as he watches toruk maktos eldest step into his direct view.

There’s a sharp grin plastered on his entirely too perfect face. And this man dares to call himself a warrior? There’s not a hint of a scar on his skin, not one tattoo adorning his body that could tell of his victories, his hunts. He might as well be a nobody.

"What are you doing here?" The grip Ao’nung has on you is possessively tight and for a moments he thinks he’s the reason for your breath has stopped.

"Well, what do you think?", Neteyam chuckles and the golden color of his eyes seems to glint in the moonlight as they rake over your exposed back. "I came here to bath, just didn’t know this spot was already… occupied."

It’s a reasonable response. But not even close to a good enough reason for him to stay.

"You can leave then."

Neteyam did not seem to share the same thought.

"Hm, I don’t think I will. Besides, that gives us the chance to continue our nice conversation from earlier, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he watches him step closer to the hot spring. Briefly, he remembers that he had very clearly warned the brat to stay away from you this morning, even if it was through gritted teeth and words that were generally much nicer than the ones he would’ve preferred to use.

Neteyams hands were already working to untie the knot that held his loincloth together, before he paused for a moment. A quick glance to your face and Ao’nung was met with the sight of your widened eyes, lips slightly parted as you were obviously trying and failing to proceed what was even happening. Neteyam then pauses.

"Unless you…", with a tilt of his head his eyes meet yours, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips, "want me to leave?"

Taken aback, your breath hitches in your throat. There’s a look of uncertainty on your face, as if you were struggling to express what you wanted. If you even knew what you wanted, Ao’nung thought. Your eyes then skipped between both men for a moment, a blush spreading over your cheeks so deep, they were almost turning purple now.

Ao’nung feels his chest tighten as you glanced from Neteyam to him, and then back to Neteyam. For a moment he’s scared you would tell him to leave, now that what must’ve been a dream to you finally seemed to come true. But you don’t. You just say nothing.

"That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I do, right?" A soft rumble filled the man’s chest, almost a purr, as he untied his loincloth and then stepped into the water.

Your breathing had picked up rapidly, Ao’nung realized, feeling the way your chest pushed against his own as you inhaled quick, shallow pants of air. There’s a moment of very uncomfortable silence, made worse only by the tension that filled the air as Neteyam let out a content sigh after making himself comfortable, sitting with his back against a rock, arms sprawled out over the edge of the hot spring like he owned the place.

His abs tense just above the waters surface as he stifles a laugh, and he brushes a loose braid behind his ear while his eyes seem to be glued to yours.

"By the look on her face I assume you haven’t told her about our conversation from this morning?" He asks, his gaze moving for just a split second to look at him. You seem to follow his example and crane your neck up to look at him questioningly, your brows raised high.

Ao’nung can't think about what he's supposed to say now. If he thinks too much about it, he'll end up punching him in the face and it probably won't end there. It’s like Neteyam can read his mind, or maybe he’s just good at reading facial expressions, because he’s quick to give an answer to the confused look on your face before Ao’nung even has the chance to open his mouth.

"Sevin", Neteyam says and Ao’nung wants to vomit, "why don’t you turn and face me, hm? It’s rude not to look at the person that is talking to you, don’t you think?"

Ao’nungs arms tighten around you, so hard it’s like he’s afraid you‘ll float away if he won’t hold you close enough.

But then you whisper a soft, "It’s okay", and uncontrolled jealousy punched right at his gut as you wriggled yourself free.

It’s almost like he had forgotten for a moment that this was kinda part of the deal. That he’s not the one that’s supposed to be jealous. That if he were a good friend, he would’ve gotten up and left ten minutes ago, give the two of you some space, help you achieve the goal you’ve been working so hard for the past year or so.

Usually, Ao’nung could camouflage all and any feelings from anyone very well behind angry glares and scornful smiles. He was an impenetrable wall for those around him. Except for you, of course, who could normally read him like an open book. But now that your attention was entirely directed to someone else, you couldn’t even see the way a flash of hurt and jealousy came over his face for just a heartbeat.

Your hands trembled as he helped maneuver you to sit on his lap, facing Neteyam that sat opposite of you.

"That’s much better, isn’t it?" He grins and you give him a sheepish little nod, blushing even deeper as he purrs a whispered praise. Ao’nungs arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. He feels the soft of your bottom pressed against his crotch, and if it weren’t for the current situation, he would’ve loved nothing more than to slide into you and take you just like this. Unfortunately, the omatikaya sitting right in front him then continues to talk and sets every single nerve inside him on fire with the urge to get up and push his head under the waters surface until he stops mov—

"I meant what I said, by the way." He says and all of those murderous thoughts inside his head come to an halt. "There’s no need to stop doing what you’re doing just because I’m here."

He wants to laugh in the forest boy’s face, but decides to shove it back down and manages to keep his expression impassive.

"On the contrary. I‘m very content with watching." A seductive little wink is send your way and Ao’nungs whole body tenses. Neteyams gaze then lands on him and Ao’nung suddenly knows that he wants him to try something.

Ao’nung has a temper. He‘s always had a temper, everyone knows, and Neteyam is just trying to be provocative, Ao’nung tries to remind himself. But now his temper already flares, bright and white-hot, and he almost doesn't care about a response, doesn’t care about what he could answer to this as long as it hurts, so he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper.

It’s unfortunate for both of them, that Neteyam can’t seem to shut up, despite the fact that neither him nor you had said anything yet. He‘s confident in every word that leaves his mouth, not even caring about what the two of you would think of him as he goes on, "Oh, right, I almost forgot. Since your dear friend hasn’t told you yet, I guess it’s my duty to enlighten you."

One of his hands curls into a fist and he can't seem to relax it, before he realizes it’s your hip that he’s squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but he lingers for a long moment before he can force himself to loosen up. He apologizes with a fleeting kiss to your shoulder, making sure to hold eye contact with the man in front of him, like it’s two Pxazang‘s battling for territory.

"Ao’nung and I had a very nice conversation this morning, and he actually made the proposal to…", his lip curls into a dangerous smile, "share you."

Ao’nungs mind goes blank. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Share you? But he did not…

His mouth opens to object, but all words seem to fail him, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening, while he simultaneously tried to understand what Neteyam wanted to achieve with this lie.

"If that is something you would want, of course."

There it is again, that act of fake innocence, pretending to be oh, such a good and caring guy. It breaks his heart to see it working so well on you.

You glance up at him with those nantang puppy eyes full of hope and anticipation, "You… You did?"

But there’s silence and Ao’nung just looks at you. He listens once Neteyam opens his mouth again, he has to listen because his throat feels too dry to speak.

"Oh, yeah", he responds for him. A white lie, like everything else he had told you so far. "He told me how good of a friend you are and that this would be something you would truly enjoy. And I know for a fact that you really deserve this."

No. No, you don’t deserve this, don’t deserve him. And sharing you like this was never part of the deal, it wasn’t part of the agreement to take a part in any of this, to watch his filthy hands touch you. Ao’nung was never one to share his possessions– he never talked about his feelings, he just acted, knowing what he wanted and going for it. That was how he did everything; with quick deliberation leading to a fast resolve, quite the opposite of Neteyams tendency to manipulate.

"You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you? Letting your friend arrange this for you", Neteyam chuckles and Ao’nung realizes just now, how much you’re squirming on his lap. "Why don’t you show me just how sweet your are, hm sevin?"

He’s only playing a role, Ao’nung has to remind himself. As much as he prayed for it to become reality, you weren’t his. He was just your friend. But if being a good friend meant to participate in whatever this was, so be it. At least he could be here for you, take care of you even when you were in another man’s arms.

It was comforting, in a way. Comforting like rays of sun soaking into his skin, so much so, that he‘ll forget what damage they can do if he stays to long under her comfortable shine. He‘ll burn, sooner or later, feel the pain when it’s already too late. But it feels good now, so he tries to stop worrying about everything else.

The feeling of your slick rubbing against his thighs reached a point where it was impossible for him to ignore, even though it hurt to know he wasn’t the main reason for this.

His gaze never leaves its target sitting across from him, not even as he dips his hands below the waters surface and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. The surprised little squeak you emit was kind of cute, he thought, as he lifted you out of the hot spring.

Your soft hands cling to him as Ao’nung makes himself comfortable, sitting down onto the flat rocks that enclose the pool of water, while he holds yourself up and open for Neteyam to see. Your legs are spread as far as they can go, and said omatikaya can be seen swallowing the salvia that pools in his mouth at the sight.

You were a piece of art; gorgeous, pretty and wet, droplets of water running down your curves, mixing with arousal that ran down your thighs. But you were also pretentious, greedy, and entirely spoiled and that was entirely his fault. And he knew how to play that card all too well.

Ao’nung nuzzled his nose against your cheek, up to your ear where he whispered, "You want him? Then show him", before licking the shell of your ear, making you shudder in his hold.

Even he felt the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, before you wriggled a hand free and lowered it between your spread thighs. A fingertip slid between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance with a quiet whimper.

"Don’t be shy", Ao’nung murmured, nipping on your throat. "C‘mon, tsawke. Be a good girl and put a finger in."

Nodding, you pressed your index finger against your slippery entrance, slowly pushing in to the last knuckle. Then, you wriggle a second finger in beside the first one, and start to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push.

The moans that tumble from your parted lips are like the sweetest most familiar melody to him. To Neteyam, they are the reason one of his hands has disappeared below the surface, casting ripples in the water.

You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace, thrusting them faster. The squelching sounds they coax out from between your thighs filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of his own ragged breathing, his heart thumping against his chest in the same rhythm his cock throbbed heavily, yearning for friction, for your hands to touch him, your tight cunt to wrap around his length and swallow him whole.

"Just like that, you’re doing so good", Ao’nung coos softly against the shell of your ear, "Look how much he’s enjoying the show. See what you do to him?" He tips his chin up and your eyes flutter open to get a glance of Neteyam. His ears are pinned back, eyes half lidded, with lips slightly parted and chest heaving as he strokes himself under the water. Ao’nung has to swallow back his own pride in order to play this role, yet he enjoys being the one that can touch you so freely while all Neteyam can do is watch as it happens. "He wants to touch you so bad", he chuckles lowly into your ear and your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward to push your own fingers in deeper. "I bet he wants to know what you feel like, warm and wet around him. How tight you are. Fuck, if only he knew how good it feels whenever you come around my cock, the way you squeeze me. See his eyes? He’s hungry for you, tsawke. He wants to know how you taste like, too."

A helpless little whimper escapes you from his words and Ao’nung grins, the tip of his fangs sparking with mischief. "Should we make him watch, hm? Or do you want to invite him?"

"Nung", you mewl, plead with your eyes as you glance over your shoulder to meet his.

"I won’t do it for you", he whispers, tilting his head towards the other man with a sigh, "Use your words if you want him."

Your eyes follow his line of sight. Neteyam groans, then closes his eyes for a brief second and throws his head back in bliss, before he looks back at you with a dirty smile.

"What is it, hm?", Neteyam asks, "What do you want, paskalin?"

Your toes curl at the sound of his voice, raspy and laced with a certain type of hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing alone. And that thing is you. Breath hitching, you make a whiny little noise that almost sounds like a plea for the forest boy’s name, but that seems to be all you manage.

"Can’t get the words out, huh?", he chuckles, "That’s okay. Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy, doing all the talking for you. Look how she’s dripping, so eager to be filled, but your hands aren’t enough, are they? You need my help, pretty girl?"

Ao’nungs own fingers itch to help you out, to show him just how perfectly he can fill you with them. That there’s no need for this demons spawn here, that he’s the only one you need to satisfy you.

You seem to think otherwise, because you’re nodding quick and desperate, and Neteyam groans at the sight of your clenching hole once you had pulled your fingers out. A wordless inventions for him to take their place. So Ao’nung continues to hold your legs open wide as Neteyam pushes himself off the rocks and approaches slowly, gracefully walking through the waist deep water to stand before you.

With the way Ao’nung had hoisted you up and held you spread open as he sat on the flat rocks surrounding the hot spring, Neteyam didn’t even had to kneel or crouch to be eye level with what he craved most and the realization made him lick his lips in anticipation.

His hands find the soft of your thighs, caressing your skin before he placed soft kisses here and there, making you shiver in Ao’nungs hold. With his eyes entirely fixed on yours, Neteyam then runs the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and groans at the taste.

"Eywa, woman", he curses under his breath, then attaches his lips to where your slick oozes out in a clear, honey-like stream. "You’re so sweet, paskalin", it’s muffled against your cunt, before he withdraws and glances up at Ao’nung. "Does she always get this wet?"

You let out an impatient whimper and Ao’nung places a soothing kiss to your shoulder.

"For me?", he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous and he feels the goosebumps rise on your body. "Every single time, yes."

Neteyam grins. "Must be my lucky day then. Look how she’s dripping for me."

He takes his sweet time returning to you then, kissing and stroking everywhere but where you need him, but when he finally does, you gasp and moan as he nibbles at your clit, arches when he cups your ass and, with the soft sucking noises he makes, it felt he was drinking you in.

You moaned again, breathlessly, bonelessly, and your back arched away from Ao’nungs chest, or at least you tried to. Feeling so good, so stupidly happy, Neteyam then ran his tongue up and down your slit again and your moans turned into a wail.

He returned to lick and suck at your clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers, teasing and circling your clit, then gently prodding them at your entrance.

"Mnnh– Fuck, ah, please, please", you whimpered breathlessly, hips bucking helplessly to get his fingers to slip inside, your head falling fully back against Ao’nungs chest. "Neteyam, p-please!"

But Neteyam only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against your clit, groaning into you at the sound of his name from your lips, and pressing his face against your pussy like you actually taste of nectar or honey or any of those tooth rotting sweet fruit the Sullys enjoyed to eat.

Meanwhile, Ao’nung placed several open mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw, enough of an hint to make you turn your head and claim your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It was wet and filthy, just tongues and teeth as he devoured you, as Neteyam devoured your other set of lips.

You were moaning into the kiss, wanton and desperate, before finally, a set of fingers were pushed past your entrance and curled just right, while Neteyam kissed and sucked on your clit so passionately, Ao’nung felt the way your whole body tensed.

And then, then you were coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though it seemed you had no breath left in you. Shuddering and shuddering all through your body, shuddering between two hot bodies who worshipped you, who were holding you, staring at you like prey- beautiful, delicious prey, both of them so very hungry for you.

"Good girl", was murmured lowly into your ear, "Keep coming for us, c’mon let it all out. Let him taste how delicious you are."

Neteyams tongue continued to lap at your flowing arousal, groaning against your folds between filthy slurping noises. "Hmm, fuck. Is that all for me? So good, paskalin, you taste so good."

You kept your eyes closed and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through you, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, eywa bless them to whatever heaven existed, they were both still touching you, gently and slowly. Neteyam kissing you softly, Ao’nung nuzzling his face into the crock of your neck, sucking on your throat, until eventually your breathing slowed, and you swallowed, opening your eyes.

Immediately, you were met with two golden eyes, looking up at you from between your thighs.

"Neteyam", you pant, "m-more. I want more. Please."

"Oh, do you?", he chuckles as he rises to stand on his full height, towering over you. "You’re such a cute little thing, so needy." He tips your chin up with a finger, then tilts his head as he grins down at you. "Think you can take both of us?"

There’s the sound of an audible gulp and neither Neteyam nor Ao‘nung himself can stifle a chuckle at this. You squirm in his arms for that one, grinding down against his cock that’s been trapped between his stomach and your lower back, making him grunt.

"I‘ll take that as a yes", Neteyam smiles wickedly, exchanging a look with Ao‘nung. He then stepped just a little closer, truly sandwiching you between them both before he hooked an arm under your thigh so Ao’nung could trace his hand down your spine and dip it down lower. Goosebumps run up your neck as his hand kneads one of your ass cheeks and then slides between them. Ao’nung expertly locates your dripping entrance from behind, fingers swirling in your arousal, dipping inside for good measure and he hums lowly at the sound of your weak little moans.

You’re always wet, always wet for him, beautiful and perfect, eywa, the way you just fit, it's like you plug into everything, everything that makes him high, incoherent, hard.

"You want this?", Ao’nung whispers into your ear, his tongue teasing your lobe. You clench around his fingers and give him a quick, desperate nod, so eager to be filled. He grins at that. His fingers retreat, covered in arousal he lets them glide between your cheeks to feel for your puckered hole.

"You want me in here, hm?"

Your whiny whimper of "Yes, please!" is completely satisfying to his ears. Your lack of surprise makes Neteyam realize you’ve done this before, and that mental image is a delicious one. One finger then eases into your tight hole slowly, fluidly. Neteyam watches with hungry, half lidded eyes as Ao’nung spreads you open on one and then two of his thick fingers, watches how expertly you take him in as he spreads your legs a little further to give the other man more space to work with. More slick is running down your pretty cunt, like a silent plea for him to fill it.

It's not long, though, before you’re squirming, the position you’re in making it impossible to push back against his fingers but they both know you’re trying to. It’s also not long until your moans turn louder, back arching, and you make a sound of protest when Ao’nung finally pulls his fingers out and deems you as loose enough. His cock is so painfully hard, leaking more pre-cum than he thought was even possible. He had to get inside you now, had to have you because in the back of his mind there still lingered this thought that after this, it could’ve been the last time he would get to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you, ever again.

So he wraps an arm around you, the other hand securing your thigh, while both of Neteyams hands hold onto the underside of your knees to spread your legs for them.

"Together then", Neteyam grins and Ao’nung can’t help but glare at him over your shoulder. Not even this situation could change anything about the grudge he’s holding against that forest boy.

A quick glance down your front reveals the sight of Neteyam pushing the length of his cock between your slippery folds, lubing himself with your slick.

The tremor that passes through your body seems more intense than usual, once you feel Ao’nung get into position too.

"Breathe, tsawke", he says, the tip of his cock nudging against your backside. You nod, inhale, exhale, and then they both push into you slowly, spreading you apart. Another whimper tumbles from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut and Ao’nung places a tender kiss to your temple as he slides further in.

"Good girl, just relax for me", he coos, "you’re doing so good."

For a moment it's too much, you’re way too tight and he thinks your body just can't reach that far, but then Neteyam seems to be fully inside while he slowly pushes deeper with minimal resistance. Neteyam groans, his grip on your legs tightening as he feels Ao‘nung move into place alongside him. You’re stretching around them both like you were made for this, and then Ao’nung glances at the space between your legs where you’re all joined, and there isn't a slither of space.

"Fuuck, look at that", the forest boy pants, smiling almost proudly. He gives the first languid thrust that makes you mewl. "That feel good, hm? You like being stuffed full of us, don’t you sevin?"

A whiny "Y-Yes", comes as a response, followed by a string of incoherent pleas for them to finally move.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, paskalin", Ao’nung says, granting your wishes with slow thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he slides himself into you. Better adjusted now, your body welcomes him with every snap of his hips. Neteyam sets up a quicker rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot at just the right angle.

You flex your inner walls, squeezing his cock, until you feel him throb inside you with the change, moaning, and his gaze entirely fixed on where you are joined.

"Eywa, that little pussy is gripping me so tight. No wonder you kept her all to yourself. I wouldn’t share her with anyone, not even if she begged me to."

Their eyes meet for a second and Ao’nung’s breath is hot on your neck as he whispers, "you’re mine, aren’t you? He’s just lucky I can’t deny you any of your filthy wishes." Reaching to cup one of your breasts in his hands, he tweaks a nipple and earns a dirty little moan in response, your soft, velvety-like walls pulsating around their cocks.

"Oh f-fuck, make her do that again!"

Ao’nung was rubbing your nipples more roughly now, and your voice goes hoarse when Neteyam simultaneously thumbs at your throbbing clit. "Yeah, good girl", he praises you, thrusting into you faster, "so good, sevin. Shit, you feel so fucking good around me."

You’re close, Ao’nung can tell by the way you’re writhing, by the way your breath hitches when the tip of Neteyams cock brushes against your cervix, by the way your face twists with ecstasy when he fucks you harder, deeper.

He removes his hand from your nipple and slips it between your bodies, fingertips fighting for their place to rub against that swollen bundle of nerves alongside Neteyams, until your whole body is arching and your jaw drops.

"Nung", you moan like a prayer, "you’re– so big. M‘so full, gonna come!" It’s like you’re trying to finish him just with your words, and fuck, you might manage it if you carry on. His head falls to your shoulder and he presses his lips against your skin, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.

Words were entirely washed out of your system, your mind completely overtaken by the fullness of two cock sliding in and in and then all the way out just to slip back in, harder, tight body gripping and squeezing them.

It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for any of them to pull the right thread and help you to your release.

You’re right on the edge, right there.

The moment he breaks the kiss, Neteyam catches your lips in another, his tongue swirling around yours and a bitter part of Ao’nung hopes you still taste like him. If that is the case, Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind. His hips continue to snap hard against yours as he exchanges moans and spit through the kiss. It’s a filthy rhythm the both of them had set, various body fluids smearing between three tangled bodies.

Every time one thrusts in they brush over your pleasure spot, leaving you sobbing and writhing on their cocks, clutching on their arms so hard it hurts, chanting their names in between moans, hardly able to catch your breath.

"Let go, c‘mon I know you need it so bad", Ao’nung groans lowly into your ear, thrusting in just as the other man pulls out, which leaves you in a constant state of fullness, never empty for even a second. "Be a good girl and come for us."

It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. Your entire body tightens as you cry out their names, nails sinking so deep he’d be surprised if they haven’t drawn blood.

"There it is, pretty girl. Great mother, look at you creaming around my cock, gonna make me cum too", Neteyam groans, throwing his head back in bliss. He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath.

The little breath left in you was then stolen by a deep kiss, Ao’nung sucking on your tongue as he continued to pound into you, unable to think of anything else besides the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.

"Gonna cum inside you", he groans into the kiss, "Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— hngh– shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then comes with a grunt of your name.

Your legs were already shaking with the aftershocks of your own orgasms, twitching from overstimulation while Neteyam gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a low moan.

Ao‘nung wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him at this point, but he still kept the reassurance up anyway as they both gently lowered you back into the hot spring.

"Can't say that was a bad time, fish lips," Neteyam grinned, glancing at your relaxed face resting against Ao’nungs shoulder. Your eyes had fluttered closed a few minutes ago, as the metkayina man was carefully cleaning the sweat and other body fluids from your skin, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't get used to it." Ao’nung warns in a hushed whisper, "I doubt I'll share her again."

"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?"

"No. But I keep close tabs on what's mine," he counters, blue eyes cold as he watches the other man rearrange his loincloth.

Neteyams grin widens at this, and he shoots him a playful wink, "We‘ll see about that", before he leaves off to the village.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Ao‘nungs hammock might as well be carved from stone.

He hadn’t been able to get much, if not any sleep at all these past couple of days. Shifting restlessly, he’s forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open, but it’s not working. So he’s staring at the ceiling of his marui, at the woven walls, and out into the dark blue sky. It only makes his frustration worse. Days have gone by and now half the night has already passed, by the time he finally comes to terms with the fact that jealousy truly is an ugly emotion. But it somehow always reveals the truth. And it’s not like he didn’t already know the truth before. No, he knew.

He could joke about it all he wanted, whenever Tsireya made her teasing little comments about it. Could laugh it off and roll his eyes at his younger sister, tell her she’s just imagining things and that this is all just a means to get another man jealous. He’s just being a good friend. He turned these comments into jokes, because he‘s afraid to take anything seriously. Because if he takes things seriously, they matter. But it does matter. It matters so much, that it hurts now. Truth is, Ao’nung held his love for you so horrible discreet, that it was as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. And now he was bleeding out. Painful and slow and irreversible.

Sharing you was a bad idea. Probably the worst he’s ever had, there was no doubt in it.

Ao‘nung tosses and turns in his hammock, unable to rest for any moment longer as his thoughts dared to consume him whole. Willing his body to get up before the sun was even beginning to rise, he found solace in the rhythmic crashing of waves down at the beach.

Ao’nung wishes that he could just have some kind of treatment to fix this problem. If only the tsahìk could cut his chest open and take his heart out to make it stop. Maybe eywa would bless him with a new one, one that wasn’t stained and stabbed and torn apart. Maybe it would take away the sick, knife-twisting pain he felt in his chest whenever he did as much as look at you. But in its own way, it was a good kind of pain. Like a constant reminder of just how much he was in love with you. How good it felt to love you. It was good, except for how it made him feel sick whenever you laced your fingers up together and squeezed his hand as though Ao’nung was something precious, something to be loved, and once again he catches himself wishing that you might ever look at him in the ways that Ao’nung looks at you.

It pisses him off to be reminded that he's supposed to be good at keeping his head, at keeping his distance, at not letting his lies consume him, the way that they're doing now. The way that they've done since this whole thing started. That this is all just a game of play pretend and you’re not really his.

Besides everything else he's doing that's completely unhelpful to this dilemma, Ao’nung’s overlooking one crucial detail: how can he stop pretending, when this is probably the closest he'll ever get to actually being yours, to you being his? How can he stop pretending when he's already made you this stupid, shiny little bracelet, because it would scandalize Neteyam in the entire, to think that Ao’nung and you are so into each other that you’re trading what could be mistaken as a courting gifts. And because it's the closest thing that Ao’nung will ever get to actually giving you a courting gift. He just has to take what little gifts he can from the world, right? So he can’t end it. He can’t end this arrangement. Not yet.

"Become my mate."

A simple statement. A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. But he would never actually ask that, would never receive an answer to this that wouldn’t hurt him, so he might as well continue to live in this perfect world that he lets himself envision.

Ao’nung turns the bracelet in his hands, thumb swiping over the carefully polished pearls. One of them sort of looks like the color of your eyes, as much as a simple blue pearl can emulate the deep ocean blue of yours and the way they sparkle when you look at him. The whole thing doesn't really capture your essence, it just made him think about you, and that's why he picked it out. He would give it to you today, he thought. He knows you would wear it for him, and maybe the thought of you wearing this for him, wearing something that would always mark you as his would make it enough for a little while longer. Maybe one day he would get his ass up and just ask you, would ruin your friendship just for the teeny tiny chance of you not turning his offer down. Maybe you would be his, one day. Truly his.

It’s when the first rays of sun begin to shine over the ocean, that he’s greeted by the sight of his own, personal warm solace. Sometimes that shines brighter and warmer than the sun herself. His ears perk up at the sound of you calling his name, waving your arms at him and a smile tugs on his lips. Always up early, he thinks, rising to his feet.

"It worked!" You squeak happily, jumping into his arms and Ao’nung continues to smile at you, albeit a little confused. You break away from the hug first, jumping excitedly and pointing to a piece of jewelry dangling from your wrist. He stares at it blankly, each breath making his lungs feel like they were filled to the brim with shards of glass.

His palm closed tightly around the bracelet in his own hand, tight enough he could feel the little shells cutting into his palm.

He knew this would eventually happen.

He could feel it in the back of his mind, lingering like a muscle he's held tensed so long that he can no longer remember what it felt like to be otherwise.

What Ao’nung didn't expect was, that it would be this soon. He really thought he still had time. More time. More time with you, before he would loose you to another man. Time to change his fate, time to��

"It worked! Neteyam courted for me, look!"

Ao’nung felt something in him shatter, breaking to the point of no repair. Breaking so violently that he wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. He felt it burn his skin, his eyes, the inside of his chest. Felt it burn like the sun burns, like it would burn if he tried to touch it. Ao’nung felt himself melt away and burn, and that’s when he reminds himself of the reason for the nickname he had chosen for you.

Tsawke. Because you are his sun.

And nothing feels as good and hurts as much as loving the sun. Because as well as she can make you feel good, as fast she can burn you.

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cosmiiwrites · 2 months

Text

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers

.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (fem recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(

you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.

adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.

"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"

taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”

“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.

you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.

“deal.”

———————————————————————

thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.

you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.

he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…

adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”

it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.

suddenly, he sunk his long tongue into your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”

it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.

you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.

those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.

adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.

he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.

you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.

“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.

his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.

he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.

adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.

you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”

in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.

adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.

finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”

“always, just a little less now.”

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam hazbin #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #angel dust #hazbin lucifer #smut #dickmaster #hazbin hotel lute #sir pentious #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #adam x you #x reader

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that-sarcastic-writer · 6 months

Text

A Love Game II

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language

WC: 4.4k

A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.

Part I | Universe Masterlist

Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?

Absolutely.

Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.

You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him.

"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.

"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again."

You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both.

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak.

"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."

Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice.

"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?"

"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat.

I've never wanted to be ruined by someone.

I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing.

Until I met you.

The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand.

And fuck, did he understand.

His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed.

Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs.

"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?"

Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud.

"Use your words baby, I know you can."

You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand."

Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now.

"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go.

His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good.

"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon."

"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said.

You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course.

"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing.

"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock.

He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after.

"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.

The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants.

Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it.

"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again.

Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come.

He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was.

"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too."

This man was going to be the fucking death of you.

You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head.

"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you.

"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?"

Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it.

"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees.

Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it.

"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine.

"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip.

"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted.

"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you.

"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you."

Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all.

"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.

"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?"

"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist.

Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now.

"Like that?"

You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man.

"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears.

Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again."

"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely.

His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long.

"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl."

His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you.

"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?"

"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you.

"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder.

"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle.

"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.

You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance.

"You actually took your pants off today."

Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"

"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you.

"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips.

"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?"

"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"

"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to."

We'll get there when we have to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right?

An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move.

"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes.

"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest.

"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.

"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest.

"I'm good at something after all." He snorted.

You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face.

"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door.

You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone.

"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand.

When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss.

"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed.

"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?"

You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss.

"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here."

He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

"Daddy."

Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed.

"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not?

"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.

"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though.

"I'm going to be late, daddy."

"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all.

"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her.

He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet.

"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink.

"I do not! You do!"

"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?"

"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?"

Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded.

"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him.

When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips.

"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."

If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level.

"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?"

"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you.

"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?"

Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen?

“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”

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