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onlyswan · 7 months

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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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vivwritesfics · 8 months

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Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1

Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.

Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader

1.6K

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Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.

If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.

On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.

Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.

Singapore was hot, hot, hot.

As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.

The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.

Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.

As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.

It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.

Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.

When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.

But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.

Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).

After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.

By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?

Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.

"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."

Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.

By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.

Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.

"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Just tell me!"

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.

Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.

Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.

Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.

She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.

"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."

The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.

But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.

With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.

She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.

When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.

When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.

Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.

Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.

When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.

No, it was too much for him.

"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.

But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.

When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.

"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.

"What stopped you?"

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celine-song · 4 months

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A Bigger Splash (2015) dir. Luca Guadagnino

#a bigger splash #tilda swinton #dakota johnson #filmedit #tusersonya #userrobin #cinemapix #cinematicsource #dailyflicks #filmgifs #fyeahmovies #moviegifs #userfilm #useroptional #*

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m4ritos · 4 months

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☆ pornstar choso! ☆

𝘐, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐𝘕 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘖𝘍, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘯-𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘦.

pornstar choso who’s just a little fucking weird.

choso seems to be extremely socially awkward when he’s around set. which is a real shame because he’s so.. pretty. he’s standing at a little over 6’4 with broad shoulders and a body carved into perfection, a handsome face with the most gorgeous features— he’s not a conventional kind of attractive but the kind of attractive you get from the art guy who smokes too many cigarettes.

he stands around. not particularly doing anything wrong per se but the way he just idles around with this tiny little water cup in his hand gets a few looks and scratches to the noggin. choso is taller than most people on set so anyone can explicitly see him people watch. usually, the sets are bustling and busy in between scenes. there’s wardrobe personnel, personal assistants, catering, makeup artists and hair stylists frantically working around him and he’s just in the middle of all the chaos with no sense of urgency.

pornstar choso who turns into an absolute beast once the cameras are rolling.

it’s really like a switch in his head flips. choso’s entire demeanor seems to shift into machine designed to fuck and give pleasure. you met him very briefly that same morning and he seemed like a nice guy— awkward but sweet. the scene wasn’t anything crazy in particular; it was a domestic type of affair starring a pining pair who finally give into each other

you can’t count how many times he’s made you cum without trying— but it starts to make you delirious. see, when scenes get really good like this, and both actors are into it as much as they are, it feels like the world around them no longer exists and they’re in their own bubble. they start to go off script and the director typically allows because often times, the method acting and improvising is better than any cheesy lines they get fed from the script. that’s exactly what happened.

choso’s cock is fat just as much as it is long, making it heavy under its own weight. it’s a pretty shade— maybe one or two shades darker than his complexion but when its hard, it’s flushed all over with this pretty mauve color. his actor profile says it’s 9 inches but it feels like its bigger probably because of the way he fucks. choso doesn’t let up in the slightest— you can be twitching, writhing and scratching from the pleasure but if he doesn’t hear an utterance of your safe word, he will not stop. choso switches positions like you’ve never experienced before; you could be in doggy with your back arched at a 90 degree angle then he’s flipping you over like a doll and putting you into a mating press.

pornstar choso who’s confused as to why he prematurely ejaculated because.. that.. never happens.

“cut!” the director calls out before rubbing his eyes with a pinch. “take 30– christine bring me a Valium and a club soda please.”

choso was so embarrassed when it happened— he let out this simple “I’m sorry.” in a low.. almost pained apology before slipping out of you, watching his seed ooze out of you like he disassociated from reality. watching him, watch himself like that.. didn’t feel like he was acting or in character to you. which made you wonder..

it felt.. a little too real for choso and that was something that has always separated work from real life for him. the line was blurred a little too well between the chemistry you and him both had— it took the intimacy to a different level. one he hasn’t had the luxury of experiencing in a very, very long time. in his dressing room he splashed his face with cold water, looking at himself in the mirror before getting a call from you.

“hi.. I just wanted to talk to you in private. you didn’t have to apologize to me back there.. I get it happens, there’s no need to beat yourself up over it, okay? If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s sweet. i’m out on the patio— the weather’s nice if you want to come join me.”

pornstar choso who’s really sweet to his costar even though he’s a bit awkward. he has a crush.

“thank you.. for the talk. I hate to disappoint.” choso says, looking down as he swirls around the cup of ice water in his hand. he finds it hard to keep eye contact with you but doesn’t really understand why. yeah, he’s a little embarrassed but there’s something about you.. his heart is racing and his palms feel clammy. you’re beautiful. “disappoint? kamo are you serious..?” you giggled. oh, did he say something wrong? you have a cute laugh but that’s not the point. what could be funny in this moment? “yeah. i’m serious..” he watches you tilt your head as you look up at him and his cock twitches back to life— just in time too, only 5 minutes left for recess. he notices a white flurry on your hair and he removes it carefully.

“choso.. you were far from a disappointment, sweetheart.. I could barely think straight.” you giggled again, feeling yourself get shy under his gaze. “I’ve been faking it for a long time for the sake of the camera but.. I seriously can’t tell you the last time I’ve came that hard, let alone in a row..” you reached out to caress his face. “Don’t beat yourself up.. you just keep fucking me like that again and again.. got it?”

pornstar choso who thinks he wants to ask out his cute costar but isn’t a fan of rejection.

high risk, high reward. choso has attempted to date outside his profession but it’s always failed. it’s not hard finding a woman he’s attracted to but getting them to stay after they find out he’s in sex work is the part that always seems to fall through. if they’re not scared off during the first week then once he actually has to go to work, it’s more than likely followed up with a “I don’t think I can do this.”

choso has never once blamed any of his hookups for their discomfort because he’s quite understanding. he knows himself that he would probably have a hard time too if he had just been a “regular” guy and never dated anyone who was in sex work. that requires a certain level of maturity, understanding and communication for that to work.

he asks you out once filming is finished and everything is wrapped up. you’re sitting in a plush robe in a director’s chair sipping on a juice box, swinging your feet back and forth as you scroll on your phone. there’s a cute smile on your face, your cheeks flushed and hair a little bit messy. you notice his presence before he says anything and he just kind of.. word vomits before you can greet him. “can I take you out.” sounds more like a statement than a proposal but you smile at him anyway.

pornstar choso who’s pleasantly surprised when you say yes.

“i’d really love that.. pick me up tomorrow at 6pm?” he’s surprised to say the least, he didn’t think you’d agree but he definitely didn’t expect you to initiate when. regardless, choso is excited. the social media platforms will be thrilled to hear their favorite adult actors are dating— eventually, it makes more sense to start an Onlyfans than it does to work under a company.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso smut

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disasterofastory · 2 years

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Best friends (Stucky x Reader)

Best friends Stucky x virgin!Reader Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut

Summary: Bucky has this amazing idea to give your virginity to Steve while he watches.

A/N: Kinktober 2022

Bucky is your best friend.

Ugh, you could kill him with your bare hands right now!

"What?" Your voice fills the small kitchen of your apartment. The TV is muffled and forgotten in the living room. Your favorite mug lands on the counter with a loud thud. Hot tea splashes out onto the cheap surface. Your eyes are wide, and your breathing is ragged as you watch the two men at the doorway. Bucky and Steve stand beside each other with crossed arms and smug smirks.

Ugh, the urge to punch them in the face!

"This is my best idea ever!" Bucky almost shouts with excitement. You are sure even your neighbors can hear him. "Okay," you breathe out with a feigned calmness in your voice."You lost your mind." "I did not!" "Then you have a stroke!" "Don't be such a meanie!" While you two argue, Steve continues to smirk and stare at you. Your leggings hug your legs deliciously while the worn t-shirt is bigger than you in several sizes. The fabric is familiar to Steve. It was Bucky's once. Your hair is a mess, and your face is free from makeup. The blonde man is sure he never saw you without lipstick before. You are still pretty. You are always pretty. The mention of his name wakes him up from his thoughts. "Steve, there is no way you agree with him!" Your eyes are on the blonde man now, waiting for his reaction. He shrugs, smirking. He is definitely not against the idea. "It would be so horrible?" You open your mouth to answer but can't find your voice. Having sex with Steve? You are sure it wouldn't be horrible. Losing your virginity like this? Yeah, it sounds like a lifetime of humiliation and shame. Your attention turns back to Bucky. "I can't believe you did this behind my back." Worry flashes on the brunette's expression before he steps closer to you until he can reach your arms. His long fingers smooth along your soft skin, holding your hands in his warm ones. "You told me you want to lose your virginity." Heat washes over your cheeks, and you don't dare to look at Steve, who is still at the doorway, watching and waiting. "I told you I would do it, but you are afraid it would change things between us." "And you asking your best friend to have sex with me while you are watching won't change things?" You ask. Your voice is high and breathless. "Well, you can trust Steve, and me being there is just an extra." A cheeky smirk pulls on his plump lips. Yeah, you know about Bucky's kinks and his history with Steve. And Steve… You know you can trust him. Even if you and Bucky are closer, thanks to the years you worked at the restaurant together, Steve is still your friend. "Bucky…" "Come on," the brunette coos, pulling you closer to his warm body. "It will be fun." "You and I have entirely different ideas about fun," you groan. You still feel humiliated, but can't deny the slight throbbing between your legs. "You say this because nobody ate you out before." "Bucky!" Your whine is muffled by his chest, but their laugh is clear and loud.

"So, what do you say, sweet girl?" Steve's deep voice is right behind you, making you jump and gasp as you look over your shoulder. "Are you sure you want this?" You ask him. You can't help but still feel a bit humiliated. Your best friend has to ask his best friend to take your virginity. It's not like you couldn't get laid if you want to, you just don't want someone you barely know but getting to know someone is not in your priorities. Steve moves closer. He presses his hips to the small of your back where you can feel his hard answer. "What do you think?" "Okay," you exhale. "So… how… how are we going to do this?" You can't believe you say yes to this madness, but here you are. "Let's go to your bedroom first," Bucky answers, leading you to the small room with Steve still on your heels. "It will be more comfortable here."

Excitement and hunger roar up in your belly while you stand at the end of the bed. Steve is in front of you, and Bucky takes his seat on the sofa at the wall. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, and in other circumstances, you would make sure to wipe it off, but right now, you are too busy with the other man. Steve's arms slide around your waist, hugging you close as he stares down at you. "We will start it slow, okay?" He asks quietly to not to break the moment between you. "And we can stop at any moment." You nod. "Okay." He dips closer until your lips meet. It starts softly. Your first kiss with Steve is barely stronger than a light brush on your tingling lips. Like a warm breath. A soft breeze. He moves back, and when he sees the impatient dizziness on your face, he grins and kisses you again. His tongue dances along your lower lip, nibbling on the soft flesh until you open your mouth, and he invades you, moving his hand to the back of your head. The slight pull on your hair makes you moan, and the kiss soon becomes all tongue and teeth. Steve feasts on your lips, letting his hunger for you lead him for long seconds. "Was it your first kiss?" He asks. His breath fans over your face. Bucky scoffs in the background, and you groan as you glance at your friend. "Shut up!" Then you look back at Steve. "No." The story of your first kiss is a long story. Well, not that long, but rather awkward. "Are you ready to go further?" With a deep breath, you nod and let him take off your t-shirt. Bucky's t-shirt. "Do you have a lot of Bucky's clothes?" Steve asks, letting the worn fabric fall on the ground. His gaze runs over your bare upper body without shame. "I mean…" "She has all my sweaters," Bucky chimes in. Steve chuckles and moves his hands to pull down your leggings. "Oh, you, shut up!" You snap at Bucky again, stepping out of your pants. Your whole body burns under their heavy stare, but the light conversation helps you to stay calm and collected. You have to force yourself not to hide your breasts with your arms. Steve wouldn't let you anyway. "Don't listen to him, Y/N," Steve says, cupping your jaw to pull your attention away from Bucky. "He is just jealous." No. He is not. All three of you know that. Even though Bucky would love to participate, he enjoys just watching the same. Watching you getting bare in front of his hungry eyes makes him hard and horny. His half-hard cock is pressed against his jeans. You are just as beautiful as he imagined when you first mentioned your lack of sex life.

Steve kisses you again while his hand moves from your arms to your ribs until he cups your tits with both hands. He gropes them, playing with the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, flicking and teasing the buds until they are hard under his rough fingertips. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his palms some more. "Do you like it?" Steve asks. "Are your pretty nipples sensitive?" "I…I guess." The words leave your swollen lips ragged. "Steve!" You cry out when he pinches and pulls on one of them. The light pain goes straight between your legs. Your clit throbs in sync with the beat of your heart. "Oh, they are," he smirks smugly. "Let me have fun with them, sweet girl. Let me taste them." He doesn't even wait for your answer. His lips latch on one of the hard buds, sucking it into his warm mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and his tongue flattens on the bud. He hollows his cheeks as he starts to suckle on your breast. Your hand is in his hair, pulling on the soft strands. "Steve," you cry out his name. Your voice is whiny and impatient. Steve and Bucky groan at the same time. The brunette is still on the sofa, stroking his own cock through his jeans. "Sweet girl," Steve chuckles, leaving your soft tits to kiss and nibble on your skin to stop under your ear. "What's the problem, Y/N?" "I…" You don't know what to say. You need so many things from the man you don't know where to start. "Yeah?" He teases. "How do you feel? Tell me." "I… I'm burning and aching," you reply, tasting the words on your tongue. Your skin is too tight, and your pussy is too empty. "Ah," he coos. "Our sweet girl is aching." You notice the word 'our' but say nothing about it. You are too busy with Steve's wandering hands, and you don't hate the thought. Being their girl. His arm curls around your waist while his other hand slips into your panties. "Your pussy aching?" He asks, cupping you between your legs. His middle finger glides through your soft folds. You soak his hand within seconds. "Take off her panties," Bucky orders hoarsely. He can't wait to see your sweet cunt. And the view of your naked body is prettier than he ever imagined. You step out of your panties automatically when Steve pulls them down on your legs. The apex of your thighs shines with your juices, and the blonde man's fingers are thick and long between your folds. "Do you want to taste him, Buck?" Steve asks suddenly. Your eyes widen. Even though you agreed Bucky would stay on the sideline, the thought of him between your leg doesn't seem so horrible. Steve smirks at your reaction and the slight disappointment on your face when Bucky walks closer but instead of falling on his knees, he takes Steve's fingers into his mouth. The view of your best friend sucking on another man's finger makes your pussy gush around nothing. "I think she likes it," Steve states, pulling his fingers in and out between Bucky's lips. He makes sure he is wet enough with the brunette's saliva before gliding his hand back to your pussy. He opens you up while kissing you again. "Such a shame he can't take care of you," Steve teases with feigned sadness. "Because, sweet girl, he is the devil himself with his mouth and tongue." You moan and grind yourself against his hand. His palm grazes over your clit, smearing your wetness all over your pussy and mound. "Lay down, baby," Steve says, breaking the kiss. "Let me taste you properly. I have to make sure you can take my cock into your pretty pussy." You do as he says. Your whole body trembles as you let yourself fall back on your bed, legs open, waiting. "Look at that, Bucky," Steve breathes out. "So pretty." "And she tastes so good," the other moans. His eyes are on your pussy, amazed by the beautiful view of your juicy center and swollen tits. Your nipple still glistens with Steve's saliva. "We will see," the man hums, kneeling down at the end of the bed. Soon, your legs are over his broad shoulders, and his face is between your legs. You hear him breathing in your sweet scent, and his groan runs through your spine. "Steve," you cry. "Please." "I'm coming, sweet girl, it's okay." And with that, he laps up on your folds, gathering your wetness on his hot tongue. He licks and slurps on your folds until he finds your throbbing, aching clit. He closes his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it like he did on your nipples not long ago.

Meanwhile, Bucky stands next to the bed. His cock is free from his jeans, his hand around the thick shaft as he strokes himself. His movements are slow, savoring every moment of you moaning and begging for more. "Don't forget your fingers, Steve," Bucky comments cheekily. "Don't forget what I taught you." Wet, slurping sounds fill the room that stop for a second when Steve growls into your pussy with distaste. "Oh, god," you moan. Your fingers dig into the cover under you, and your back arches away from the bed. It feels like Steve sucks the soul out of you, and you have nothing against the idea. Steve's fingers soon find your entrance, propping the tight hole to stretch you out and get you ready for his throbbing erection. He makes sure he goes slow and soft, not wanting to hurt you. "Cum, Y/N. Cum in Steve's mouth. Show him what that pussy can do." Bucky's order is sudden, but your body recognizes it immediately. Pleasure flares up in your veins as your chest swells with oxygen. Steve's grip on your hip is hard and tight as you grind against his lips and fingers. He devours everything you give him, slurping and drinking on your sweet nectar. Your thighs close around his head, keeping him in place until you are spent and dizzy. Small shocks shake your body when your orgasm ends. "Did you ever make yourself cum like this?" Bucky asks. His hand is on the base of his thick cock, keeping himself from cumming. Your breathing is rapid and heavy as you shake your head. No. And you are not sure you could ever do it. When your legs fall from his head, Steve kisses up on your whole body until he reaches your lips. The taste of you on his dominating tongue is overwhelming enough to make you excited once again. "Take it off," you murmur between kisses as you grab his shirt to tug on it. You feel his smile on your lips before he backs away to undress. "You are so pretty," you hum, still dizzy after your orgasm. Both Steve and Bucky laugh at your loose tongue. "You think so, sweet girl?" Steve smirks. "Yes." He really is. His skin is smooth on his broad muscles and the air gets stuck in your lungs when his jeans fall on the ground too. His cock is thick and hard. A bluish vein runs on the side of his shaft. The head is red and wet with pre-cum. "That's pretty too," you admit quietly mostly to yourself, but Steve and Bucky hear you. "Sweet girl," the blonde chuckles. "And what do you think about Bucky's dick?" He asks, moving up on you until your bodies are pressed against each other. His breath is warm on the side of your face. He leans on his elbow while his other hand caresses your side, drawing the underside of your breast and flicking the hard nipple. Your gaze wanders to Bucky, who still stands at the side of the bed, cock in hand, eyes on you. His cock is thicker than Steve's, but not that long. His balls hang heavy and deliciously. Licking your lips, you drag your eyes up on the man until you meet his lust-filled gaze. "Bucky's pretty too." "What?" Steve asks, nibbling on your neck. His deep baritone rumbles over your heated skin. "What is pretty, baby?" "Bucky's cock." "She is already cockdrunk," Bucky laughs, but he can't deny the satisfaction your words cause in him. "We are going to have so much fun with her," the man above you replies. "But first, I have to break that sweet pussy of hers."

His hand leaves your boob to grab himself between his muscled thighs. He drags his cock up and down over your folds, mixing your juices and soaking his length in your honey. "What do you say, sweet girl?" Steve asks. "Are you ready to take me? This pretty little cunt is capable of taking my cock?" "Yes," you rasp. The need is heavy in your lower belly. "Please, Steve." The man coos, kissing the tip of your nose before pushing his erection against your gaping hole. He moves slowly and softly, pushing his cock into you patiently. He lets you adjust around him, making sure your tight walls stretch without causing pain. "How do you feel, Y/N?" Bucky asks, watching your expressions. A small grimace pulls on your lips. "It's uncomfortable." "It will get better," the blonde man promises, stopping. His balls jerk at the urge to push into you fully and the force that keeps him doing it. "Tell me if it's too much." "No," you reply stubbornly. "Move deeper, please." "So polite," Bucky groans, kneeling on the bed to lean above you for a searing kiss. His movements are fast and forceful, drawing your attention away from the uncomfortable feeling between your legs. He fucks his tongue into your mouth, letting saliva escape between your lips while Steve pushes deeper. The slight pain is still there, but you don't have time to care. Letting yourself submit to Bucky's lips is more important. When the brunette decides to back away, Steve is in you entirely. Your walls loosen around him, making you calm down and enjoy the moment. "Are you okay, baby?" Steve asks. "Yes," you nod rapidly. Excitement runs through your body. He can fuck you now. "Move, Steve. Please fuck me." And he does. He goes slowly, moving in and out of you with small movements until he is sure you are really okay. Your legs curl around his waist, and your heels dig into his ass to urge him more. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, but he does as you want. And finally, Steve is fucking you. He pounds into your tight hole, pushing his hips against yours while you moan and writhe under him. His strong arms cage you between his hard body and the bed. He uses your pussy, enjoying every flutter of your walls.

Bucky jerks himself in sync with Steve's thrusts. His fingers are tight around his length, imagining your hot cunt around himself. He can almost feel it, the hotness, the softness of your body, your mewls next to his ear. His lower belly tenses and his muscles are taut as he tries to hold himself back. He doesn't want to finish before you. "Are you gonna cum?" Steve asks breathly. His hips snap against yours rapidly, chasing your orgasms with force. "Cum around my cock, sweet girl. Make a mess on it so we can mark you with our seed. Did Bucky tell you that? How will we finish? We want to cum on your skin, baby. We want to mark that pretty, tight body with our semen." "Steve!" You cry his name. Your head presses against the bed, eyes closed. The man bites into the curve of your neck and shoulder to push you some more. Electricity runs through your body as the hot coil snaps in your belly. Pleasure floods your senses, burning your veins and nerves. The world stops moving for long minutes. There is nothing but you and the delicious stretch in your pussy. You gush around Steve's cock, gripping him to the point he can barely move. A hoarse groan breaks through his throat as he almost rips himself out of you in haste. His cum splashes on your folds, coating your pussy and mound. He can't tear his eyes away from the beautiful view. He can see your hole fluttering and begging for his cock. Bucky's throaty groan seems far away even though his warm seed is on your skin, covering your hip and stomach. He can't wait to see your pretty face and tits soaking in his seed. Maybe next time. The moment his orgasm passes, he has other ideas to continue the night.

Your mind is still dizzy, and your body shivers and jerks with pleasure when you feel Steve's fingers around your ankle as he holds up one of your legs. "Are you ready for dessert, Buck?"

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky smut #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #kinktober 2022 #virgin!reader

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dontcxckitup · 1 year

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Ralph Fiennes A Bigger Splash

#;face #;v:what are you going to do when you're not saving the world (post)#A Bigger Splash #Ralph Fiennes

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pampin-oscar · 1 year

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A Bigger Splash

Cegados por el sol

#a bigger splash #cegados por el sol #dakota johnson

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dreamskug · 1 month

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[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

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luffyvace · 4 months

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MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3

Bathing together is SUPER FUN

and messy

you have lots (too many) bubbles

and yes bath toys

even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-

like sticks-

let him tell it they’re swords

he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care

even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀

so he canonly bathes once a week right??

with you !! He can bathe at any time!

why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆

you turn it into a game! an adventure!

so now he looks forward to bath time ;3

luffy splashes water everywhere

I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️

it takes you FOREVER to clean up

but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH

”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”

actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋

tell him sanji’s making food!!

ez way to get him out 😎

The final boss tho??

is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up

especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️

Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉

unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)

your not getting any help buddy..

he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️

but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)

which leads me to…!

Cleaning together !!

which turns into a game too :P

well, more like a competition-

Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning

even with meat on the line 🤭

‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘

- according to luffy

so yes! You propose a competition!

and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!

now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏

you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜

he may have won the battle but you won the war

eating together can also sometimes be a competition

now you can win by playing it smart like Uta

or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying

but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..

and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..

Luffy stealing your food!!!

😦😦

no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️

it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂

if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed

with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind

and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍

however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that

thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)

If your more carefree like luffy

i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once

oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet

dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..

but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not

if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama

he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍

he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth

especially as his s/o

if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent

and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!

and that you can at least hold over until he gets there

then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!

he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous

if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!

he just wants to know your safe :)

Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.

he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality

and even then he doesn’t judge that!

point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.

he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!

Luffy loves you.

He simply does.

and there’s no explaining why.

These were short but sweet<3

to which i hope you enjoyed them💗

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moonstrider9904 · 2 months

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Don't Blame Me

This one shot is for the Bad Batch Prompt event using the prompt:

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags: 18+ strictly. Minors should not interact with this or any of my writing pieces as they are content for adults only. Smut, sexual tension, foul language and swearing, oral (female receiving) sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, flirting.

Playlist: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

@arctrooper69 Tagging you right here :D

A night like that one was much too rare. The sun had just finished going down beneath the horizon, and the faintest hue of blue still lit the sky while the stars had already begun their nightly dance. The breeze was warm on your skin, even with the drops of water that lingered on you as you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet and calves still in the water, your hands running down your wet hair as you sighed and took in the life of the moment. The speakers played chill tunes, easy to listen to, perfect to vibe with the summery air and the laughs coming from all around the pool.

You looked around and smiled at the fact that all of your favorite troopers were there, and even some you hadn’t seen before—probably shinies who had just joined their platoons. Boys from the 501st, 212th, hell, even the 99s had bothered to come to a summer pool night on Naboo for their shore leave.

You couldn't help but laugh and think you’d seen it all when, across the pool, you saw that silver-haired sniper taking a sip from a bright cocktail. And his eyes were on you too, glaring, but you were used to that. You shot a cheeky grin at Crosshair only for him to roll his eyes and look away.

Your gaze remained on him for a little longer until you heard somebody diving into the pool, and when you looked at the crystalline water lit by the warm bulbs submerged in it, you quickly realized it was Fives as he emerged from under the water running his hands up his face and towards the back of his head, brushing the hair away. In that pose, Fives opened his arms and flexed, showing off his biceps as he shot you his signature charming grin, winking at you.

“These babies have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you, sweetheart,” Fives beamed.

Laughter escaped you—as much as you adored Fives, his attempts at flirting were always a sight to behold. Something about young, handsome soldiers tripping over their feet for your attention made you wish all summer nights were like that one, and to follow along with Fives’ game, you crossed one leg over the other, planted your hands firmly on the ground at your sides and shrugged, pursing your lips together.

“I don’t know, they kinda look the same to me,” you teased him.

“Don’t listen to him,” you heard the voice next to you as Jesse took a seat beside you only to fully get into the pool and swim over next to Fives, adopting his same pose. “I actually think I pull it off better, and I only lift half as often as he does. It’s like I don’t even have to try.”

“Oh, shut up!” Fives yelled, grinning mischievously as he brushed his hand and forearm over the water’s surface in Jesse’s direction, splashing him.

“That’s how you wanna do it, you runt?” Jesse played along and began splashing back.

As if that gesture were a galactic beckoning for the clones, the pool almost instantly became filled with troopers wanting to partake in the splash battle. You giggled as you watched them splash and wrestle playfully—the scene in front of you was probably the best definition of “boys being boys.” You loved it, and laughter wouldn’t stop leaving you. For the duration of that night, you hadn’t enjoyed anything more than what was currently playing out in front of you.

However, across the pool, the same pair of piercing amber eyes glared past the scene and into you, but you weren’t taking notice of that anymore.

It only took a few seconds for the clones’ splash war to no longer be about you, and the water flying in from multiple directions was beginning to get out of hand. Wiping a couple of drops that had fallen near your eyes, you got up and made your way towards the chair where you’d left your things. You slipped your feet into your sandals, smiling at the sound of the racket behind you blending with the music, and then you took the cream-colored shawl you’d taken to the party and wrapped it around your hips in a makeshift skirt. You were in the mood for a drink now, but while the water wars ended, you figured you’d hit the powder room to adjust your suit.

Crosshair watched you from where he stood, his eyes following your silhouette as you walked from the pool to the lounge. Every time your right leg came forward, your skin was exposed by the edges of the fabric wrapped around your hips, offering him a teasing glimpse of your thigh. He picked up on the sway of your hips, the delicate left and right of every step that you took, partnered perfectly with your hands coming back and forth in tandem with your stride. As you walked past the chairs and the tables, Crosshair took in how gracefully your hair framed your face, as well as how perfectly the top of your bathing suit framed your breasts and the top half of your belly, letting him see the skin just above your belly button only for the smoothness to stop just above your womb, where the shawl began.

Fuck. He suppressed a groan. Did you even have any idea how sensual you looked? Clearly you didn’t, why else would you waste yourself on all those amateurs trying to impress you with a basic flex and a splish-splash of water?

You’d made it to the common mirror just outside the restrooms and looked at your reflection in the flattering warm lighting. You combed through your hair using your fingers, trying to achieve a carefree look, a blend between messy and done that seemed right for the night. When you were done with that, you eased a few creases on the fabric of your shawl and tightened the knot—you didn’t want that getting loose on accident—and you smoothed out the top of your bathing suit as well. Once you were ready to head back out into the party, you turned around and began making your way where you came from. Your thoughts on what cocktail you were gonna get were interrupted by a tall, lean silhouette dressed in black coming into view. The sight of those amber eyes made you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on your lips.

“Look who finally decided to socialize,” you teased him.

Crosshair scoffed, his eyes looking aside as he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t waste my time or energy with you.”

You placed your hands over your heart, faking a heartache. “Must you hurt me so?”

“I’m not particularly happy with you,” Crosshair crooned.

You giggled. “You’re never happy with anyone. And you of all people have no reason to hold anything against me, you never even let yourself open up to me.” Your gaze softened and you took a step towards him, holding your fists behind your back and pouting up at him. “Why won’t you let me in, Crosshair?”

Again, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“Something tells me you did,” you answered. “Here I am, what do you want with me?”

“Nothing,” Crosshair nearly spat the word out.

You raised a brow. No one in that party could deny how insightful you were, not even him.

Crosshair scoffed again. “Fine, I’ll bite.”

“Please do,” you couldn’t resist the urge to say.

“Maybe I didn’t like the way the others were making fools out of themselves for your attention,” Crosshair glared. “It was pathetic to watch.”

“Ah,” you crossed your arms, nodding slowly. “So you’re jealous.”

“Fuck, no,” Crosshair smirked. “I just wouldn’t be caught dead being a complete idiot like that.”

“So you aren’t jealous?” You smirked back.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to stab someone?” Your smirk widened.

You’d cornered him, and Crosshair hated that. He was used to always having the upper hand, the higher ground, to being on top of everything. Nothing could ever surprise him, and when it did, it only meant he’d screwed up. The fact that you had just done that in the most leisurely of settings made him want to puke.

“Forget this,” he said, his silhouette beginning to turn around.

“I didn’t take you for the type to run away, Crosshair,” you said as your hands went over to your hips and you shifted your weight onto your left side, emphasizing the curves of your silhouette.

Crosshair faced you again, his gaze darkening at the little pose you’d adopted. You noticed his eyes running down your body, but when they met yours again, his gaze hardened.

“Fuck you,” he said, without hesitating.

You scoffed, looking at him from head to toe as well. “Fuck me yourself, you coward. I’d like to see if you can.”

He scoffed, his thin lips curving into a smile as he made his way towards you painfully slowly. Hovering in front of you, he took his fingers up to your chin, tilting your face up, making your breath hitch despite your witty exterior.

“You better be damn serious about that, doll,” Crosshair purred with hungry eyes.

“What, did I stutter?” Your breath shook as you whispered, and your hand snaked up his abdomen and felt his chest over the black shirt he wore. “What other way do I have to tell you I want this?”

The hand that was on your chin traveled back and down to cup the side of your neck, firm, but never hard enough to hurt you. Crosshair’s fingertips rested gently on your nape, and his other hand went up and joined the first in perfect symmetry. He pressed his body closer to yours, never breaking eye contact with you, and your heart beat so fast you were afraid he’d be able to hear it through your chest. He was devastatingly handsome, looming over you, watching you with lustful eyes foreboding passion. It didn’t matter where you were. It didn’t matter if there were people outside—they were enjoying their own night, they didn’t have to be involved in what only concerned you and Crosshair. All that mattered was the sensation of his hands on your skin, your hands over his chest, and the heat beginning to boil low in your stomach.

You half-expected another snarky remark, another sneer coming from Crosshair just to test the waters, but you basked in the mercy of the satisfaction that came when Crosshair finally crashed his lips down on yours. He stepped towards you and you stepped backwards, stumbling into the bathroom for him to lock the door behind him when you were both already inside. The music continued to boom from the party outside, as did the cheers and the laughter from everyone blissfully ignorant of the fire catching between you and the marksman. You didn’t have to worry about being heard.

You blindly walked backwards with your fists tugging at Crosshair’s shirt, your mind swarming with the concept of him as he devoured your lips with luscious kisses and mischievous nibbles. You felt your back bump into the wall next to the sink, and he pressed you onto it, letting you feel the erection growing under his pitch-black boxer bathing suit. You whimpered at the hardness and let your hands travel up his chest and around his shoulders until the tips of your fingers found his silver hair, which you twirled and tugged hoping to get a sound from him. Crosshair pleased you by letting out a low grunt and grew more passionate with every tug you gave to his hair.

One of the hands that was on your neck traveled down to your waist and kneaded your flesh with his fingertips, freeing your neck for him to take his kisses down to that sensitive skin he so badly wanted to mark. You shuddered when you first felt Crosshair suck on your neck, and you were astounded at his ease to find your sweetest spot. He nibbled and sucked such that you were certain there would be a maroon mark on your skin, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were enjoying the idea of coming out of that bathroom with that mark on your neck for everyone to see, and something told you Crosshair would get a kick of it as well, parading you in front of everyone else to show them how it’s really done.

When he was finished with your neck, Crosshair moved down your body leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles whilst feeling every inch of your body he could, including your hardened nipples over the fabric of your swimsuit, until he was on his knees in front of you. His hands greedily squeezed the flesh of your buttcheeks as he focused his kisses on your lower abdomen, just above the line where your shawl and the bottom of your bathing suit began. Unwilling to wait much longer to finally taste you, Crosshair curled his fingers around your bathing panties and pulled them down your legs with ease. You stepped out of them for him to hand them to you for you to hold in one hand, and when your other hand went to undo your top, he was quick to stop you.

“No, doll,” Crosshair purred. “You’re keepin’ that on.”

You giggled at him in response, and by his actions, he didn’t intend for you to remove that shawl either. Part of you would have preferred for Crosshair to have already been shirtless at this point, but any sort of thought faded when Crosshair took one of your legs and wrapped it around his back—it was only until then you became aware that your aching cunt was finally exposed to him.

Crosshair split the fabric of your shawl and placed it over your hips to keep it out of the way; he held your butt with one hand to keep you steady while he used his index and thumb fingers on his other hand to lift the hood of your clit. Your mind barely had a second to ponder on the fact that he knew what he was doing, and when you felt his tongue begin to brush over the pearl of your clit, your whole world faded. A deep moan escaped you, and your head fell back to the wall as your chest heaved at every sensation Crosshair gifted you with. You slipped farther from sanity and nearer into bliss, feeling he’d tip you over the edge in an obscenely small amount of time.

Switching between luscious kissing and precise sucking, Crosshair turned you from confident temptress to whimpering mess, pleased at the idea of having you at his mercy. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, and your hand reached down to find his hair again, twirling and tugging at his beautiful silver locks. You drew a moan from Crosshair, and its vibrations resonated deep within your flesh, finally finishing you off. Your already helpless moaning turned into pleading mewls as the pleasure that focused on your clit exploded into beautiful flames invading every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed as you squirmed, knowing it was only Crosshair’s grip keeping you upright. You were oblivious to the amount of times you whimpered his name, you only had the headspace to rut your hips against him, as if you weren’t feeling enough mind-erasing pleasure already.

You wanted more. You wanted his fullness, his touch. You wanted him.

Crosshair emerged from between your legs as if he were coming up for air after a long swim. You were dazzled, panting in the aftermath of every wave of pleasure you’d just felt, but you managed to look down and see him smirking proudly. Crosshair grunted as he stood up, towering over you again, and just when you were beginning to make sense of the world around you again, you saw him pulling down his bathing shorts to reveal a long, hard erection waiting just for you.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, making him chuckle with pride.

“Got room for some more?” Crosshair asked.

You nodded frantically, and without hesitation, Crosshair firmly grasped your ass and lifted you, resting part of your weight on the sink beside you. You clung to him, needily wrapping your legs around his waist, and he could only hum at the sight, pleased. After the painful wait, you finally felt Crosshair sliding himself into you, hissing at the initial stretch of your flesh only for you to moan when it became the most incredible sensation you’d ever experienced.

And Crosshair took it from there. Holding you firmly, he took care of every movement. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip in and out of you at whatever speed he desired, and you could tell he wasn’t planning on putting anything off. He was quick, accurate, decisive, grunting low and seductive into your ear with every few thrusts into your hips. Your nails clawed into his upper back, moaning deeply as you tightened your legs around him as much as you could, and it heightened the sensations you felt.

As he continued to fuck deep into you, Crosshair made eye contact with you for a moment, his cocky exterior suddenly becoming caring, even soft. The thought of your prior conversation entered your mind—how long had he felt that way for you? How long had you been suppressing your own desires for him?

Now that you were in his arms, feeling all the pleasure he could give you, you were certain you were where you needed to be.

A tender moan of his name escaped you just before you felt the pleasure expand through your body again. The moans induced by this second orgasm were far louder and embarrassingly more lustful than those of the first, and Crosshair thrust his hips faster into you as he fisted your hair and gave it a light tug. Your vision went white as you succumbed to the pleasure, to him, until you felt the heat of his release inside you followed by soft, low-pitched moans that sealed every one of your feelings for him.

Carefully, he set you down, and once he was sure that your feet were firm on the ground, Crosshair went limp in front of you. His arms were the only thing that remained strong as he caged you to the wall, panting to recover his breath in tandem with you. His lips were close to yours, and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to cup his face and kiss him gently. Crosshair kissed you back without a hesitation, retrieving his hands from the wall to place them over your wrists, pressing you deeper to him.

“You never had to be jealous, Crosshair,” you whispered.

“Don’t blame me,” he panted, “for getting a little unhinged at the thought of someone else trying to satisfy you.”

“Hey, if this is the result, I’ll take it any day,” you winked. “I should have known a tease and a challenge was all it took.”

Crosshair smirked at you and let his hands travel down to your waist, straightening his back and lifting your feet up with him. “Wanna show off your hickey?”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Crosshair chuckled and pecked your lips, setting you down on the floor again and pulling up his bathing suit again. “Come.”

You put the bottom of your bathing suit on and followed him out of the refresher with your arm linked in his, ready for all the stares you were about to receive. Crosshair would definitely show them all, and you never would have fathomed the idea of parading a fresh hickey in front of a group of men who were flirting with you minutes earlier, but if that love hadn’t made you a bit crazy, you wouldn’t have been doing it right.

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