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cloneloverrrrr · 5 months

Note

Hi, I was the one who requested the smut prompt with Hunter. Sorry, I just saw all your posts… I was inactive today.

Can the reader be female? If you’ve already picked out something else, then that’s ok too. Have a pleasant day :)

Hiiii my lovely!

I hope I have captured Hunter in the correct way as I’ve not wrote him before. I was going to write more but I’m still not feeling too good and my brain is rot rn😭

But anyway I hope you enjoy this Hunter smut💁🏻‍♀️🫠🥵

Dividers by my best one @idontgetanysleep 🖤

𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗣𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿- 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1313

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁, 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗙 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 , 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗣 𝗶𝗻 𝗩 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘆𝘆𝘆𝘆

The smooth sounds from the Marauders engines hum vibrating in your chest, the streaky distortion from the centralized bright glow shine in your eyes as you and Hunter travel through Hyper Space.

You secretly thank the maker Cid had introduced you all those months ago back at her Parlour, however it’s made things that more tricky. Your feelings for Hunter grew more as each day passed, the worry that weighed heavy on your shoulders, the painful ache in your heart wondering if he would return back from these missions was starting to take its toll. Yet you don’t dare admit to these feelings.

“Credits for your thoughts mesh’la?” His rich voice snapped you out of it and back to reality.

His focus on you is utterly mesmerising, his brown locks fall against his signature bandana, one brow raised awaiting your reply. His heightened senses very aware of the other feeling niggling away within you.

Lust.

“I uh sorry Sergeant nothing. Not long till we are due back I take it?” You stutter out shuffling in your seat. The tingle in your core growing.

“We have enough time mesh’la” his voice low, dark.

His eyes meet with yours, the unrestrained desire lingering has your mocha skin blushing the colour of your devil red lips.

Hunter gestures you over to him, unsure of what possessed him, but the urge to have you has overwhelmed him. His mind working overtime so desperate to feel your touch, to inhale your sweet scent. To make you his.

For a brief moment you stand next to him, unsure of your next move , he seizes your arms pulling you down on him with such force your cunt brushes against his codpiece, you chew on your bottom lip a very feeble attempt to stifle your soft moans. You watch as he removes his codpiece placing it to the floor of the ship delicately. The bulge under his blacks evident. Ready to burst out.

Hunter cocks his head to the side slightly letting a small chuckle. Your heart skips a beat. He can hear it loud and so fucking clear. He can see the nerves painted across your pretty face.

“You nervous?”

“Don’t be”

Your face leans in closing the gap between you both. You brush your fingertips gently across the tattoos on his face, a shiver runs through his body and he starts to push up into you. The heat radiates off him igniting the burning between your thighs.

A brazen confidence over takes you and slowly your movements match his. His fingers curl possessively into your hips dragging you up and down his crotch, your nails scrape at this scalp pulling his hair.

“Tell me mesh’la is this what you want?” He whispers into your neck as his tongue trails upto your pulse point.

Your whimpers are his yes. You move and position yourself with your back to him. Leaning your head back so you watch his reaction as you begin to unbutton your blouse discarding it to the floor leaving your torso completely bare. You hear him sucking in a deep breath behind you. His senses completely loose touch with any rational thought. The smell of your arousal, the way your skin glistening, the twitching of your cunt against him.

“If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week” you can hear lust lacing each word.

“We are in hyperspace so you can’t technically pull over” you chuckle pressing your ass further into him.

He grabs your thighs pushing you up and rips the clothing from your lower body off with little effort. He pushes you against the control panel spreading your legs. You feel his nose drag up in the inside of your thigh stopping as he reaches your wet pussy.

“Fuck- you smell so good” he rasps and sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your ass.

You gasp out in surprise gripping at the panel. His thumbs part your slit as he runs a flat wet tongue up and down achingly slow. The heat pools in your lower stomach , goosebumps break out littering your skin. Your hips move in sync with his tongue but you need more. He switches from fucking your cunt with his tongue to curling his fingers inside of you poking that spongy point sending your whole body into a blissful shock.

A deep primal growl left Hunters lips as your slick covered his tongue and lips. Your inner thighs damp from your juices. He devoured you from behind like a famished man. Your cunt fluttered , your clit swelled but you needed more so much more. Hunter understands this wordless demand and he stops. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“You need to be fucked don’t you mesh’la?”

He gives you no time to respond before he fully sheaths inside of you, the stinging pain surges through you ultimately overtaken by the pure pleasure his thick cock provides. A furious pounding begins, he has lost control. The need to fuck you to stretch you to have you surrender to him has commandeered him.

Your breathing intensified, his thrusts harsh, vehement. All of his senses were completely ablaze, he was at the core of you and it was the only thing he needed. He won’t stop he can’t stop , his only focus is your pleasure.

“Oh Hunter- ohh fuck more please “ you beg and pant.

Long harsh strokes of his cock splitting you open his hands grabbing onto your thighs, filthy praises and clammy skin smacking against skin had you teetering on the edge so close to your cunt ready to coat him in your release.

“Look at what you fucking do to me Mesh’la” his raspy groans have that coil inside you threatening to snap.

Hunter continues his relentless pounding , grazing his lips down the back of your neck , a fistful of your hair entangled in his fingers he pulls your head taught so your looking back at him before licking a long stripe back up your spine to your shoulders blades. Shivers tickle your body, your cunt begins to convulse around his quivering cock.

You gaps and moan loudly, your grip so firm on the control panels they could crack any moment. You begin pushing your hips back to meet his trying to control his viscous assault on your swollen pussy.

“Oh fuck Hunter you make me want to reach for the stars” you can barley muster this sentence out as more moans fall from your mouth.

His thrusts become more erratic, you can feel as his body trembles against yours. He pulls you up flush against him and takes your breasts in his large calloused hands, rolling and rubbing your nipples between his rough fingers as his thrusts continue fucking up into you. Your breasts bounce in his hands , his hair falls into your face and you scream his name.

The coil finally snaps. Your body betrays you and you cum violently for him.

A beautiful mist blurs your vision, your eyes roll back in and you lean your head in the crook of his neck, his warm seed coats your walls. A ravishing euphoria washes over you and Hunter alike, your bodies falling limp against each as you continue grinding on his cock milking him for every last drop.

“You’ve been a good girl haven’t you” he breathes into your ear planting open mouth kisses across your neck and jawline.

Hunter sits back down in his seat keeping a firm hold on you, his cock softening inside of you but he is unable to let you go. A spell he does not want to break.

“Made good on that promise didn’t you Sergeant” you chuckle leaning back into him as you both look upon the twinkling lights of Hyper Space.

TAGLIST- @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hellhound5925 @hello-there-cyarika @cw80831 @justanothersadperson93 @jules-1999 @eternal-transience-spice @n0vqni @dangraccoon @kimiheartblade @gun-roswell @dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin

If you want to be added or removed please LMK😃

#clone thot #clone force 99 #the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter smut #tbb hunter smut #clone thots #talk to me about clones #hunter x fem!reader

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dilfslover0003998 · 3 years

Text

welcome home

▸ pairings: step brother!oikawa tōru x f!reader

▸ warnings: dark content! use of “nii-chan”, dumbification, manipulation, unprotected sex, choking, oral fixation, praise, begging, aftercare, crying during sex, dacryphilia, fem pronouns + fem body descriptions

▸ summary: your step brother comes home from Brazil with only one thing on his mind!! (1.9k words)

▸ a/n: this isn’t a representation of a healthy relationship between step siblings, nor should it be followed as such!! this is pure fiction, and not based off of real life situations. 18+ content!! minors dni!!!

SEND ASKS HERE!

You were so excited. It was very occasional when your step-brother visited home from Brazil, and whenever he did, he brought tons of foreign treats and presents that’d keep you busy until he was done with your parents and had time just for you and him.

You tried cleaning your already spotless house, you tried reorganizing your room, you tried folding and refolding laundry, but the day dragged on as you waited for a knock at the door. Then, unknowingly, as you stared up at your ceiling while laying in your bed, you’d drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke, it was to a gentle but calloused hand shaking your shoulder and calling out your name in a playful, amused whisper. When your eyes cracked open and you saw a mess of brown hair, you instantly sat up and gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before he could even react.

“Nii-chan!” you squealed, pushing against him so hard that he fell onto his back. “I missed you so much! How was your flight? Did you bring me more of that weird candy you did last time?”

“Whoa–slow down,” he chuckled, lightly brushing his palm against the back of your head. “I’ll answer everything soon, okay? But for now, you know what I want, don’t you?”

You pulled back and looked up at him through your lashes, your cheeks already heating with a blush. You looked down at your lap and picked at your pretty acrylic nails that you got just to impress him. “Yeah,” you said, voice low and soothing to his ears.

God, he missed you, probably even more than you missed him. But, there you were, sitting on your calves with a pretty white skirt and sweater covering what he’d been dying to see since the last time he left you in Japan. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair was hiding parts of your face, and your eyes–shit, your eyes–were already teary from his teasing tone and light touches. He needed you.

“Then go on, princess,” he encouraged, brushing some of your hair behind your ear and pulling you by your chin to look up at him again. “I missed you too, you know? Let me prove it to you?”

You nodded without a moment’s hesitation and pressed your pretty soft lips to his. Oikawa’s large hands, roughened by the years of playing volleyball, came up to pull your hips into his lap. When you were comfortably seated on his thighs, he could feel the warmth of your cunt pressing against his crotch, and he groaned into the tight seal of your mouth.

You gently scraped your nails against the back of his neck and sucked him in closer, body consuming your thoughts. You were already emotionally stimulated by your step-brother’s return, and pairing that with the physical stimulation of his jeans-covered cock, you were practically a goner, whimpering and whining at every little brush of his fingertips against your warm skin.

“You’re so sensitive today,” he mumbled against your lips before he moved his mouth to latch onto your neck and suck a pretty purple bruise into your skin. “Is there any reason why?”

“Y-you know there is,” you whined at his teasing. “‘s cus you’re home, nii-chan… my body missed you too, y’know?”

He smirked against you before leaning back and just holding your hips steady on his. “Yeah? Where did it miss me the most, princess? Right here?” He trailed his fingers to under your skirt, gently tracing little circles into your thighs. You shook your head, hips twitching forward.

“No, nii-chan,” you grabbed his wrist and tried to stop, but he sent you a gaze that could only be interpreted as a warning.

“Here?” he continued, fingers finding themselves rubbing against your tummy. You arched into his hand, begging for more of his attention. “Or is it here?”

His hand went between your breasts and circled your neck, holding your forehead against his as you panted into his open mouth, not expecting a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “Or right here?”

You moaned when his other palm cupped your entire cunt, fingers dampening from your panties that were soaked. “Right there!” you cried, humping his hand despite knowing it’d only tick him off.

You were proved to be right when he clicked his tongue and pulled his hands away. “That’s so cute, princess,” he teased, poking your nose playfully. “But, your mom and my dad are waiting for us to come downstairs for our dinner reservations. So why don’t you get all dressed up and let your nii-chan treat you to something good to eat, hm?”

Your heartbroken, teary-eyed stare nearly made him snap. Your hands were sweaty as they grabbed at his shirt. “N-no… nii-chan, no! I thought… you said you missed me! That you want–wanted to show me how much!”

He adored the little hiccups in your voice as you tried not to break down and cry in front of him. He knew you liked to play strong. “I just wanted a kiss, baby, that’s all,” he wiped the stray tear that fell down your cheek. “Did my little girl misunderstand me? Is that it?”

“But…” you didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. Was that what Oikawa really meant? Did you just misunderstand? Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to figure out what to say.

He sighed, almost like he was disappointed, then hugged you to his chest and smiled when you inhaled his scent and melted in his arms. “Oh, poor girl. I know it’s tough, being as cute and dumb as you are. There’s no need to cry, though, okay? Do you want nii-chan to take care of you before dinner? It’ll have to be quick, so I can’t promise it won’t hurt or that I’ll be gentle.”

Oikawa knew he’d won when your eyes lit up, and you looked at him like he was the only star in the sky. “Please,” you asked, pathetically sniffling and wiping your eyes. Mascara ran down your cheeks, and he nearly came at the sight alone.

“Alright, baby, take your pretty skirt off and lay back on the bed, okay? I’ll take care of you real quick so we can still make it to our reservations,” he mumbled, placing you to the side and watching you strip as he yanked his jeans down enough for his boxers to show just how affected he was by all of this in the form of a wet spot right where the head of his cock lied.

“Greedy little girl, you’re willing to make our parents wait so you can get your tiny cunt stuffed? Are you that obsessed with your nii-chan’s cock, hm?” he teased, pulling you onto the bed and kneeling between your spread, slick thighs. You nodded your head, sticking your tongue out in need of something to suck on.

Three of his fingers shoved down your throat the second he thrust his clothed cock into your drippy cunt. “Jesus, you’re so wet. I bet it won’t hurt, even without prep.”

You moaned, your hips moving against your will as he continued to soak his boxers in your precum. “Please,” you mumbled around his fingers, begging him to just fuck you already.

“Alright, alright–shhh,” he whispered, kissing your forehead gently as he managed to push his underwear down to his thighs. “Be a good girl and swallow my cock up with your messy cunt, yeah?”

With that, and a little lining up, he shoved himself all the way in with a grunt. Before you could even react, he was already pulling back out. He really was giving you no time at all. Finally, the dam holding back your tears broke, and you sobbed loudly around his fingers as he ruthlessly fucked into you.

“Be quiet,” he chastised while his other hand curled around your neck once again. He squeezed this time, trying to shut you up as much as he could so your parents wouldn’t hear. “Does that feel good, baby? I bet it does; you look so stupid and fucked out already. My pathetic pretty girl, this was all you wanted, wasn’t it? The entire time I was in Brazil, I bet you thought about my cock pounding into you like this, isn’t that right?”

You choked as the tips of his fingers tickled the back of your throat, but you were determined to contribute to his pleasure in some way, so you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, missing the tempo half the time but loving the small moans that you pulled from him.

“That’s it, you’re a good fucking girl,” he groaned, letting go of your neck in favor of pressing two fingers to your clit. “You’re so messy, angel. Drooling around my fingers, all down the front of you, and creaming yourself on my cock. Do you like this? Is this what you wanted? Go ahead, answer.”

You barely processed the demand as his fingers pulled from your mouth, and you instantly let out a loud cry of pleasure as his tip hit your most sensitive spot. “Nii-chan!” you yelled, immediately getting silenced once again with his palm covering your lips.

“You little brat,” he teased, not being able to help the smirk that appeared on his face. “Are you so fucked stupid that you can’t even follow simple directions? Answer me, quietly, or I’ll make you regret it.”

You nodded your head, but you figured you’d promise anything just to have him keep hitting your g-spot the way he was. “L-love it, nii-chan! Love your cock fillin’ me up! W-want more, please! This is all–all I thought ‘bout!”

“All you thought about? When?” he asked, grabbing your jaw between his fingers as your tears tracked your mascara down his hand. “When it was your hand playing with your little clit, and not mine? When you shoved a toy in your cunt instead of my cock? Was that when?”

“Yes!” you tried keeping your voice down, but you were starting to see white, and you were on the verge of release. “W-when I touched myself, ‘n when I was doing normal t-things too! Like when I ate or–or went to lectures! Couldn’t help myself but lie to the professor when h-he caught me touching myself for you! Told him I had cramps!”

Oikawa moaned at your words, only thrusting into you harder. “Cum, baby. You missed it so much, didn’t you? Missed my cock so much that you got off inside that prestigious little college you got into? What would the recruits and your mom say? Knowing their filthy little girl is more focused on her step-brothers cock than her lessons?”

You screamed into his neck, allowing yourself to get off at his words. Then, when he felt your walls fluttering around his cock, he couldn’t help but follow you and fill you up with his cum. “Fuck! There we go,” he bit into your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of marking you up as his.

It took a few minutes to come down from his high, and when he did, he noticed your glazed-over eyes and faraway stare. He smiled, kissing your puffy lips gently.

When you came to, you were cozied up against Oikawa’s chest, his hands playing with your hair. “Hi, baby,” you heard.

“Hi,” you looked up at him. “What happened? Why didn’t you wake? What about the reservations?”

He cooed at how cute you looked, worried about his plans. “I pushed them back a little bit. Let’s get you in the bath, okay? Then we can worry about all of that.”

“Yeah,” you giggled, letting your head fall back into his chest comfortably. “Thank you, nii-chan.”

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa smut #oikawa headcanon #oikawa scenarios #oikawa tōru #step brother oikawa #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq fic #haikyuu fic #oikawa fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #oikawa fics #manipulation

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

gentle.

| zemo x reader | fluff | smut |

soft dom zemo 🤍 ✨

cw: d/s, daddy kink, praise kink

Zemo walked through the door, closing it behind him quietly. He searched for you quietly, aware you’d likely be asleep at this hour. He found you on the couch, where you had attempted to stay awake for him.

A yellow knitted throw blanket was wrapped around you, and you were half sitting up, having fallen asleep mid-episode of a sitcom.

Zemo smiled at you, amused by your sleeping figure. He shut off the television before picking you up, carrying you to bed so you could have a proper night's sleep.

His heart melted as you snuggled into his chest in your sleep, unconsciously recognizing the presence of your lover. He kissed your forehead, brushing stray hair from your face. He listened to your steady breathing, contently watching you sleep before drifting off himself.

“Good morning,” Zemo greeted you.

You were yawning as you walked into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes sleepily. You looked darling, and Zemo watched you in adoration.

“What’re you doing?” You slurred softly, still half-asleep.

“Making you breakfast, pretty girl.”

You leaned up on your toes for a kiss, being happily indulged by Zemo. He carefully hauled you backwards, away from the hot stove.

“I don’t want my little love to burn herself,” Zemo explained to you, making you roll your eyes at his tendency toward being over protective.

His large hand grasped your jaw, holding your head to look at him. He didn’t hurt you, only displaying his strong dominance by manhandling you gently. His grip was only tight enough to hold you, putting you in your place without being harsh.

“Cut the attitude,” Zemo warned softly before holding you still so he could press a firm kiss to your lips.

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, feeling especially submissive. He’d been gone on a work trip recently, and you were happily well behaved, loving the way he indulged you in attention and doted on you upon his return.

“Go set the table,” he nodded, and you did as he asked.

“Why don’t you come back to bed with me?” Zemo asked, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You nodded, gently laying a hand on his cheek and giving him sweet little kisses as you stood in the kitchen, the tile cold against your bare feet. He tapped your bum, signaling you to walk toward the bedroom.

Before you even made it there, Zemo was pulling your shirt over your head— one you had stolen from his side of the closet. Your breath hitched softly, your hands going to your chest to cover yourself as you walked through the house.

“No, my love, let me see your pretty tits,” he scolded, prying your hands away. You shivered, feeling a bit shy in front of him. You giggled as he mouthed at your chest, kneeling in front of you. The hair on his face tickled your skin, creating an odd sensation. He kissed down to your navel, kneeling before you in just loose gray sweatpants.

He hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them swiftly down your legs and tossing them aside. You were left in just your panties, barely covered by pale lilac fabric, plain except for a tiny bow sitting between your hips.

You were so innocent, and Zemo couldn’t get enough.

“Yours too?” You questioned, touching his waistband as he stood up.

“No, pretty girl, I’m going to leave mine on.” Zemo shook his head, sitting down on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. You stood beside the bed, unsure of what he wanted.

“Come here, why’re you being so shy?” He teased lightly, taking your hand and helping you onto the bed.

You were surprised as he pulled you to lay over his lap, your ass in the air as you bent over his thighs. Your arms folded under your head, and you turned to look up at him.

“Are you going to spank me, daddy?” You asked, a whine lilting your voice. You were startled, you’d been so well-behaved, and you didn’t feel like you deserved to be punished.

“No, of course not. I just want to play with you,” Zemo bent down and kissed your lips, easing the uncertainty in your mind.

“You need to relax.”

You nodded, exhaling a slow breath, trying to obey. The tension slowly left your muscles as he trailed fingertips up your bare spine, his touch finding the dips in your back. You gazed at him from under your lashes, admiring the gentle man who loved you. He smiled down at you, brown eyes locking with yours.

“I love these,” he mused, touching the lilac thong that curved along the swell of your ass.

You let him part your legs a bit, allowing him to see more of you. His strong hands squeezed the flesh of your thigh, pulling them apart on his lap.

Zemo couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. You felt him harden under your belly as he got a full view of your cunt practically spilling out of the thong. The fabric barely covered you, providing a filthy sight to Zemo.

His fingers dipped down, squeezing your puffy sex, cupping your mound and touching your lips. The action made you breathless, and he ran his fingers up and down the light cotton, until a dark patch started to form, your arousal soaking through your panties. He tugged up just slightly, monitoring your reaction at the pressure it put on your clit, the little bundle of nerves that was now throbbing with need.

You’d grown warm on his lap, despite being almost entirely naked. You felt observed, strangely aroused and overly shy as he practically inspected your pussy. You tried to swallow a small whine as the fabric pushed against your clit, biting back the noise.

“Daddy, why are you looking at me?” You whispered, squirming under his touch. You’d done your best to hold still and let him touch you as he pleased, but you were growing needy and embarrassed.

“Because you’re beautiful, little love. Do you want me to bring you pleasure? You’ve been so sweet, I do feel as though you’ve earned a reward,” he offered, the gentle gaze in his eyes completely sincere.

“A reward?” you questioned softly.

He hummed, nodding at you. You smiled shyly, lightly kicking your feet.

“You’re all wet, darling.”

You buried your face in your arms, sighing as Zemo ran his fingers over your sex before pulling the fabric down your legs. He prodded at your pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers and lightly pinching the puffy skin.

“Daddy, you’re teasing,” you accused, pouting a bit.

“What do you want?” He asked, a small smirk adorning his gorgeous features.

He wanted to hear you say it, trying to ease you out of your shyness.

“I want you to touch me properly, please,” you asked politely, pushing up on your hands to kiss him.

“I would be happy to, my love.”

You relaxed back on him, humming as he dragged his fingers through your folds, bringing them down to rub lazy circles on your clit. The small movements had heat spreading between your hips, tension starting to form.

Zemo eased off of the direct stimulation, pushing one of his longer fingers past your tight muscles, feeling your velvety walls swallow his digit. He slowly pumped it in and out, your body squeezing around him as he inserted a second finger.

He listened to the soft sigh that left your lips, morphing into a moan as he stroked forward, pressing against your g-spot. He relished in the mewels that escaped you, your back bowing as he rubbed your clit while moving his fingers inside of you, brushing sensitive areas that had you seeing stars.

“Oh... daddy,” you whined, the pressure tight in your abdomen, settled just above your sex. Your muscles contracted around his fingers, clamping down as goosebumps rose over your delicate skin.

“Are you close, darling?”

You nodded, unable to trust yourself not to scream if you tried to speak. You squirmed on his lap, your thighs shaking.

“Let go for me, pretty girl, I want to see you come all over my fingers,” Zemo encouraged, smirking as you squeezed your legs around his hands, trying to stop the stimulation as you came. Your fingers gripped the begging and you squealed, arching your back as you lit like a match, pleasure spreading through every inch of your body.

Zemo gently kept up his slow thrusts, his fingers dipping in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, prolonging it as long as possible.

The tension in your muscles faded with your release, leaving you relaxed and dazed. Calm settled over you, deep breaths making your back rise and fall.

“That’s my sweet girl, taking my fingers so well. You look so pretty when you come. I’m so proud of you.”

You glowed at his praise, savoring the gentle moment with your dom. He took the time to carefully clean you up before pulling you up to sit on his lap. Your fingertips ran through his facial hair, beaming as he gazed at you with his kind brown eyes.

He pulled you into a kiss, strong arms wrapping around your back and closing you against his chest. His lips moved against yours perfectly, Zemo an expert scholar in your body and your kisses. He swallowed your quiet, happy sighs, enjoying the intimacy.

“I love you,” Zemo spoke, a Sokovian accent lilting off of his words.

He was massaging lotion into your body after a shared shower, protecting your skin from the dry air. A cup of jasmine tea was in your hands, steaming and filling the room with a sweet scent, mixing with the smell of your lotion.

“I love you too. I’m really happy you’re home.”

“I won’t leave for that long again. I missed you, I’ll stay local from now on,” he said, surprising you.

“You’re staying local? But you’ve always traveled with work,” you questioned, thinking you misunderstood.

“I have, but you’re everything to me, and I can’t stand to be apart from you.”

He melted at the grin that spread across your face, your joyful kiss tasting like jasmine. You leaned back into his chest, his arms snaking around you to hold you in a tight hug.

“I can’t imagine anything better than waking up to you every morning. So that is what I plan to do, as long as you let me,” Zemo said.

“I’ll let you stay forever.”

560 notes · View notes

y4ngy4ngs · 3 years

Text

fever

cw ! nsfw ! dom!f!reader x sub!xiaojun x brat!yangyang, mxm kissing at the start, oral (m + f rec), tasteful cockstepping, xiaojun mommy kink (sue me), punishing yangyang by fucking xiaojun - that kind of deal, lots of pet names (i'm pushing the calling yangyang puppy agenda), yangyang is a painslut, multiple orgasms, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, overstimulation, happy 400 followers celebration fic!

2712 words

you could hear yangyang's whiney voice from the bedroom as soon as you walked in the front door. he was always up to some kind of scheme trying to corrupt your sweet boy, xiaojun, who would never really cave.

xiaojun much preferred the sweet, romantic side of your arrangement, when you would kiss him sweetly on the lips and cheeks as you told him how pretty he looked all fucked out for you and how proud you were of him. yangyang was the total opposite, you'd been with him for so much longer and by now, he got off on you being so mean to him. slapping his face, and telling him he was useless and disappointing as xiaojun sat scandalised to the side.

you lingered outside your bedroom door for a second. it was closed, no doubt by yangyang who had been more and more desperate in his attempts to make xiaojun break the rules. you could see why, xiaojun looked delectable when he got riled up, blushing pink and pretty down his neck with his bleach blonde hair fanning over the pillow and his thick eyebrows knitted together.

"come on, baby," you heard yangyang plead, "one more kiss. just one!"

kissing wasn't really against the rules, as long as it didn't surpass innocent pecks. you weren't a monster. but you only stood for a minute longer before you began to hear xiaojun's telltale little choked moans. opening the door, you were only half-surprised to see a shirtless yangyang straddling an also shirtless xiaojun, yangyang's fingers messing up the other boy's hair as he ground down onto him.

as soon as the door swung open, you heard xiaojun begin frantically apologising.

"i'm so sorry, mommy," he began, breathless and pushing a giggling yangyang off his lap, "i don't know what happened."

"yangyang was being a whore, baby," you replied, pointedly not looking at yangyang, "it's not your fault."

yangyang whined at this, a light, airy sound voicing his displeasure. xiaojun had kissed him back, xiaojun had grabbed at his hips, xiaojun had bucked up when yangyang ground down. so why was xiaojun your baby and not a whore? not that he was complaining when your degrading words sent such an excited chill down his spine.

he watched with a piercing gaze as you wandered over to xiaojun. by this point, watching your swinging hips as you slowly approached him as you would a flighty animal, xiaojun's fingers were digging deeply into the bedsheets below him and his face was flushing a deep red.

"don't be be nervous, my pretty boy," you whispered gently, trailing a finger down the side of his face and watching as he turned his head to try to nuzzle into your palm, "i'm gonna treat you so good. i'm gonna look after you so well. i know you didn't mean it."

you turned to yangyang, who was smiling sweetly as if acting like a good boy would forego any punishment. running your fingers through xiaojun's pretty blonde hair, you commanded yangyang to kneel next to the bed, in front of you.

he immediately moved, eager to see what punishment awaited him. as soon as he was properly situated on the floor, you raked your hands through his hair, yanking at the roots and watching his face twitch in pain.

giving him a second of reprieve, you let go of his hair. you watched his body sag a little before he righted himself and looked up at you again expectantly. you knew what he wanted and so you slapped him hard across the face, leaving a bright red mark. yangyang moaned in relief at the delicious burn and sting while xiaojun let out a scandalised gasp.

"one more?" yangyang gasped, looking up at you with bright, watery eyes.

"eat me out well enough and i'll do whatever you want, pup," you stated, flipping your skirt up and yanking down your sheer tights. at his hesitance, you pushed the back of his head lightly, "come on."

strong, lithe hands grabbed your thighs as yangyang got to work pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over your underwear. you turned your head to see xiaojun kneeling next to you, hands clasped firmly behind his back in submission, refusing break anymore of your rules.

"you look so pretty, baby," you praised, ignoring the boy between your legs, even as he amplified his movements to make his presence known, "always so good and soft for mommy."

xiaojun preened at the praise, still flushing down his chest as he watched yangyang finally peel off your underwear. you were determined to not give yangyang any satisfaction - even as he pressed his tongue against you, flicking lightly over your clit, your eyes were still trained on xiaojun.

"oh my sweet boy," you stroked dejun's cheek with the back of your palm to feel the heat radiating off his skin, "you know you shouldn't have broken the rules, right? even if yang is encouraging you?"

he nodded quickly, catching the tips of your fingers in a kiss. you played with his bottom lip for a moment with your thumb, just pressing lightly, before his jaw went slack and he allowed you to push the digit into wet heat of his mouth. you left it in there for a second, pressing down lightly on the divot in the centre of his tongue before removing your thumb and pushing your middle and ring finger between his lips.

"so good for me, oh-" you caught yourself in a moan as yangyang pressed two slim fingers into your cunt.

you said nothing, simply ghosting your other hand over the back of his head as an acknowledgement. the non-committal, indifferent way you were acting only served as to encourage yangyang to pleasure you tenfold. he knew he had to fight for your attention, fight for your pretty words and praises, and he was trying so so fucking hard.

"looks pretty down there," xiaojun started, reaching down to brush yangyang's fringe out of his eyes as he worked.

you grabbed his hand, diverting its course to land on your thigh as you chastised him lightly, "don't look at him."

you felt a groan reverberate through you, yangyang having a visceral reaction to your words as his mouth began working harder on your clit, his fingers searching desperately to find the spot that would white out your vision.

"mommy," xiaojun began, "please touch me, 'm so hard for you."

"hard for me?" you retorted, "didn't he make you hard?"

you punctuated your question by pulling at yangyang's hair, pulling a surprised groan out of him which in turn caused you to make your first real noise of pleasure. you could see him beginning to grind up into the heel of his hand. even while being punished he was still being so utterly infuriating that you could go nothing but lightly kick his hand away and replace it with the sole of your foot. you pressed down with no real malice, just creating a heavy weight against his cock to let him know that touching himself there was off-limits.

"please," xiaojun whined, in a futile attempt to bring your attention back to him even when yangyang was so, so devastatingly close to making you cum, "please, mommy, touch me."

you felt yangyang smile from where his lips were positioned over your clit, listening to you gasp and swallow down moans, gripping tightly on the tufts of hair on the back of his hair and on xiaojun's soft thigh. your foot pressed down a little harder, yangyang choking back a noise of pained pleasure as he ground up against the friction.

"careful, puppy," you gasped, "you're not allowed to cum until i say so."

you could feel his soaked chin against you, covered in his spit and your arousal and it just brought you hurtling towards the edge. he was so messy and he was being so good to you that you could do nothing more but gasp out some praises as you released onto his waiting tongue.

you could only bask in the afterglow for a minute before the two boys in front of you started whining for attention, desperately hard and waiting to cum. yangyang leant his head against your shaking thigh, turning his head to lightly kiss the sensitive skin there with his lips still slick from your orgasm.

"do you forgive me now?" he smirked, biting lightly on your inner thigh.

you ignored him in favour of turning xiaojun and asking, "do you wanna fuck me, baby?"

xiaojun's eyes went wide at your question. xiaojun rarely ever topped you. he was usually under you, writhing on your strap as you fucked him until he was gaping. if you wanted someone inside you, you would usually turn to yangyang.

he swallowed thickly before raising his big, brown eyes to meet yours, whispering an "if you'll let me, mommy."

you weren't expecting yangyang to be happy with this turn of events and he wasn't. he bit down harshly on your thigh before sitting back on his haunches and complaining.

"what about me?" he said, acting indifferent but you still had your foot pressed against him and if you pushed down you could still feel him desperately solid in his sweats.

you brushed his sweaty fringe away from his forehead, before cradling his jaw and leaning in to say, "i suppose you can watch. and if you don't act out, you can cum."

you pressed a light, chaste kiss to his lips before turning to xiaojun and pushing him back onto the bed before peeling off his sweats. you didn't think you would ever get over xiaojun's deer-in-the-headlights act, his eyes still wide and sparkly and innocent as he looked at you like you were blowing his mind for the first time, every time.

you rubbed a hand over his clothed cock for just a second before he choked out a, "no 'm too sensitive", before you peeled his underwear down and took him fully into your hand.

you turned to yangyang, smiling when you saw him sitting with his knees bright red against the ground and his fingertips pressing crescents into the material of his pants.

"honey, will you pass me the supplies?" you asked sweetly, your smile widening as he reached into the drawer to wordlessly hand you a condom and lube with just the ghost of a pout on his face. even though he acted sullen and reluctant, you knew from the blush on his cheeks that he loved this delay. his orgasm just felt that more powerful after waiting for it, working for it, the anticipation of you wrapped around him being almost better than the act itself. almost.

making sure you could still see yangyang through the corner of your eye, you quickly readied xiaojun who whined and moaned at the feeling of your fingers ghosting over him before slowly sinking down on him. you winced a little, the stretch wasn't painful but it was so soon after your previous orgasm that you felt the slight aftershocks of overstimulation.

you sat there for a minute just to watch xiaojun's pretty expressions as he gasped and moaned and desperately tried to not lift his hips to bury himself deeper into you.

"there you go, darling," you praised, "stay still for me, alright?"

you began to lift yourself off him, just small movements because you knew he was so close.

"please, more," xiaojun groaned, dizzy from the unfamiliar heat of your pussy, "please, mommy, harder."

you built up a steady rhythm pretty quickly, with the sting from your previous orgasm quickly dissipating into pleasure.

"please, please can i cum?" xiaojun whined and you could see his abs clenching as he desperately tried to stave off his orgasm until he got permission, "please, please, mommy. i need to cum, it hurts."

"not until i cum first," you sang playfully, loving how much he was craving an orgasm, how drunk he seemed on pleasure.

"please, please can i touch you?" you heard from beside you as yangyang alerted you to his presence. "please can i make you cum, please?"

the eagerness in yangyang's voice and the way it cracked as he spoke made you melt and you quickly nodded your head, leaning back so that yangyang could climb next to you on the bed to rub quick circles on your clit while leaving quick kisses and bites over your shoulder and neck.

you could tell xiaojun was aching to cum, he wasn't used to this heat around him and he had his head thrown back onto the pillow with his nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth wide open, letting every sound tumble out unabashedly.

you didn't know what it was, maybe yangyang moved differently, pressed down harder, or maybe xiaojun jerked his hips up as you were distracted by his face but suddenly you were seeing stars as your orgasm hit you like a truck. you clenched around him, placing your hand just under xiaojun's adam's apple to steady yourself. the sudden tightness of the heat around him in conjunction with the subtle pressure of your hand launched xiaojun into a mind-blowing orgasm.

you continued clenching around xiaojun, just as yangyang continued his gentle pressure on your clit, until jun started whimpering in pain at the overstimulation.

you lifted yourself off xiaojun, settling yourself next to him as he evened out his breathing. peppering kisses all over his cheeks and neck, you asked, "feeling okay, sweetheart? feeling good, need some water?"

he shook his head lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and hoarsely whispering, "'m just sleepy, take care of yang."

yangyang was lying flat on his back behind you with his fingers dug deep into the sheets in anticipation. he'd been worked up for so long now that he felt like one gentle brush of your fingertips on his cock would send him tumbling headfirst into an orgasm.

straddling his shins, you slowly peeled off his sweats and underwear, pressing little open-mouthed kisses to each new inch of exposed skin.

"please," he begged, not quite sure what he was begging for, "need you."

"what do you need, puppy?" you enquired, lightly nipping his hipbone.

"need your mouth on me," he began, before quickly correcting himself, "need your mouth on my cock. 'm so hard for you, i have been for so long and i've been such a good boy for you."

you pretended to consider his words for a moment. yangyang's hips stuttered as you thoughtfully ran a fingertip down the prominent vein on the underside and hummed to yourself.

"you have been a good boy, yangie," you muttered into the skin of his upper thigh, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin there and watching his shoulders sag in relief before you took the head of his cock into your mouth.

you both knew he wouldn't last long, with his hips jerking up so violently that you had to throw your non-dominant arm across his waist to stop him.

"please can i come in your mouth?" he whined, hands pulling at the sheets, "please, mommy?"

you pulled off for just a second - time was of the essence, he was so close - to tell him that yes he could, before you took him back into your mouth. you looked up when you hear his tell-take, jumpy little 'ah-ah-ah' moans that signified an impending orgasm to see him with one hand on his throat, blushing furiously down his chest as he came in your mouth.

you swallowed quickly before wincing slightly at the taste and resolving to tell yangyang that he had to fix his diet if he wanted to continue cumming in your mouth. he lay boneless against the bed, curling slightly into the dip where xiaojun lay peacefully with his eyes still half-open.

"you look nice when you cum" xiaojun whispered in yangyang's direction.

"you could have seen me up close and personal if she didn't come home early." yangyang smiled cheekily, dodging the swat you gave his thigh.

as you wandered into the kitchen to get both boys a bottle of water, you wondered how you got so fucking lucky to have these two eager boys in your life.

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

punk rock princess

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; where spencer’s working on the final paper for his third phd meanwhile you take on the task of making sure he takes a break.

warnings; smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, sub!spence if you squint, nipple piercings;),

a/n; i’m not saying this is my fantasy but .. this is my fantasy,, inspired by this song, y’all know the drill. you don't have to listen while reading but i always love to set the vibe. lastly y/n doesn't have any mentioned features or looks besides piercings/tattoos,, the rest is all up to you:)

pls send in feedback!

***

A shiver crawled down your spine from the first squirt of dye hitting your scalp. The bubblegum pink shade being a change from the firey red which inhabited your head a mere 24 hours prior.

The process was muscle memory at this point. Brushing out your hair then parting and sectioning it off. However that was the only methodical part. The fun was in slapping on the dye, not a single worry about staining your hands or neck.

The sounds of heavy drums and bass guitar bounced off the walls in the bathroom of the small apartment. Even though the door was shut it wasn't enough to stop the sound from flowing into the living room where your boyfriend was working.

Spencer sat at the dining table, flipping through copious amounts of folders and books. His third thesis in the process of being written. The computer screen in front of him looking back with a mocking glow. Since apparently things had to be digital now.

Your feet padding on the wooden floor made him look up from the pages. Humming to the music as you walked into your bedroom. Then back out a few seconds later holding a towel and robe.

A small smile tugged across his face. Ever since you had moved in together he loved to watch your day to day actions. The way you played your music concerningly loud, your skincare routine which included cleaning your facial piercings. What fascinated him the most was that in the 13 months you’d been together he’d seen you dye your hair 7 times.

Not including any touch ups.

He stood from his place at the table, making his way to the bathroom. Two quick rasps on the door to check if you were decent. The action made you giggle.

“Come in!” you called, “I don’t know why you knock weirdo you’ve seen me naked plenty of times.”

A blush spread across his cheeks from both your words and your state of undress. His eyes tried to focus on the splotches of color on the counter, keeping the blood flowing to the head on his shoulders.

But it was hard when the sheer bralette you had on did very little to hide the metal bars in each of your breasts.

“Spence?” you said snapping a fingers in front of him.

He cleared his throat, eyes snapping to your face which held a smirk.

“Are uh those n-new?” he questioned, hand going to scratch the nape of his neck.

The usual silver balls at the end of the bars were now tiny jewell hearts. The color was a little hard to tell due to the material of your bra but from the change in your hair he could almost bet money they were also pink.

With swift hands you unclipped your bra and threw it on the closed toilet seat before turning to face him.

“Got them when I bought the dye yesterday,” you said pushing your boobs up with your hands, “You like?”

Spencer’s eyes were as big as saucers, frantically nodding, “Y-yeah they look nice.”

You dropped your hands to your hips, tugging off the shorts you had on. The wide brown eyes before you couldn’t get any bigger, trailing down your frame stopping to admire the bar in your belly button along with the ink which littered your ribs.

He watched as you got to your knees, turning on the bath faucet. You dipped your head under the water, a stream of pink filling the tub.

The slope of your spine bent over was a sight he'd seen more than enough times. He could pinpoint the beauty marks on your left shoulder, the small sun he sketched which ended up permanently on the back of your neck. But if he let his gaze drift a little further south he could see how deliciously the dark lace looked barley covering up your most intimate parts.

A smack to his calf got his attention.

“Earth to Spencer! Can you hand me the shampoo,” you asked which came out sounding a bit muffled.

He quickly scurried to the tub and reached over to grab the bottle, squeezing a bit of gel onto your open palm.

"I'm gonna go work on my thesis some more," Spencer said slowly shutting the door behind him.

Making his way back to the living room, he pulled a few files and sat down on the couch. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and red pen between his teeth and he stared in concentration.

They were the same words he had read over and over again. The lack of sleep causing a dull ache in his skull.

"You need to take a break love," you said walking over and sitting next to Spencer on the couch.

"I did take one," he argued back flipping through the file.

"Gawking at me before I shower for 2 minutes isn't a break," you said with a giggle, the warmth flooding back to his cheeks, "Cmon 25 minutes at least without a file in your hand. "

When he didn't respond you took matters into your own hands. Ripping the file from his grasp, earning a grumble of disapproval before you straddled his hips. Your arms circled his neck and your hands went straight to the back of his scalp, fingertips running in soothing motions.

"Isn't this so much better baby," you asked whispering in his ear.

He nodded quickly, staying silent as he let his actions speak louder. His large palms went right to your plush hips. Bucking up as he led you to grind yourself on his lap.

Letting his hands explore the material of your satin rope he could feel the lack of undergarments on your frame. Spencer dared to let his hands dip under the black fabric and take each one of your cheeks in the palm of your hand with a gentle squeeze.

You could feel his cock stiffening under you. If you looked down you'd probably be able to see a wet spot on his sweats, most likely a mix of your arousals.

Leaning forward you let your lips attack his neck, placing sloppy kisses sure to leave marks. The process of licking and biting making Spencer hold onto you tighter, almost as if he had his very own vampire to mark him up.

Trailing up to his ear you bit on the lobe before whispering, "Tell me what you need baby."

Lust filled brown orbs met your own as you each continued your steady grind.

"Please fuck me," he pleaded.

If only he knew how wrapped around his finger you were. As pretty as he sounded begging you'd give him anything.

You pulled the metal frames off his face, tossing them to the other side of the couch. He had complained one too many times about foggy glasses during sex. No matter how cute you thought he looked.

Your hands slid down his torso and reached to pull down his sweats. His precum soaked length was heavy in your hands. Pretty pink tip leaky and throbbing already. The first few pumps had whiny moans slipping from his lips, red from biting so hard.

"Unwrap me baby, it's all for you," you said tilting your head down, motioning to the strings holding your robe together.

Quickly he let his slender fingers go to the ends, a swift tug and it was like opening a gift on Christmas. Leaning forward he let his lips wrap around one of your nipples. A strangled moan leaving your mouth from the stimulation.

With a raise of your hips you lined his cock with your opening before sliding down. You both sighed at the same time, the feeling of him stretching you out and your warm walls hugging his length was just too good.

Slowly you rocked your hips testing the waters, soft gasps and curses left your lips. You could feel very vein and inch stuffed inside you.

Spencer on the other hand was having an out of body experience, there wasn't an inch of your skin which was left untouched. Unkissed. After you were settled he raised his hips meeting you halfway with each thrust.

"You're doing so well baby," you cooed down at him, "You love when I ride you hm? Best fucking seat in the house."

His eyes shut closed in pleasure as your pace quickened, "Love it so much. So so pretty," he mumbled out.

His arms pulled you close again. Chest to chest as you continued your movements. Your lips met in a lazy kiss, panting in each others mouths when you ran out of air.

You could feel him pulsating inside you. The iron grip he had on your hips as he helped drive you up and down on his cock was sure to feel sore the next day. His shoulders were sure to have corresponding crescent marks from your nails digging in.

"Touch me Spence m'so close love," you said breathlessly.

One of his hands fell down to the space where you both connected. Skilled fingers rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in quick circular motions.

Loud moans escaped your lips. Your head fell back to the familiar junction of his neck and shoulder, biting the skin in order to stifle your noises of pleasure.

"Y/n I can't hold it any longer, please cum with me," he whimpered out.

Nodding your head you grabbed onto the back of his neck, "Right behind you baby. Let go for me, I got you."

With a few more upward thrusts you felt him pull you down onto his cock, warmth spreading in your tummy. The feeling of his seed filling you up and his euphoric groans sent you over the edge.

You both rode out your orgasms, swiveling hips and satisfactory sighs of release leaving your lips.

After a few minutes of content silence listening to the music still flowing through the hall you moved to get up, the sticky mess between your thighs less than comfortable.

Warm arms kept you in place, denying your movement.

"Spence I gotta clean up," you said trying to push yourself off his chest.

"If I remember correctly you said at least 25 minutes and from my calculations I have 3 minutes and 38 seconds left of cuddle time," the lanky man under you said matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes, sighing but resting your head back on his shoulder, "If I get a UTI thats 3 minutes and 38 seconds of me playing screamo in your ear at full volume."

With one last squeeze he kissed the side of your head, the scent of ammonia only sightly bothering him, "Worth it."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #chellewrites

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avintagekiss24 · 3 years

Text

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #5k...holy god

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

headspace, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You try so hard, so very hard to not let Jeon Jungkook have the effect he has on you. You have things to do. But you’re always in his arms again, because you can’t stop thinking about him and he knows it.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, fingering, lil bit of spanking, doggy, hair-pulling, cock warming); PWP; softdom!Jungkook

this post, basically + I found a mysterious hickey on my neck and idk where it came from and it stayed there for days at first i wasn’t going to post this, but who knows, maybe you all want to know what happens in my head when JK is out here looking that good. maybe this is what you’re thinking too, lmao

"Ah, Jungkook, w-wait!"

Already all up in your face, pressing you against the wall, grabbing your thighs and sinking his fingers into them, lifting you up, up.

"Wait for what?" was Jeon Jungkook's hot whisper into your neck. "What am I waiting for, after you look at me like that?"

"I... I didn't..."

"You did."

He planted your legs around his waist, forcing you to grab his shoulders so you wouldn't fall, gripping the black linen fabric, his dangling silver earrings brushing against your silver rings, knuckles, and the backs of your hands. He reached up and pushed your head down to make you stare into his dark brown eyes.

"You looked at them all with a smile, but your eyes lingered on me."

Fuck, his eyes were so pretty.

The fucking shape, so fucking sexy with the way the upper lid curved downward a little in the inner corner, fanning out to that roundness, then his lashes flaring upwards at the end. Paired with that intense gaze and it was a deadly combination.

"Lie to my face. Try it."

His voice was deep but gentle, pinning you between the wall and himself, hardness surrounding your softness. You gazed straight into those dangerous eyes.

"You're going to keep trying, aren't you?"

His pink lips curved into a smirk. "Yes."

His hands went back down, sliding under your red velvet skirt, squeezing your bare thighs. Drumming upwards slowly, sinking his fingers into your ass.

"I told you to stop annoying me."

He kneaded your ass slowly. "You did. And yet I still have the key. You haven't changed the locks to keep me out," he purred, leaning in, pressing his hard chest on yours. Even through the cropped white sweatshirt and his black linen shirt you could feel him, feel his strength and his power over you. "Shall I just stay here from now on? Since you so obviously want me here."

"J-Jungkook..."

Eyes on yours, eyebrow cocked.

"Go ahead and say it. Tell me to get out. Tell me you don't want me," he breathed onto your chin, nails digging into your ass. "Tell me your lies."

"Shut up."

You tilted your head and pressed your lips to his, one hand sliding up to hold his head in place as you kissed him hard, his smirk into your kiss. For such a taunting mouth, he had a lovely kiss, capturing your lips gently, tongue flitting between them. You were sliding down the wall and Jungkook shoved you back up, stepping closer to the wall to sandwich you harder into it, breaking the kiss.

"I have things to do..." you murmured, pushing his long hair back and tucking it behind his ear. Jungkook continued smirking at you, amused by your verbal monologue. "I'm busy, I'm tired, there are people waiting on me..." His dark eyes sparkled with danger. "And you always make me want you instead."

One of his eyebrows quirked. "What a terrible predicament."

You narrowed your eyes. "You're so troublesome."

He smiled, and despite your frustrations, it was a genuine one. It was hard to stay mad at Jungkook.

"I know."

He kissed you this time, making you tingle all over, moaning softly as his tongue played with yours. With a chuckle, he picked you up and leaned you against him, forcing you to clamp your thighs around his waist and your arms to wrap around his neck as he carried you, far too easily for your liking. Jungkook was a strong man. In too many ways, honestly.

"We can just play for a little while," Jungkook purred. "You love playing with me, don't you?"

"Too much, I think..."

He turned and sat on the bed, adjusting your knees to be on either side of him, kissing down your neck, fingertips sliding under your panties.

"Someone is going to think I'm obsessed with you," you puffed, slight irritation in your tone as he pulled up, shoving your panties in between your ass.

"You aren't?" he teased.

"You want me to be," you retorted. Jungkook was squeezing your ass, spreading it out, digging his fingers into it.

"Yes, I do." He licked up your neck and you shivered. His lips kept going up, chaste kisses compared to the manhandling of your ass. Your hair fluffed as he breathed into your ear. "Want this pretty head to be full of thoughts of me." His deft fingers slipped under, stroking the slick wetness. "We always have such fun when you give in to me, don't we?"

Fuck, why did he have to have such a beautiful voice, so rich and so much depth, taking you away to his world?

"And you always, always give in to me."

Two fingers into your pussy, sinking into wet warmth, your eyelids fluttering, arms wrapping around his head, fingers tangling in his black locks, gasping as he thrust them in and out of you, whispering your name hotly in your ear, licking it lightly every time he buried himself all the way to his knuckles.

"P-Please, Jungkook... let me breathe a l-little..."

His head dipped down and you buried your nose into his hair, smelling the sweet scent of product he used, dark stands curled around your fingers and silver rings, pleasure swirling up from your core. He was so good. So fucking good and he probably didn't even know exactly how good he was.

"Just breathe me," Jungkook said to your neck, nipping at the space between your collarbones, leaving small red marks. "I'll be your oxygen. I'll be anything you want, everything you want, make you love me more and more until there's no one else but me."

And then his teeth sank down, biting your neck possessively, to the right and above your collarbone, your head falling back to give him more space, increasing his pace in your pussy so that the wet smacking sounds became louder to match your cries. Deep, hard, rough, just the way you liked it, and one glance down found Jungkook's dark eyes boring into you, chocolatey and heavenly, stubbornly telling you that he wasn't going to give up.

"Jungkook," you hissed. "You're making me crazy."

His pink tongue licked against his bite as he grinned.

You sucked in a breath and pushed his face into your chest, biting your lip to muffle your whine as you came, muscles tensing around his fingers, massaging them roughly as your juices soaked down. Did your skin run hot due to embarrassment or was it just the layers of clothes? Either way, you felt him chuckle as he pulled his fingers out, your panties snapping against your drenched slit uncomfortably. His other hand cupped around your head, tilting it to the side. Your cheek rested on his hair. His glistening fingers in your view, spreading out with strings of your juices in between his joints.

Yup, it was embarrassment.

Jungkook put his fingers in his mouth and you didn't look, cheeks burning hot. He nuzzled your neck, lapping at his mark on you.

"Hm. People are going to see that one," he purred. "That's good."

"People at work are going to think I'm unprofessional," you mumbled.

"Take off your clothes then. I'll mark you in other places."

I'm already marked all over by you, you thought to yourself. You twirled your fingers around the black strip of fabric around his neck, undoing the tie and slipping it down, watching the scarf trail around the curve, a shape you stared at far too much and his mischievous smirk wasn't helping.

"You going to use this on me?" Without knowing it, your voice had become smokey and hazy, matching his playfulness. "Is that why you wore it?"

His large hand closed around yours, finger by finger, still a little damp from his mouth and your juices. Smirking with that flirtatious spark in his eye, maybe innocent at one point but certainly not now because he invaded your head and did it on purpose, caressing your knuckles as he spoke.

"You know I can be anything for you," Jungkook drawled, eyebrow arching gracefully. "In this space, I'm all yours." He pulled the tie out of your fingers slowly, centimeter by centimeter of black linen slipping from your fingers, followed by your sanity with his silvery voice. "If it's what you want, I'll do it."

Every time.

Every fucking time.

And how could you be mad at those eyes, those lips, that face, inviting you to worship him and love him?

You swore there was a time before Jeon Jungkook, but now you couldn't remember and he wasn't letting you remember, pulling you to the center of the bed, taking off your white sweatshirt, yanking down your red velvet skirt, letting you tug at the buttons of his black shirt, pushing it down his shoulders, kissing the exposed skin, his taste flooding your mouth. His hands on your back, digging his nails in, raking down, pleased by the way you shuddered against him, unhooking your bra as you unzipped his slacks. It just wasn't fair, not fair at all how handsome and cute Jungkook was, how hard his muscle was and how soft his touch was, the way he balanced his fingertips on your chin and tipped it up, kissing you again, your name in his lips, melting your ice with his fire, gasping softly as your fingers skimmed his ass and thighs, drawing patterns in his skin.

"I love your kisses," he panted. "They're a perfect combination. Erotic and needy and demanding."

Closer, his hands sliding down, the lightest pressure, guiding you down onto the pillows, the scarf still wrapped around his right hand.

"And the sounds you make." Dropping his head, kissing the curve of your breasts, nudging your silver necklaces away, biting at times, making you moan and bury your fingers in that soft hair once more, black against your silver rings. "Want you to make them over and over again for me, only me..."

His lips around your nipple, tongue so soft but sucking so hard, your back arcing and his eyes on his bites, knowing they'd be there for a while, and yet you could tell he still wanted to do more, wanted his permanent mark on you.

"Jungkook..."

His piercing gaze on you as he detached his lips, switching sides, listening but not stopping. Wrapping his tongue around the hardened nub, sending shocks of pleasure through your nerves, long hair messy and tangled from your fingers. You chewed on your lip, curling your fingers into his scalp, not trying to hurt him but unable to contain the apprehension within you. His lips parted seeing your expression, brushing against your nipple as he spoke.

"Don't look so guilty."

Hands on your hips, pulling you down to his face, the scent of your own nipples heavy in his breath as he laid kisses on your cheeks.

"I don't look this nice just for me, you know. You have to appreciate me."

Imprinting his touch all over you, nails scratching up your skin, fingerprints from his grip, nipping at your swollen lips.

"I'll help you feel good. I promise."

All I can think about is you. You're the worst, Jungkook.

You took the black scarf from him, unwrapping it from his hand. Backed up, feeling his eyes on you, nearly black with lust, watching you collect your hair back and twist the strip around and around, his smirk growing with every second as you tied it off.

"Convenient."

Jungkook knew what you wanted, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you around, making you scramble and gasp at his forcefulness, your silver necklaces hitting you in the chest. On hands and knees now, your favorite, his hand splayed across your back and pressing your shoulder blades down, other hand clutching your panties and yanking, moaning as he watched your juices drip down, snapping against your thighs.

"That's a pretty pussy," he breathed, leaning in. You whimpered as his fingers slid in once again, three this time, fuck, almost too many, stretching you out. You clenched around them, making Jungkook moan. "Mmm, fuck yes, so fucking tight, my cock is going to feel so good inside you…"

He found what he was looking for and nudged your hand with it, the sharp edges of the foil pocket tapping against your rings.

"Reach back for me. Get me hard for you."

"But I haven’t taken off my–"

"Shh, I still have my underwear on, go ahead."

You bit your lip and extended your hand back awkwardly, careful with your rings, palming his semi-hard cock through his boxer briefs as he shoved his fingers into you repeatedly, straightening his back to watch.

"Yes, that's it," Jungkook groaned, putting more force into it, earning the moans he was waiting for, your muscles tensing around his fingers, obscene, sloppy smacks of your viscous juices tainting the room. "Love watching your ass bounce, so fucking sexy..."

He liked watching you struggle too, hand grasping his cock and rubbing the wet spot around the head, jerked around by his fingers, mouth open and unable to catch your breath, his name a dry rasp between curses.

"Jungkook, a-ah... please..."

So hard, throbbing under your fingertips, straining for release.

"Want it... please... w-want your cock to ruin me..."

You heard him chuckle, sliding his fingers out and striking your clit. You yelped sharply, turning into breathless cries as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, calluses adding to the friction.

"How can I say no to that?" he drawled. "You want to make me feel good too, hm?"

"Y-Yes, ah, fuck, Jungkook, please..."

You dropped your hand, clutching the sheets, screaming into them, pleasure overtaking you with a sharp throb, hips shaking with effort as your orgasm crashed down, rolling your hips into his touch. Dragged out, eyes rolling back, moan trickling from your lips as he pressed his fingers into your engorged clit, feeling it pulse violently as you rode your high.

"So fucking hot," he breathed. "You want me that bad?"

There was no point in lying now.

"Fuck, yes I do, fuck."

Jungkook snickered, flicking his fingers against your sensitive opening before removing it. You flinched, hearing the sound of the condom being torn open. Your name fell from his lips, teasing, warm, too much familiarity.

"What?"

One hand on your hip, the other smacking your ass. You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself.

"You have a pretty back."

"Oh… Thanks?"

And then a high-pitched moan tore through you as he suddenly filled you up with one quick thrust, tensing every muscle in your body, Jungkook groaning with effort, knowing you would tell him to stop if it was too much, but you weren’t telling him because, even if you were tight, you were also so wet that he entered with minimal effort. It was easy for him, slipping in all the way to the base, his crotch slapping into your ass. Too easy. Fuck, you liked him too fucking much.

“Such a tiny little pussy,” he purred, squeezing your flesh, inhaling sharply as you fitted around him. “You need a cock to stretch you out, don’t you?”

You wiggled your ass into his hips. “Jungkook…”

“Hand, please.”

You whimpered and presented your right hand. His fingers curled around your forearm, gripping tight.

“Hold on now.”

His left hand dug into your hip as he began to fuck you, hard, satisfying, penetrating thrusts of pure power that made you cry out, slamming your left hand into the headboard, pushing back to hold yourself in place and prevent your body from sliding up because he was fucking you so hard, and it was so good, so perfect, your wetness squelching around him, the feeling of suddenly being almost empty then full, empty then full, power and pleasure. Why did he feel so good? Why did it feel so good, uncontrollable moans and pants of his name as he took you from behind?

“You’re holding me so well, fuck, so nice and tight for me,” Jungkook hissed, hand leaving your hip and you knew what was coming, your hips moving of their own accord, meeting his rough thrusts as his left hand grasped your ponytail, wrapping it around his palm, tugging slightly, forcing your head to lift, your silver necklaces jangling against your breasts, whimpering almost pathetically, but it was so good, so good, the little jolts of pain and his cock pounding you and you meeting him, core tightening at his insistent gentle yanks.

“Fuck, so sexy,” he muttered. “Such soft hair, pretty wrists, plump ass fucking me back, aren’t you just the perfect little plaything for me?” His words seeping into you, smokey and hazy with lust, the depth taking you under, drowning in your orgasm as the pleasure rocked through you, and he didn’t stop, simply fucking you through it with a hiss, your name an immoral drawl, paired with the lewd squelching of how fucking wet you were for Jeon Jungkook. “How can I go anywhere else when this pussy needs me so bad, hm? When you demand to be fucked and wrecked by this cock?”

“Jungkook, ah, fuck!”

“That’s it, keep cumming for me, cum all over my cock, fuck, feels so fucking good when you clench like that.”

You were going to lose your fucking mind, with his hand on your hair and his other dropping your forearm, grabbing your hip once again so he could fuck you harder, deeper, the bed shaking with the force. You tried to bury your face into the pillows, but couldn’t because of his grip on your hair, so you just wailed out his name, probably far too loud, tightening all around his entire length, oh fuck, tipping over the edge once more, so wet you could feel it trickling down your clit and thighs, the violent smacking of flesh to flesh causing thick drops to hit your sheets.

Everything smelled like sex. Everything was sex.

And there was nothing in your head but Jeon Jungkook’s cock ruining you.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck me, you’re so fucking good!”

You heard Jungkook moan your name, ramming his hips into you one last time as he came, cock jerking as he filled the condom with strings of cum. His grip on your ponytail tensed and he yanked your head up, forcing you to arch your back and rut your ass into him, elongating the pleasure.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

“Shh…”

Your hands poised under you, your necklaces stuck to your chest, trapped in the uncomfortable position, squeezing him periodically. He groaned at the sensation, pressed against your ass.

“Feels so fucking good,” he murmured. “You still gonna act like you don’t want me?”

Your cheeks flared with heat. He released your hair and reached around, cupping your chin, pushing you to him as he met you halfway, his lips against your ear. You could feel the warmth radiating off his face, beads of sweat brushing against your ear and neck. Breath so hot it was making your pulse race. He was slipping out a little, but your pussy tightened around him. He snickered right into your ear. You shivered, a low moan leaving your throat.

“… Don’t…”

His tongue slid out and traced your earlobe. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t… do this to me…”

Lips right on your hot, hot skin, on fire for Jeon Jungkook, his whisper always in your thoughts.

“Have to. You still want me, don’t you?”

Fuck.

“… Yeah.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Anything at All (boba fett x fem!reader) (part one) (part two)

Rated: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, even mORE thrONE fucking, oral sex (f receiving), boba’s a biter, unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap thAT wiLLY), vaginal fingering, explicit language, boba is a grouchy dom kwjhgjh

a/n: anyway I think yall forget im a writer and not just a Certified Clown, but anywAy here we be. HAPPY NEW YEARS ya FILTHY anIMALS im so thankful for all yall and im glad I can provide you with some entertainment kaejhejhr

You haven’t seen Boba Fett in days.

Called away on business you’ll never be included in or know the fine details about. It’s not kept away from you because he doesn’t trust you, or thinks you’re a mindless idiot—no—he’d rather keep his princess occupied with prettier things. No need to concern yourself with the the underbelly of what he now rules.

You’re not upset about it—you’re not really a fan of watching petty squabbles that’ll result in someone’s chest being imploded by a blaster. You’ve seen enough of it in the cantina, and while you were never the one tasked with clearing the bodies out—it was still mildly traumatizing. Eh—no need to dwell.

You’ve got other shit to do anyway.

There’s a seemingly endless zigzag of secret hallways and dusty rooms within the palace, teeming with strange knickknacks and ancient artifacts that are more than likely cursed. Definitely haunted—but it doesn’t stop you from exploring or sorting through the useless junk. Besides—Fennec stayed behind, acting as your glorified babysitter for the past few cycles—ensuring your safety from both whoever dared step foot into the palace and the ghosts. What a lovely woman.

Speaking of which—you hear her sigh and shuffle, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she leans back against a dusty crate. She picks at the dirt beneath her fingernails, lazily glancing up every now and then to check that you haven’t eviscerated yourself on a piece of scrap metal or something. Lucky for her, all you found today was an abandoned crate of old datapacs shoved in the back corner from what you assumed to be some sort of office. Yesterday you found a sword that was promptly confiscated.

“I’d be careful snooping around in those,” Fennec warns as your fingers find the on switch. “You never know what sorta data the Hutts were keeping here.”

You shrug and wave away her concern, reading over the information that flickers across the screen. “I think I’ll be ok…See?” You pointedly wave the datapac in her direction. “This one is about the finances. Spooky.”

Fennec rolls her eyes followed by an amused smirk that ghosts over her lips. You toss it aside and root around some more, pulling out another datapac. The blue hologram flickers to life and as you decipher the little lines of text your face falls. Each line is a name, previous and recently bought or traded people that crossed the threshold of the palace. Fennec was right. This isn’t fun anymore.

“These are…slaves.” Your lips curls in disgust. “How is this still not outlawed? It’s barbaric.”

“You’re not from Tatooine, are you?” Fennec asks as she meanders over and wrestles the datapac out of your hands. She switches it off and tosses it back into the dusty crate. You huff and cross your arms over your chest.

“No,” you agree. “Im from Arkanis. But even there we don’t have slaves.”

Fennec squats beside you, her elbows resting over her bent knees. She playfully taps your shoulder with the back of her hand and quirks a brow. “What’d I tell you—snooping doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You roll your eyes and shrug, a frown still etched on your lips. Fennec sighs, rubs her chin and then reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. A flush blooms up your cheeks at the gentle touch.

“You have a sensitive soul, Kitten,” she chuckles, poking at your cheek that you’re certain she can feel the heat emirate from. “You said you were from Arkanis—tell me about it. Why come to Tatooine?”

Your lips quirk in a tiny smile as you bat away her pointer finger, saving your cheek from another poke. “Hey—not everyone likes rain ok?” You huff. “Besides, Tatooine wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

She nods. Unsure what exactly to tell her--a silence ensues. It’s not terribly awkward but it’s enough that makes you jumpy and itching to move on from this room now stained with information you weren’t prepared on finding. You stand suddenly, brush yourself off and mutter under your breath about finding something less…heartbreaking.

Fennec jumps up as well and when you leave the room her hand clamps over your shoulder. She spins you around and levels her gaze onto you. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. You know that right?”

Your brows furrow. “I know—don’t worry, I want to stay.”

Her head bobs with a satisfied nod. “We’d miss you if you left. You’re nice to have around.”

You blush again and mumble out a thank you, shooting off into another unexplored location to escape Fennec’s knowing smirk. Maker—you’re embarrassing.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Boba returns later that afternoon—the shadow of his familiar figure stretches around the curved stairway, the purposeful stomps of his boots against the carved steps following with it. Your heart flutters within your chest, like a distressed creature with wings as you jump from your makeshift seat.

You come face to face with Boba. Or, helmet rather—whatever.

The smell of hot metal and dry air sticks to him as he paces closer, closing the small gap that separates him from you. You’re frozen beneath the heavy weight of his stare behind the void like black of his visor as he plants himself firmly before you, close enough that his cuirass could brush your chest if he puffed out his own chest.

“Hi…” You smile, a fragile vale of uncertainty blanketing the pair of you—still attempting to feel out his mood, sort through the general gruffness of his personality and gage wether or not you could reach out and touch him. The helmet is a tricky thing to read and his body language gives nothing away. You swallow your nerves take a leaping risk.

“Let me see your face.” You murmur. You move your hands up to the edges of his helmet at a snail’s pace, giving him ample time to slip through your fingers—wedge a sharp thorn between whatever it is that you’ve built and name it for what it is.

He doesn’t choose that option.

With a low hum, Boba dips his helmet closer to your outstretched fingertips instead. The metal is cool under your palms as they fold over the sides of the helmet and pull up. The metal whispers against his skin like wind through tall grass as the point of his chin peeks out, followed by his lips, his nose, and finally those golden brown eyes. They glitter with amusement as you release a shaky breath, the helmet the only thing acting as a barrier as you clutch it near your sternum. His mouth quirks when you blush and glance away—focusing on the little silvery nicks the green paint refused to cover. You rub your thumb over the blaster pockmark that dents the metal—you frown. You hope that wasn’t recent.

Boba gently pries the helmet out of your hands and sets it onto the armrest of his throne. He purrs your name and pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your attention back to him. Your eyes flit up his scars—your breath catching in your throat as he smiles.

“Hello, princess,” he says—the grit and timbre of this new nickname jumpstarting your heart to skip and choke on its own tireless beat.

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Boba, I’m not—“

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence—

Boba spreads his fingers over your jaw, tilts your head and swoops down to meet your lips in a dizzying kiss. Hard, hungry, victorious, breathless—like he’s spent years fighting and only now takes a moment to slow down—drown in the softness of your lips and skin. His hands claw at your arms, your clothes, your hair—like you’re the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the shadows of his past and some hidden horror that nips at his heels. He kisses like a man terrified that this will be brief, intangible and something that’ll abandon him.

He trails after your lips when you break away—your lungs heaving for precious air. He doesn’t let you go far, ensuring your positioning by tangling his fist into your hair at the nape of your neck and scraping his lips up your cheek, enticing you into another kiss. You tilt you chin to meet him with equal fervor, whining as his warm tongue curls sweetly into your mouth. His existence fills your veins with liquid silver—evokes the bloom of crackling star fire beneath the cavity of your ribcage. Every thought starts with him and ends with your heart aching to burst into a million tiny shards.

The next time you part, Boba is the first one to pull away. He cups your cheeks between his weathered hands and plants a tender kiss just below your hairline. You swear you can feel the skin buzz from the touch—like every atom in your being was solely created for him to command and conquer. You sigh and lean into his palm.

“I missed you.” You admit with a small smile.

Boba leans closer and presses another kiss to your forehead. “And I you, little one.”

“I got worried, y’know,” you continue, your fingers tapping a trail up the front of his chest plate. You trace the repainted insignia with your fingernail and flash him a coy smirk. “You never called—thought maybe you found a new pretty thing.”

He grunts, shakes his head and sweeps a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Hilarious—my hands are full enough with you hounding me every five minutes.”

You puff out your bottom lip and feign offense, mumbling some lame whine like a petulant brat. Boba snorts and crowds closer. He presses his gloved thumb between your furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles and then cups your cheeks between both palms. You freeze as he carefully knocks the crown of his forehead onto yours—it’s sweet.

An excited smile splits when he moves his head to your right, the syllables of each word rolling off his tongue sweeter than spiced honey. “I’ll make it up to you, pretty thing,” he whispers by your ear, his warm breath disturbing the fine hairs there. “How does that sound, hm?”

That’s not even a question you would ever dream of denying—you quickly nod. “I’d like that.”

Boba drops his hands from your face and peels himself away. His eyes trickle down your figure—calculative and analytic—planning out each move to pick apart the entirety of your being. “Take everything off.”

You comply without a second thought—slipping free from the breezy cotton and scratchy poncho you stole from a storage room. The fabric pools at your feet in an unceremonious pile—leaving you bare for him. Despite the sickening dry heat that pollutes the air and causes beads of sweat to gather at your hairline—goosebumps rush up your arms under Boba’s piercing stare.

Boba’s eyes flicker to the throne. A feral grin tugs at his lips. “Sit.”

This time you hesitate. Did he…? No—you must’ve heard wrong—

He quirks a brow and gestures to the throne. “Well? Are you going to listen?”

Your tongue slides over your chapped lips. “O-ok..I just—never mind…”

Scrounging up some courage, you gingerly seat yourself onto Boba Fett’s throne. Chills race along the entirety of your body as the freezing metal seeps into your warm flesh. You squirm and beat away the urge to wrap your arms around yourself—he wouldn’t like that—probably would take it as some sort of insult anyway—

All your current discomforts melt away in a fraction of a breath as Boba Fett lowers himself to one knee, and then the other. A king kneeling before his very own throne for someone like you. Someone who’ll be lost to the pages of history and the endless swirl of galaxies and supernovas—you’re nobody to the world, but to him you’re everything. You inhale a shaky breath as a strange stroke of pride alights through your body as he peels off his gloves and maneuvers himself flush against the edge of the throne and between your thighs.

Boba bows forward and slips his calloused hands around your ribcage to tug you closer. His lips land over your collar bone, slides his tongue over the protrusion then sinks his teeth into you there. You gasp as he slides lower, leading a trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake. Boba moves his palms, up and in to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples. A whimper escapes past your lips as he catches the pebbled bud between his lips, the hard enamel of his teeth scraping over it—meant to tease. Your nails dig into the fabric bunched around his neck as he moves on to suck your other nipple, the cooling saliva sending a chill down your spine as it dries.

You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core. You’re already wet—worked up and impatient. You roll your head back onto your shoulders and bite your lip. If you complain and tell him to hurry up you’re scared he’ll leave you like this—deny you that pleasure you’ve been craving for days.

It feels like ages before he moves on from your breasts, now smattered with bruises and his saliva, and carves out a blinding path down your sternum, your belly, then your navel with his tongue. Boba circles your bellybutton—you force down the ticklish nerves and stay still for him.

You don't mean to jump as his rough hands drop over your knees. You barely get out the first syllable of an apology when his hands slip up your bare thighs, curl around the swell of your ass and yank. You squeak as the edge of the throne bites into your tailbone, the majority of your lower half forced to lean on Boba’s shoulders and his greedy hands. He kisses the inside of your knee—you jolt with an airy gasp.

Boba picks up his head and smirks. “Look at me when I taste you, little one.”

Mouth suddenly drier than dust, you nod dumbly.

He hums, satisfied with your weak response and continues on.

Boba’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver. They sweep up towards the apex of your thighs, settling close enough to reach your aching center. You know he’s there—it’s impossible to ignore him—but you curse anyway when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They steadily work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch.

“Patience, princess,” he rumbles, shifting his weight to better reach your cunt. “Maker—you’re dripping already.”

There's a moment just before Boba commits, his face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, hot breath, anticipation gripping your chest. And then he licks a broad stripe from the base of your pussy all the way up to your swollen clit.

His mouth Is searing, his tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his head. He grunts against you as you drag him closer—greedy for everything he deems you worthy of. Boba’s mouth pinpoints around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter—it’s a struggle not to shut them completely. He asked you to watch after all…

He then trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your entrance, skips over it completely to lick at the wetness dripping lower that threatens to pool onto the throne or the floor. He opens his mouth wide and hums in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life.

“Fuck—Boba,” you cry, canting your hips into his mouth.

It's perfect. So fucking good.

The tips of his thick fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the fluttering ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness, glinting in the low light. With a smirk, Boba thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that he refuses to stray from. It leaves you just hovering along the sharp edge of oblivion, the catch of his knuckles and calloused skin along your walls pure torture. Stars—he’s going to be the death of you—

Your hips arch into him, trying to urge him to go faster. Instead, he slowly retracts his fingers and removes his mouth. You gasp in frustration as your cunt clenches around thin air. It almost hurts.

“I told you to be patient,” Boba chuckles, massaging a warm palm along the outside of your thigh. “You’re behaving like a brat.”

“I’m—I—I’m sorry—“ You wheeze, trying to rope in some self control that fled a long time ago. Your wits are scrapped thin as you throw your hand against the back of the throne. You don’t care that he’s rendered you to a begging mess, your words slurred and hardly understandable. You're so close to diving off the edge—so near to those plush lips and weathered hands that’ll surely become your salvation. "Please! P-please—I need..."

You're babbling as he drags his fingertips over your thigh, skims over your cunt, and traces a pattern into your opposite thigh. "Boba. Fuck. I pro-promise to be better—I can do it. Please—“

He complies.

Two fingers are thrust up into your dripping cunt, curving so deliciously into something that feels like unrefined plasma bolts. His mouth dips down and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight.

You're flying off you’re high, faster than a fucking speeder with tampered gears. You cum onto his tongue with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Boba keeps licking you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Stars implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jetfuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Boba, and feel the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue.

Your brain swims in hazy bliss and fuzzy pleasure as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it hurts. You're too sensitive. Your nerves are rubbed raw and you're still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. He takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a blade against flesh. Your thighs quiver around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves that wrenches a cry from you. Your orgasm floods through you veins, bursting and rupturing every cell in your being. This one is blistering—charrs all the way to the fucking bone. Your core pulses around Boba’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease into a dull throb. You whimper and push at his forehead because he's still licking at your cunt. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick.

Boba leaves absolutely no time to completely float down from your high—you squeak as his hands shoot up to grab at your hips, wrenching you off the throne and all but throwing you onto the same floor he kneels on. You flash him a dopey grin, letting your legs fall open for his enjoyment—

“Such a filthy princess,” he chuckles, extending a hand to cover your knee, bending it further out to expose more of your flushed cunt. “You taste sweeter than star cherries.”

You preen at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It earns you an amused huff. Boba scrapes the hand resting on your knee to the apex of your legs, thumb and forefinger gently parting your delicate, slick folds. You bite back a keening whine, utterly exposed to him as he slips the hood back from the throbbing knot of nerves at the top of your slit. Too raw. Your pussy clenches involuntarily, causing everything from your toes to your hips stiffen. Boba hums in delight at his handiwork.

“Stars, Boba—please…” You beg, voice breathy and soft like whips of spider silk. Boba makes a sound that oozes with smug pleasure, teasing your sore clit with unadulterated glee. “Please,” you hear yourself whimper over your pounding pulse, shifting in his grasp and praying he’ll put an end to this sickly sweet torture.

“Pretty little thing, begging for my cock…” He rasps, darkly threaded sin and the husky scrape of the gray sea licking up jagged, black rock. You’re certain he could talk you into unraveling at the seams, untouched and putty in his hands for him to mold and shape. Boba’s other hand sweeps up your sternum, his fingertips dancing along the mythosaur pendant coiled around your neck. He then curls his thick fingers around the base of your throat and ever so lightly squeezes. “Poor baby—all worked up after a few days…I’ll fix that for you.”

Before you can fully process, he grabs the swell of your hip and flips you onto your belly. The air from your lungs is knocked out of your chest, the abrasive sandstone bitting into the points of your elbows and patches of your skin and no doubt leaving behind irritated scrapes. You hear the shuffle of fabric and then Boba suddenly seizes your hips and arches them into his crotch, grinding the deliciously hard length of his cock through your wet folds. Throbbing and just as desperate as you are, Boba refrains from flinging you into another bout of teasing. He slicks himself up with your arousal and drags the tip of himself to your clenching center and sinks that first, glorious inch inside of you.

With a low groan, Boba pushes in deeper, watching your tight hold flutter and accommodate his thick length. It’s the same as before during that night in the cantina—dreadfully full and all but bursting at the seems. The gentle rocks of his hips and gravelly praise eventually allow him to finally bottom out, his sharp hipbones resting against the swell of your ass as you shudder and groan. Fuck—

You can feel him in your fucking guts.

Boba grants you a brief moment to settle and then—it’s catastrophic.

Your jaw drops in a silent scream when he pulls back, all the way to the tip and slams back into your tight heat. Boba’s hand tangles into your hair at the nape of your neck and and pulls, forcing your back into a sharp arch. The action leaves more of you open, somehow pressing in even further. He hits so deeply within you—stars it feels like he’s splitting you open and laying you bare.

His dark chuckle resonates above you—a bit breathy as he tames his own frazzled nerves. “Shit—that feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

Your incoherent babble makes him laugh as he gives your hair a playful tug, all the while he never stops thrusting in and out of you. You wiggle your hips, the slight shift makes it ache, and the sharp downward thrusts put delirious pressure on that patch of nerves that renders you dizzy. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s a tightly spooled cable, fraying and an inch away from snapping. Your gasping breaths pitch into airy squeaks as the fist twisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back just a bit more.

Boba lurches foreword, the nip of beskar a frigid shock to the bare skin of your back when he lays over you, his elbows caging you in close. His head drops onto your shoulder blade, pressing sloppy kisses over the arch of your throat and slope of your shoulder—without warning he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck. Maker save you—

The feral drag of Boba’s teeth digging into your sensitive flesh skin makes you squeeze around his cock—Boba answers with a soft growl that vibrates against the skin of your shoulder. Somehow he fucks into you harder, his pace becoming brutal. Your nails scrabble against the floor, searching for some sort of anchor as you wail under him.

It’s too much—fuck, you’re gonna implode. Pinned between the rough sandstone and the hand in in your hair, mixed with the sharp pain of his teeth marring your skin—you loose it. Sensing your peaking orgasm, Boba’s fingers wedge between your legs to toy with your clit. He rubs quick circles with two fingers as he purrs words of filth into your ear—how good his pretty thing is for him, how well you came for him, how tight you are.

“There you go, little one,” Boba says, his words like a tendril of dark smoke. “Cum for your king.”

His efforts are quickly rewarded as you shudder and lock up harder than durasteel beneath him. A blinding surge of vicious heat, knocks you clean off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs as your nails dig into the sandstone—trembling and grappling blindly for a foothold in your own head. The cold chest plate is a much needed anchor for the overwhelming intensity that threatens to drown you and bury you six fix under.

He bites down again when he cums, his hips digging into you with short, rough jabs. “Fuck—you take me so well.” You squirm, feeling his cock throb and spill into you, making the mess between your legs smear over your thighs. His thrusts stutter to a stop as he sighs deeply and pulls out, a mixture of his cum and your arousal spilling onto the floor. Boba huffs above you, drags a finger through your swollen folds and pushes it back inside of you. “Good girl.”

You shiver—reduced to a useless puddle with no intent from moving off the floor as Boba’s weight moves away. You could sleep here—that’s something completely plausible you think. Nice, warm dirt—

Boba purrs your name—the sound piquing your interest enough that you overcome the heaviness that’s settled in your body and move your head. He’s returned to his throne, cheeks a bit flushed and his chest rising and falling to recover precious air. You watch as Boba peels off his cuirass with practiced ease, and lays it with care onto the floor. He murmurs your name a second time and pats his lap, coaxing you off the floor.

You happily slither onto his thighs, exhausted and all too eager to be swept up into the warmth of his arms. He grunts as you tuck your head under his chin and cuddle into his chest, relishing the rough scrape of his palms folding over your shoulder and the outside of your thigh. His soft breaths tickle the top of your head paired with the quiet, but steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath your fingertips and ear pressed onto his sternum. Your eyes flutter shut and though a hushed silence falls over the room, there’s nothing to be said.

Boba tucks his nose into your hair and you smile, the slow speak of your heart unraveling into a lush garden of something new and brittle—like flakes of frost in the early morning sun. He’s more bruise than bleed nowadays—a wound closed then reopened and he promises nothing of a future beyond what you have in these moments. And yet—

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeach @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @cobbvader @maybege @clonewarslover55 @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c

#here we Go HERE we GO #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #the mandalorian #the mandalorian s2 #fennec shand #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #my writing

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lattechans · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: any romantic relationships between an elf and a human have dire consequences but you're still willing to try

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: elf!hyunjin x female reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff and a hint of angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: praising, piv, marking, nipple play (all in all pretty vanilla love making)

𝐚/𝐧: this is for the collab project created by @binniesthighs and wow i don't think i've ever written anything like this before but i'm quite proud of it! maybe i'll write fantasy more often from now on...

₁₈₊

you were taking notice of the scenery around you; the outline of the kingdom hazy from such a great distance. this place has become like your second home after many years of traveling. as a child, you were always a wanderer, so it surprised no one when you, as an adult, decided to go off and search for the ancient elven realms that only a few humans knew about.

the first time you met an elf was entirely by coincidence, and was the main reason you chose to look for more. hyunjin was his name, and he was the most ethereal being you had ever laid your eyes upon although you found all elves to be eerily beautiful creatures – hyunjin was different.

he had shoulder length dark brown hair, his eyes warm like caramel compared to those of his parents or the other elves, who looked more cold.

only one person truly knew about you and hyunjin, and she was the reason you were able to meet like this without constant concern for others finding out the true colors of your relationship. the two of you could only go so long sneaking around the kingdom, hiding together in the halls or stealing kisses in the library when someone could see you at any moment.

hyunjin knew that if the two of you were caught together like this, you’d be banished from the kingdom without hesitation and he would never be able to see you again.

you see, the elves had no problems with human visitors, nor even friendships. in fact, the royal family was once known for welcoming humans into their family; the queen had married a human decades before you or hyunjin were even born.

however, the times changed as the queen was betrayed by her husband, who stole one of the most treasured relics in the kingdom and killed many of the creatures who lived in the kingdom as he had fled. ever since then, no romantic relationships were allowed between elves and humans as they were believed to only bring wickedness and evil to the kingdom.

it goes without saying that ever since then, elves and humans alike had been punished for such relationships and although, for the humans the consequences were only banishment and shame, for the elves – the consequences were much worse. a true heartbreak would eventually kill an elf. this is why you needed a secluded place just for the two of you, safe from suspicious eyes.

a few months ago, you had approached the lady you had to thank for all this even being possible, aelvavorna, or aelva for short. she was one of the greatest wizards known in all of the realms, her powers stretched even to the human realm. however, even with such great power she preferred to help those in need and keep a low profile, right here in this kingdom.

the surprise wasn’t that you fell for hyunjin. practically anyone from the human realm would be mad not to pine after both his handsome features and his kind, generous demeanour. the surprise, in your mind, was that he somehow fell in love with you.

and aelva understood your relationship as soon as she met the two of you. in fact, aelva was glad to help the two of you; finding the rules of the elven kingdom when it came to elf-human love.

you vividly remember how she grabbed a heavy book and a small metal box from a table and placed them on the great stone table in the middle of the dimly lit room. “i have an enchantment that can create a safe refuge for you and your love.”

she explained the workings of the enchantment to the two of you and opened the metal box, revealing an odd assortment of rings and jewels, most of them old and tattered, and collected from where you'd never know. from the box, she selected a pendant with a dark blue, rectangular stone on a silver chain. she held it aloft for the both of you to see.

“whoever wears the pendant will be the one who can open the door, and who determines what lies inside,” she explained in a whisper.

“who will be the one to keep it?”

hyunjin took your hands in his without hesitation.

“will you?”

“yes.”

aelva fastened the pendant around your neck before pulling out the book of spells and handing it to hyunjin to hold open. she touched delicate fingertips to the pendant that hung against your collarbone, her other hand coming to rest on the book hyunjin held.

with the little light filtering in through the windows from the sliver of moon hanging high in the sky, aelva began to chant in a tongue you’d never heard before, reciting the spell she read from the page. you felt a quick surge of heat that made you gasp, and in moments, it was over.

she studied you carefully, a smile on her lips before giving her final instructions.

“the one who wears the pendant needs only think of what they’d like to find behind the door—a room, a country, anywhere—and when they turn the handle, that is the place they will find inside. only the wearer of the pendant and those that take her hand may enter; all others will not be able to find the door hidden in plain sight. but bear in mind, the pendant creates only illusion. nothing you find beyond this door is real, except for the two of you. but you will be safe here.”

you remember squeezing aelva’s hand, a tear rolling down your cheek. “thank you.”

“anything for true love.”

just before you left, hyunjin leaned down to kiss your lips with a promise. “i’ll meet you there tomorrow night.”

and so he did, not only the next night, but many, many more nights to come.

and now, in the shadow of an ancient tree, the last traces of sunlight were finally falling below the horizon, you watched as the streams of light glimmered across the fields, shining lights of green and yellow trailing behind them.

the tiny creatures living together in the elven kingdom illuminated the landscape as you leaned back against your lover’s chest, letting your head fall back onto his broad shoulder as you looked up toward the sky. his hand, warm and trembling, brushed down the side of your neck and shoulder, pushing the sleeve of your dress away so that he could kiss the bare skin underneath.

you sat between his legs, the smooth material of his dress shirt soft against your back, and you sighed as one of the fluttering lights bounced off a flower just a short distance away. you reached back, placing a delicate hand over hyunjin’s on your shoulder, and sighed. “i wish this could last forever.”

you felt his exhale against your ear. “so do i, my love,” he whispered before pulling your hand up to his lips for a chaste kiss. but alas, your time was running short. you both needed to return home, and if you weren’t back soon, you’d surely be missed.

hyunjin’s fingertips grazed the tiny flower buds he had carefully woven into your hair, placed just so to adorn you. but as the minutes dragged on, though all you wanted was to stay cradled in his arms, you knew it was time to leave the meadow and head for home.

hyunjin helped you to your feet and took up the bag you had brought with you, filled with delicious pastries and fruit, all the while, holding your hand tightly in his. as you walked through the meadow that was located on a far away hill, the glow of the grass and setting sun faded away behind you. it was only a short walk before you came to the door which was only known to you and hyunjin.

as if it had sprouted from the ground, the great door, seemingly wood and iron with an appointed arch over the top, stood in the downhill. as you stepped to the other side, you entered the same meadow that was connected to the kingdom, however, the huge door disappeared behind you.

a simple spell that hid you and hyunjin’s romance from the peering eyes of anyone else. you reached for the small pendant hanging on a chain around your neck and tucked it safely under the collar of your dress.

before parting, hyunjin wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting at the base of your spine, pulling you close for a languid kiss, slow and silent, neither of you wanting to let go. the danger of the kiss making both of you feel lightheaded. a breath passed as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours for only a moment, knuckles brushing your cheek. you exchanged no words, but you felt it, his love and passion that you returned tenfold under the cover of the kingdom now wrapped in the night .

you dared to stay long enough on the quiet alley to watch him disappear around the corner before hurrying the opposite way yourself. your heart full but aching.

more months passed this way, your rendezvous with hyunjin becoming more and more frequent. with this secret hideaway you shared, it was easier to spend time together, to crave each other’s presence in a place where no one could separate you. each time you met, hyunjin held your hand in his as you pictured the location you chose to visit on the inside. never did hyunjin make a request, even when you asked him to. it was his gift to you, he said.

“where to tonight, my love?” he asked, a dreamy tone in his voice that lit a small fire in some deep fragment of your soul. you wrapped your fingers around the pendant, concealed under your clothes during the day, and sighed.

you knew exactly where you wanted to go tonight. holding the thought in your mind, you reach for the emptiness, only for the door to erect out of thin air, turning the handle, the fantasy materializing in front of your eyes.

you found yourself in an unfamiliar room with a comfortable air about it. the walls and carpets were dark, rich reds and deep green floral patterns warmed the atmosphere before you. heavy wooden furniture was arranged just so, dark mahogany woods twisting in ornate patterns that looked like the roots of trees that had grown out of the floor. candles burned on the dressing table and a mirrored vanity, tossing shadows across the room, leading your eyes to a bed covered in velvety bedsheets.

“but this is—” hyunjin breathed.

“your bedroom. i wanted to see it.”

with the door safely closed behind you, you led hyunjin to his bed – the illusion of his bed – and sat beside him on the plush bedding. he dropped down beside you, running his hands over the designs on the blanket, an exact replica of the one he slept under every night.

everything in the room was exactly as it would be if he returned to his home at this exact moment. though it was almost uncanny to be sitting there, he felt a fluttering in his chest as he gazed upon you, your form against the backdrop of his most private space.

you, on the other hand, could hardly stop from observing the room, curious as to every detail, even if this was only a false vision of the real thing.

it was as close as you might ever come, and you decided to make it count. an urgency washed over you, the intimacy of peering into hyunjin’s bedroom overcoming your senses with a haze of lust. you reached out to his face, suddenly desperate to touch him, to feel his body, to be near him in the most carnal sense of the word.

you breathed his name before he took you in his arms and pulled you close, your lips crashing into his as instincts began to overcome him as well. this was where you belonged, in his arms, in his bed.

you opened up to him, letting your jaw fall open as he forced his tongue into your heated mouth, breathy moans and gasps escaping the both of you as your body rolled against his. his hands roamed down your back and around to your hips as you clung to his neck, both gripping the other as if you would never let go. clumsily, hyunjin’s slender fingers fumbled with the laces down the sides of your dress, messy in their desperation to remove the layers of clothes separating his body from yours.

“please, my love,” he whispered, hitching your breath in your throat as you realized he wanted you as passionately as you wanted him.

you rose to your knees and began untying the various fastenings of your dress until it fell loosely around your shoulders. hyunjin sat up to help pull the fabric over your head, leaving you in only your white underclothes, an image he held in his mind during lonely nights in this very room, when the two of you could not be together for one reason or another.

he marveled at your body like it was the first time he was seeing it, though this was far from the truth. the glow of your skin in the candlelight left him breathless, the curves of your jaw, your neck, your nearly exposed breasts, and your thighs almost too much for him to handle.

his hands traced the line of your shoulder, down your arms to your wrists, where he took hold and pulled your hands up to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers as his dark lashes fluttered closed, drinking you in with his lips instead of his eyes.

clothing was discarded piece by piece, flung into a pile somewhere on the floor until the both of you were bare, chests heaving for breath as he kissed you, longing for your taste on his tongue.

you dragged your fingernails over his defined shoulders and chest as he kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the soft flesh he found there.

his hands wandered your hips and thighs, indecisive fingertips squeezing the curves of your legs and the globes of your ass until he couldn’t fight the instincts in his head any longer.

hooking his strong hands under your knees, hyunjin flipped you over on the bed, claiming a position on top of you where he had better access to your body. thick erection pressed tightly against his stomach, he leaned forward and captured one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh of its underside as his hand cupped the other side of your chest.

with nothing to dampen your moans, you cried out in pleasure as his lips moved to cover the hard bud of your nipple, his teeth digging in just enough to bring you to a place of dizziness.

“my love, ” he moaned between wet kisses, lips pressed against your skin with a shudder.

he sucked harder still as his dominant hand pinched your opposite nipple and massaged the mound underneath it in circles. you writhed under him, calling out his name as he ravaged your chest. your fingers burrowed into his locks, your body scrambling for anything to hold on to as if you would float up without doing so.

your ankles came to lock around his lower back, heels pressing into his spine as he nipped at your most sensitive areas, the ones he had come to know so well.

just as your neck was starting to feel unbearably hot from the pleasure, beads of sweat rolling down both your forehead and his back, he finally released your breast with a pop of his lips, gasping as he came up for air. he leaned back on his thighs, sitting upright to survey the traces of love bites and fingertip bruises he’d left across your chest, carefully kept below where the neckline of your dress would cover the next day.

as both of you caught your breath, he stared down at the pendant that gave you this power, which rested perfectly between your breasts, glinting as it caught the light from the nearest candle. it sent hyunjin’s head spinning as he touched his throbbing cock in one hand, preparing himself for you.

“let me fill you, please.” his thighs tensed between your legs, spread wide for him, straining to hold himself back. a glistening bead of pre-cum formed at his tip, but he didn’t break eye contact with you as he spread it over the blushing head of his cock with his thumb.

“please,” you whispered, hardly able to make a sound, as hungry for him as he was for you.

hyunjin released his grip between his legs and instead reached under your knees, folding your legs into your body, knees on either side of your chest. you felt him pressing forward, putting his weight first in his hands against the back of your thighs, spreading you wider in preparation. you wept for him, slick and trembling from his ministrations on your chest and the sight of his impossibly thick cock. you knew he would fit inside you, but only just.

with a sharp inhale, he teased his cock at your hole, the head swiping at your sensitive skin before he started to push himself inside you, inch by inch as he groaned. you felt the delicious burn as his thickness stretched your walls, both inside and out, to accept him.

“that’s it, my good girl, let me fill you,” he grunted, sweat dripping off the tip of his sloped nose and onto your chest as you whined in pleasure. he pulled out slowly before thrusting inside again, this time forcing himself inside you with a singular motion that had you clawing at his shoulders, mewling as his cock filled you completely.

hyunjin moaned deliciously as the pushing and pulling began, the dragging of his thickness creating intense friction between your legs. the sheer size of his cock splitting you in two had your head thrashing from side to side as he began to lose himself, lips moving almost on their own.

his eyes rolled back in his head with a gasp as his hip bones touched your thighs as he continued to pound himself into you. his thrusts came harder and faster yet, the muscles in your thighs trembling from being spread so wide for so long. the wet squelching of his cock sliding in and out of your heat couldn’t drown out hyunjin’s cries.

“y/n, oh my g– mine, my girl. mine” his words fell from his lips like a prayer, begging for salvation but not forgiveness, finally pushing you to release. your thighs bucked up against the strength of his legs as your neck and back arched severely off the bed, head thrown back in a scream as you came on his thick cock.

despite how you gasped, hyunjin didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, until you were filled with him. slick dribbled from your hole, wetting his cock even more as he slid in and out of you, pushing himself past his own limit.

“my love, i love you, i love you,” you panted, reaching to squeeze the muscles of his sturdy arms, impossibly flexed as he thrusted deep inside one last time before coating your insides with his load, his entire body shaking.

he collapsed beside you then, lungs gasping for breath, eventually pulling you into his chest, glistening with sweat and heat. his forehead dropped onto your shoulder and he curled into you, silent sobs wrenching from his lips as he began to cry. numbly, you lifted your arms to encircle his waist before sinking down to the mattress, your bodies slotting together as you held each other..

as soon as he could gather himself again, hyunjin spoke.

“i just want to spend forever with you but–” he didn’t have to say what it was. you didn’t want him to, afraid that admitting it aloud would cause your world of illusion to disappear.

“what will we do?” you asked, your heart breaking at the sight of him. tears welling up in your own eyes.

after a moment of silence, hyunjin slowly placed the pendant around his own neck and took your hand, pulling you up quickly. with one deep breath, he reached for the door the same door you came in from, pulling you alongside him as he lifted the iron handle of his door.

you followed, and with a flash of light, you stood on a green hillside at sunrise, grass under your bare feet, your bare body now covered with a white dress of his creation. you looked up at him and found him dressed not in robes, but in a simple white tunic and pants, the wind touseling the fabric.

he held both your hands as you gazed out behind him, the breathtaking view of the similar countryside dotted with stone fences and thatched roof cottages. everything around you felt calm, including the look in his eyes. “why here?” you asked.

“because,” he replied, “in a place like this, i’m just hyunjin, and you’re just you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he reached up to stroke your cheek. perhaps it was for the last time, you thought with a twinge in your chest, maybe this was the end for the two of you. you couldn’t go on like this. but his lips fluttered lightly over yours, pulling your eyes up to meet him when he released the kiss. his hands found your face, and you waited for the final goodbye.

but you found forever in his eyes. hyunjin tucked the pendant into his shirt and offered you his hand. you took it and began to walk alongside him, over the rolling hill, toward where the sun was now peeking over the horizon.

he squeezed your hand in an unspoken promise.

he’d leave everything behind, the kingdom, everything – to stay here with you. he would wander these pastures by your side for the rest of his days, hand in hand.

maybe this world was merely a fantasy, but it was the place you could be together. it was real as long as you were together.

#celebratethemthighs #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #elf hyunjin #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #skz scenarios

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

rings.

| bucky barnes x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. bucky with rings

mafia au, soft!dom

cw: sliiiiight dubcon if you squint, but not actually

“You’re running the money through here?” Steve asked Bucky, and he nodded.

“Yes. We have a few other sites we launder through, but most of the money comes through here. Police don’t come poking around a locally owned Romanian restaurant on the upper east side,” Bucky explained.

“Boss is very... careful.” Zemo explained, referring to Bucky.

They were trying to make a deal with Steve and Sam, the two American bosses of another mafia they were trying to sell their illegal weapons to. One of their bases was raided, all of their drugs and weapons seized by the DEA.

They had come to Bucky, looking to buy more weapons to arm their dealers and “soldiers”.

“And who is this exactly?” Sam eyed Zemo suspiciously.

“Zemo. He’s security, and my weapons expert,” Bucky answered.

“Do you have connections?” Steve continued, trying to ignore the Sokovian’s unsettling stare.

“Yes. The head agent of the Manhattan DEA is one of us. Half of the local precincts are in our pocket, and I own the NYPD.” Bucky’s tone was impatient, he didn’t appreciate the questioning of his authority.

Bucky was the most powerful man in New York, and also the most feared. He demanded respect, dominating every space he entered. Steve and Sam wanted to be under his protection, and be supplied by him.

The men stopped talking when they heard a noise, and the four men burst into the front of the restaurant, guns drawn.

“Did you not lock the fucking door?!” Bucky snapped at Zemo. Zemo just rolled his eyes, and they stepped out into the dining room, where you stood.

You loved the Romanian restaurant just a few streets down from your building. You frequented it, their papanasi your favorite comfort food.

You’d had a rough week, a lot of family drama, and you were craving the Romanian food. You found the door unlocked and a back light on as you were walking home late, and you’d gone inside to try to get a snack.

It was empty, but four men had come out, three of them pulling guns and pointing them at you. You’d heard voices and had begun to walk to the back hallway, where they’d been talking in an office. You’d heard “I own the NYPD,” and nothing else. You’d started to leave when the men had appeared.

The man who didn’t have a gun pointed at you was in an all-black suit, silver eyes matching silver rings on his fingers that looked like they costed more than your Manhattan rent.

You were frozen, staring down the barrels of three guns, fear robbing your lungs of air.

“Get your fucking guns out of her face!” Bucky shouted, making you jump. Zemo obeyed immediately, but Steve and Sam kept their guns pointed at you.

“She’s-”

“She’s unarmed and terrified. Put down the fucking guns!” The other two slowly lowered their weapons, and you were shaking.

Bucky looked at you, a frightened girl who clearly had just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. You stared back at him, your hands trembling. You didn’t understand him protecting you from the other men, but you were thankful.

“Please, I didn’t hear anything, I haven’t done anything... I just wanted some food,” you pleaded softly, looking at Bucky in hopes he’d take more pity on you.

“I believe you, doll, but we can’t let you leave,” Bucky spoke, and you bit your lip.

“I won’t do anything,” you promised.

“I know. You came for something to eat? Let’s get you some food. Zemo.” Bucky pushed the Sokovian toward the kitchen.

“Barnes, we can’t just-” Steve turned to Bucky, starting to object.

“You will respect my authority, Steve.”

You looked at him, and Bucky held his hand out for you to take. You hesitated, and his silver gaze softened.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” he said quietly, and you carefully put your hand in his, the metal rings cold against your warm skin. Bucky pulled you toward him, his other hand going to rest on the small of your back as he led you to his office, sitting down with you on one of the brown leather couches. You began to smell the food Zemo was cooking, growing hungrier. Sam and Steve sat across from the two of you, and you shifted under their intense gazes.

“What’s your name?” Bucky asked you, and when you didn’t answer immediately, he introduced himself.

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky,” he felt bad that you’d gotten caught up with them. Under another circumstance, he probably would’ve sent you away, but he couldn’t let you go in front of the two Americans, and not risking what you may have heard of their conversation.

Your mind was spinning. You’d never been in the presence of four men as beautiful as the ones in the restaurant. Bucky especially, was incredibly gorgeous. His stern, dominating personality made him far more attractive somehow, and you found yourself growing warm in your jeans.

“Your name, doll?” Bucky’s voice was soft as he called you back to attention, snapping your mind out of your wandering thoughts.

“Y/N,” you whispered, pulling at a rip in your jeans, letting your eyes fall down to your lap.

“That’s a pretty name,” Bucky said, repeating it, and god it sounded so much better falling from his lips.

“Here,” Zemo returned, setting down a plate for you. A small gasp left you as Bucky hauled you closer to him on the couch. You realized it was so that Zemo could sit down on your other side. You picked up the plate, eating quietly, trying to ignore the stares from the men across from you.

Zemo and Bucky didn’t stare, and Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your leg. They began to speak in Romanian, and you didn’t understand, so you kept eating. You nearly choked when Bucky squeezed your thigh a bit, his rings glinting from the movement.

You wondered how the cool metal would feel against your heat.

“Y/N? I asked if you were alright?”

“Hm? Yes,” you blushed furiously, and Bucky had an amused smirk on your face, practically reading your mind, or at least recognizing filthy thoughts as you stared at his large hands.

“Her cheeks look a little rosy,” Zemo hummed, his fingers brushing lightly over your cheekbone. Your chest rose and fell heavily, and Steve leaned forward and took the now-empty plate from your lap.

“Are you nervous?” Bucky teased, his deep voice soaking into you, surrounding you and blocking out everything else.

“No, sir,” you shook your head, swallowing hard.

“Sir? So sweet,” Zemo chuckled darkly, and you felt his fingertips ghost down your spine.

“I am sweet,” you said, looking up at Bucky, and he tilted his head to the side a bit, running his hand up and down your thigh. You squeezed your legs together without meaning to, just needing to alleviate some of the sexual frustration that was building inside of you.

You were overwhelmed by the two men speaking softly and sensually to you, their hands on you, the dominating personalities, and the tension in the room. You were focused on Bucky, and he helped you onto his lap. You let him move you to straddle his hips, your back to the other men.

“Want to show me how sweet you can be, doll?” He asked, his hands resting on your ribcage, and you could feel him through your thin top. You nodded shyly, and he kissed you to get you to relax a bit.

“My friends here are going to watch, okay?” Bucky’s voice was dangerously soft, and you nodded. He kissed your cheekbone lightly before slipping your top over your head, your breasts barely covered by thin, see-through lace.

You blushed, looking to the side and seeing Zemo shift at the sight of your chest.

“He’s admiring you,” Bucky hummed softly into your collarbone, pressing a kiss to the skin there, just above the curve of the lace on your breast. His hands slipped down into the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing you and pulling a breathy noise from you. You couldn’t see Sam or Steve, but you felt their gazes on your back, watching the way Bucky balanced softness and dominance with you.

“I want to make you feel good, I want to hear your little moans of pleasure,” Bucky spoke quietly, mouthing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” now, instead of begging to leave, you were begging for him, the mafia don you were on top of.

“Let’s let these poor boys behind you see. I want them to know who’s in charge here,” Bucky said, and you nodded in consent. You felt like you could collapse as he got you to stand up off of his lap. You looked down at his rings as he smoothed his hands up your belly to tease the raised peaks under your bralette.

“So pretty, doll,” Bucky praised you, kissing just above your navel. His eyes gazed up at you, and your trembling fingers threaded through his dark hair as you got lost in the stormy grey.

Bucky wanted to tear you apart, but he took it slow and was gentle for you, the sweet girl under his protection.

He kissed the space between your hips as he undid the button on your jeans, sliding them down your legs. He reached a hand up for you to take as you stepped out of them, holding you steady. He smiled at the lace bottoms that matched your top, nearly see-through.

You heard a soft throaty noise from behind you, and you looked to see Sam and Steve with their hands down their trousers, stroking themselves as they watched Bucky undress you. Zemo was doing the same, but less shy than the other two, his suit pants down around his knees, giving you full view of his cock.

You blushed shyly, feeling exposed but somehow safe with Bucky, who was squeezing your ass, leaving imprints of his rings against your skin.

“Look, they’re all touching themselves because of you, how beautiful and sweet you are,” Bucky turned you around so your back was to him, making you watch Steve and Sam. Your skimpy underwear showed how wet you were, and you were unable to hide how turned on you were any more.

Bucky’s hands were on your hips as he kissed down your spine, shivers shooting through your body. He slid the lace down your legs, leaving it discarded on the floor with your jeans, but not bothering to get you fully naked.

A soft squeal escaped as you were suddenly dragged backwards, falling onto Bucky’s lap, your back pressed against his suit-clad chest.

“You can rest on me, doll,” he coaxed you to relax, his hands smoothing down your body.

Steve and Sam were overwhelmed by the sight in front of them, and Bucky knew it. He was doing this to assert his dominance, and to establish a level of trust between them. They watched him part your legs, keeping them open with his knees. Zemo was much more unphased than the other two, enjoying the show as one of Bucky’s loyal friends.

Bucky could hear your soft, unsteady breaths, and he stilled when your smaller hand grasped his.

“Leave them on, please,” you begged, tilting your head back to look him in the eyes before he could remove his rings.

“Of course, sweet girl.” Bucky planted a gentle kiss to your lips, deepening it to hear your soft moans.

“Oh my god, fuck,” one of the men moaned as they came, seeing your sex glisten as Bucky licked into your mouth sensually.

Bucky gently trailed his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were. He began to stroke your clit softly, listening to you whine.

He eased one of his large fingers into your tight entrance. You shuddered, your breath stuttering as you felt the cold metal against your hot pussy, your muscles squeezing around his finger.

“Does that feel good?” Zemo asked you as Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, still teasing your clit to keep you relaxed.

“Answer him, doll,” Bucky commanded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you turned your head to look at Zemo, watching his hips fuck up into his hand.

“No, you keep touching yourselves. You’re not done until I’m done.” Bucky’s order was directed at Steve and Sam, who’s noises rose in pitch at the forced overstimulation. They were too afraid to disobey Bucky, knowing the consequences would be dire. Zemo knew this ahead of time, and was taking it much slower, still enjoying himself as he watched you writhe on Bucky’s lap.

Bucky kissed along your shoulder and neck, three fingers pumping slowly in and out of you. He expertly drew whines and moans of pleasure from you, and your legs were beginning to shake from the intensity.

The cold metal against your heat was driving you mad, making your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Your back arched off of Bucky’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around you to hold you against him. He still managed to stay calm enough to continue being gentle with you, leading you quickly toward a powerful orgasm.

“You must ask him before you let go, sweetheart,” Zemo informed you, and your broken whimper filled Bucky’s ears. He watched the other three men writhing in their own mind-blowing pleasure, all under the instruction of him.

“Please, Bucky, I need-” you cut yourself off with a strangled squeal as he curved his fingers forward inside of you.

“Let go, I’ve got you,” He said, kissing your cheek as he murmured the soft words. Your screams of white-hot pleasure filled the room, shaking and falling apart on his lap. A choked sob left your chest as he pulled out of you, his digits soaked in your come. He’d waited until you had fell down from your high, becoming relaxed in his arms.

He was whispering gentle praises in your ear as he slipped his fingers into your mouth to clean them off. You hollowed your cheeks, obediently cleaning him up and feeling the metal rings pressed against your lips. You were soothed by sucking off his fingers and the praises, melting into the mafia lord.

“I think I want to keep you.”

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silksaddle · 3 years

Text

love interruption

pairing: frankie morales x afab/fem!reader

rating: explicit/18+

summary: frankie wants to touch

content: suggestive touches, kisses, language, titty lovin’ (no reference to size!! neutral as possible)

a/n: um. so this exists bc @filthybookworm and i have no control and it’s just based on our texts about frankie always wanting his hands up your shirt THANKS BYE

“Put that down, baby.” Frankie’s voice calls to you, blurred between the lines of a whisper and a soft, raspy grunt. When you look at him from the dresser, his lips are pursed into a desperate little pout, eyes watching you through his lashes. “Please?” He adds, shifting on his bed.

“Frankie, I’m just about finished with this laundry—”

“—C’mere.”

“Alright, alright, baby.” You abandon your half-folded sweater, stepping into the space between his thighs at the edge of the mattress. His energy seems to shift as he gets what he wanted — burning cheeks, tiny smile, brown eyes trailing up your body until they land on your face.

“Hi,” he coos, hands squeezing at your hips, “can I touch?”

Can I touch, as his eyes fall back down to your chest.

A gentle mmph from your end tells him yes, but it’s not enough for him and his warm hands, aching to creep up under your shirt and feel the way you arch into him, until you ask him for more, Frankie, more—

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He asks you gently, coaxing the answer out of you, leaning forward to brush his nose over your sternum. His forehead crinkles with the effort of looking up at you this closely — and God — his eyes are so big and pleading. He needs to hear it.

“Yes,” you breathe, voice breaking with how easily he makes you want him, “yes, touch me.”

Frankie groans, his fingertips finally easing under the fabric to grace your skin with their calloused warmth, his palms soon joining them. He’s so gentle like this, closing his eyes and just touching you, inhaling shakily.

Curling over him, your hands tug at his hair, grown longer than he usually lets it; there’s an extra swoop to the ends, his tightening grip telling you he likes it when you pull it that way. The scent of his shampoo briefly wafts to your nose, a masculine kind of sweetness that matches him so well — his kind nature and sturdy, capable body.

“Baby...” You sigh as he thumbs the underside of your breasts. He perks up, eyes seemingly far away until he asks another question.

“Can you take this off?”

Hastily, you ease yourself out of your shirt, arms crossing and bringing it over your head while Frankie watches in wonderment, breathing deep and quick. His thighs squeeze you, the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“Look at you,” he whispers hoarsely, transfixed, jaw slack. “So fucking pretty, baby, so pretty for me,” he babbles on, no longer able to ignore the way he’s straining in his jeans, how he’s dying to put his mouth on you. His palms cover your nipples, the slight roughness of them causing your breath to catch, but it’s the lightest touch; you want more, more, more.

You whine, feeble and delicate, to Frankie’s soft grunt when he presses a kiss just under your left breast. So soft, he says, nuzzling into the middle of your chest, until he presses a deeper, warmer, wet kiss to the right, his hum so gentle it must be a whimper.

You’re overwhelmed by it. Frankie’s overwhelmed by it.

You don’t realize just how tight his grip is on your waist until he moves his hands up further, releasing that part of you to love on the next one.

He links his ankles behind your feet, tugging you closer with his hands flat on your back, fingers splayed, his nose tracing the curve of your breast until his lips close around a hardened bud, tongue flicking lazily over it.

“Oh, Frankie,” you moan for him as he goes faster, faster... yet just as gentle. He gives soft nips, more endless kisses to flower across your skin, grazing you, holding you. Your fingers stay ever-present in his hair, scratching through his scalp, twisting locks around your pointer.

And his mouth is so hot, each touch from him spilling a heavy rush of affection into you. Frankie’s fingers drag down your back, lips sucking what might become a bruise to the side of your breast.

“Baby, baby,” he mewls, forehead pressing into your sternum, catching the breath he didn’t mind losing over kissing you. When he tilts his head back and looks up at you, he’s ruined, eyelids heavy with deep need, lips swollen and pink. You feel a pat at the side of your thigh — need more of you, he pleads — your invitation to settle down into his lap.

Your noses touch when you lower yourself, Frankie’s expression still that of wonder, of eternal infatuation as you share your breaths for a moment, until you dip your head and kiss the curve of his neck, his chest constricting with the sheer amount of arousal coursing through him.

“Fuck—” he moans easily for you, grasping at your hips to grind you against him and rubbing you just the right way, your lips almost brushing in quiet pants, open against the other’s, until you both steady yourselves and kiss, seeking out that tender sensation.

“I like you like this,” he rasps, “when you kiss me like that, on my lap, oh—”

He sighs when you reach for his belt, falling backwards onto the mattress and letting his large hands rest on your thighs.

He’s a mess, you’re a mess, littered in each other’s kisses, sharing restrained moans.

“You gonna fuck me like this, baby?” Frankie asks, eyes glittering hopefully, and you’ll never tell him no.

———

tags (taken from likes on my main blog’s post, let me know if you want to be added or taken off!)

@filthybookworm @frannyzooey @anatanotegami @eznova @kjim16

@omgreally @redkenobi

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie morales smut #my writing

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neovisioned · 4 years

Text

♡ꜜ out of my league﹫mark lee

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

pairing : mark x reader (f)

genre : tiny angst, fluff, smut with some plot, bestfriend!mark, college!au, best friends to lovers.

warnings : weed, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, praising.

word count : +4k

synopsis : your best friend Mark Lee tells you all the things he believed, you were always out of his league.

Mark Lee has been in love with the same person for as long as he could remember. It's something he took some time to understand, days to wrap his head around.

Where do you draw the line between deep friendship, platonic love between friends and a connection running deeper, a love that seeks more than the label "friends" ?

Laying on your bed, his right hand throws a tennis ball in the air, easily catching it while his left hand hold the rolled up paper between two fingers.

It's a shame, the smoke he's blowing out of his lungs is probably sticking to your bed sheets, ones he noticed you washed the moment he dropped his body on your bed.

Soft rose fragrance, traces of an exotic fruit he can not pin point, though Mark is sure he could recognise the perfume of your detergent between thousands of others.

Heavy sigh, smoke escaping his lips like a dragon dissolving in the air, heavy eyelids closing in front of his brown irises. He really should stop smoking, Mark thinks. It's a black hole in his wallet, it is not that good for his health and fuck, does it makes his mind wonder.

Correction, Mark should stop smoking around you. Because, whenever he does, his mind might search in the deepest, darkest folds of his brain for a new topic, he'll always, forever, come back to you.

Mark Lee has been in love with you for as long as he can remember.

It's something he's been aware of for some years now. It's crazy how he can pinpoint the moment his mind clicked, the moment he put two and two together. He can still visualise the moment his heart went from a friendship he'd die for to a love he'd die for, one so strong he, himself, was dumbfounded by his years long blindness.

It happened right before prom, second to last year of high school. Mark Lee remembers when you stepped out of your father's car (he doesn't trust any other boy but Mark, he insisted on driving you to your school's dance).

Pretty deep blue dress, it's his favourite colour on his favourite person. You did not do anything special to your hair, only added a bit more makeup. Though, it's not your appearance that made everything click, you've always been pretty, it wasn't the first time your friend noticed.

Rather, it's when your date shows up. It's when one of the school's popular kid shows up and makes you dance that he understands. He wants it to be him so bad. He wants to make you twirl, he wants to make you laugh.

Mark understands it isn't just him being mad that you're not answering your phone, it's love. Jealousy, green monster eating away at his heart when he wonders if you're still with him, it's a hand tightly wrapping around the muscle when he wonders if you're going to fall into someone else's arms.

Mark remembers it, it was five years ago. Late summer night where he stayed on his phone for too long, love sick kid scrolling through pictures and pictures of his prom waiting for a text from his best friend.

He didn't say anything, maybe Mark was a bit of a coward, and you were out of his league.

“Mark ?”

From all the things you best friend loves about you, if he had to pick, it'd be the way you say his name. No matter the intonation, no matter the context, the men loves the way it sounds coming out of your lips.

He thinks he won't ever get enough of it, it's intoxicating, makes him think he has the prettiest name after your own.

Eyelids slowly open, tired smile stretching his lips. You're steading in front of your bed, freshly showered, hand turning your small projector on.

“Hm ?”, he doesn't bother answering with words, humming softly. His head turns to the side, following your movements around the bedroom he knows like the back of his hand.

“This one or...That one ?”, you ask, playing with your remote to show your best friend two animation movies you both saw too many times.

“First one.” You've noticed over time, his voice always gets deeper when he smokes, brown eyes always get a shade darker.

“Alright, baby chose.”

Ah, correction. If there's one thing that Mark loves, it's the pet names you give him. So natural, honey filled, he wished you meant them.

Baby, babe, darling. He loves it all, he wants it all, he wants you all.

Unaware of his thoughts, you finally crawl up next to him, the shirt you're wearing as your pyjamas riding up, Mark takes another hit at that.

Familiar sound of Netflix resonates in your room as you take yet another remote and turn your lights off, before gesturing towards your friend. You're not an avide smoker but, you infale the smoke a few times before giving the rolled up paper back to the brunette.

Mark knows what's about to happen, whenever your movie night has a bit of green, the movie gets long lost behind while you two would rather speak about anything and everything. After years of friendship, you'd think you two would've took and turned every subject under the pale moon but, Mark definitely did not expect this.

Hands free, he crushes the cigarette on the special painted bowl you have for him, Mark also loves the way you have some things for him on your house as if he lives with you.

Your right hand is quick to find his left hand, an old habit your have. Your fingers stretch against his own, comparing sizes like kids flirting, swinging your hands from left to right. Your arm easily gets tired by holding your hand up in the air like this, but the warmth of Mark's hand and the way his fingertips rough by his guitar strings brush against your palm every now and then feels like home.

“How do you know when you're in love ?”, your voice's soft, mindlessly humming to the song in the animation movie Mark chose. Is that the topic you decided to bring up...? Mark's hand stays still for a moment, following your own hand's movement as he thinks for a while.

“Don't give me that “You just know” bullshit.”, you mumble when he stays quiet for a bit too long.

“But I think you do, just know. I think it's different for everyone.”, he starts, speech slightly altered by the green herb intoxicating his mind.

“How is it... For you ?”, you ask. See, you know Mark had some crushes here and there, but you don't think he has ever been in love or, at least, he never told you.

“It's... Loving the way they say your name, wanting to be with them as much as possible. It's... Craving to be as close as possible.” and unconsciously, his fingers wrap around yours.

“It's finding happiness in their joy, sharing their sadness. It's small things like memorising the perfume they wear and what food they dislike.”

The brunette stays quiet for a moment, heavy eyes look upon your locked hands in the darkness, chest light, mind foggy.

“It's them feeling like home.”, he finally says.

Mark smiles to himself, you do feel like home, you make everything feel like home. From the way you have a pillow and the way you keep a toothbrush for him, to the way you always feel so warm and safe.

Thankfully for you, the lack of light hides the small blush creeping on your cheeks.

Mark doesn't know, you've been in love with him for years, though you've been aware for a bit longer. His confession takes your breathe away with a heavy sigh, you squeeze his hand.

“I was in love with you.”

Was, you take the safe route as the words fly out of your mouth before you can even understand. Even if he's shocked, you can play the past card.

“I was in love with you too.”, silence doesn't last long as Mark let's out as well, eyes on the movie even though he isn't paying any attention : his favourite line just played and he didn't even let a giggle out.

The words make your ears ring, skin burn red, heart beat against your ribcage. He was too...? He was. He isn't anymore.

“Why didn't you tell me ?”, you breath out, turning to the side. You use an elbow to support your body, you dare look at your best friend's face.

It's crazy how he still have the still has the same baby face you've always known, the same pretty eyes and the same smile, his jaw got sharper with years and voice deeper and yet, he's still the same. He's home.

Mark, him, doesn't dare look at you for a second. Before he does, soft eyes looking directly into yours. Why didn't he tell you ? He knows why, he has a list of reasons why and another list of reasons why he should've told you he'd rather not think about right in this moment.

“You're out of my league.”, he breathes out. You can read your best friend like a book, you know he is not joking when he tells you so. And yet, you can't wrap your head around the idea.

“I— What, no !”, you're almost whispering and screaming at him at the same time, getting up to sit on your knees. He was out of your league, he has always been, you never—.

“You were—. You are out of mine.”, you tell him, almost dumbfounded. For a split second, it feels like someone's finally giving you the dream you've always wanted and, the moment it touches your hands, it slips through your fingers.

Can you be nostalgic of something you've never even experienced ? And yet, your mind grabs onto a single thing. Present tense, you're still out of his league, he still thinks so.

In his semi-high state, the brunette chuckles out, as dumbfounded.

You wonder if there are feelings still unknown to humans because this, the pull you're feeling at the strings of your heart and the lump in your throat combined to the angering heat taking over your body aren't emotions you're used to feeling at the same time.

“Hey, what's wrong ?”, your best friend asks, an arm wrapping around your neck to pull you closer. You're sure it's supposed to be for hug, one you'd happily accept if you weren't in this very situation. Both forearms stop your body from colliding against his, Mark frowns.

In another situation, he'd be able to read you like an open book and, maybe he's thankful he isn't completely sober right now. If he wasn't slightly high, he'd be as red.

“Are you...Are you still in love with me ?”, you ask. It's almost a whisper, one Mark is sure he would've caught if it wasn't for the almost silent scene going on in the long forgotten movie.

Is he still in love with you ? Yes. His mind screams a loud, obnoxious yes. His body screams another loud and obnoxious yes and yet. Yet, Mark stays silent for what feels like minutes. He knows he is, he's sure of it, he doesn't know if he should say it.

Yes, yes, yes.

“Yeah.”

To be in love with your best friend, to confess your love after years, decades, even.

Such a simple word and yet, it hangs in the air, you can almost make it out in the slight darkness of the room. When Mark has the ability to put words on how he feels, you can't put anything on what goes on in your brain and body when he says the simple truth. You think your heart might fall out right into your best friend's hand, if he did not already have it. Your mind twist the word again and again just to find a fault, a break, a rupture.

There isn't none, he's in love with you.

There's another few seconds where you stay silent. You decide actions speak louder than words. Where Mark pulled you into a hug, you pull him into a kiss you've been craving for years.

Carnal need sleeping deep in both your minds, it doesn't need much to be awakened, burning a fire louder than hell's. Your lips touch his. Its shy, hesitant but, when Mark's arm tighten around your neck, no words need to be spoken.

The sweet, innocent, childlike kiss turns desperate in matter of seconds. Your best friend pulls you closer, closer, closer. He catches your leg between his, pushes your chest against his to the point where you can feel his heart hammering.

Lips move in harmony, common rhythm is quickly found and, you whine the moment he pulls away.

“Tell me.”, he breathes out against your lips, it's a desperate plea for something he had been waiting to hear, something he thought he'd never hear. “Say it.”, it's demanding, greedy. You give in easily.

“I'm in love with you.”

There's a weight pulled out of your chest, you'd chant it again and again if you could. You'd scream in if you could, you'd breathe it against his skin.

The brunette pulls you into a bruising kiss, he pours his soul out, hand cupping the back of your neck.

If this is a dream, Mark is determined to not let it go. Using his body at his advantage, positions are reversed, the brunette quickly towards over you. You switched you could turn the light back on but, the colourful lights of the movie dance against his jawline and shine against his wet lips, you decide your best friend looks like a painter's muse.

“There hasn't been a single day where I haven't thought about you.”, he breathes pretty words against your skin, taking his lips from your mouth to your jaw. It's loving, deep kisses, each to mean something.

“There hasn't been a single day where I haven't thought about being more to you, wished we were more.”

More, more, more. You want more too, you need more too. You refuse to let go now.

“We can be, we can.”, it's frantic. You cup his face with your hands, bringing him closer. “Spent nights thinking about what we could be.”

It makes flowers bloom in his chest, he isn't able to take his lips away from your skin. The tip of his nose digs in your cheek, he inhales deeply. Oh, how he loves the soap you use.

“What did you see ?”, he asks, lips peppering kisses down your neck, hand gripping your shirt. You're quick to pull it up above your hips. First wanting to completely pull it off your body, it seems the brunette isn't patient enough.

His lips leave your neck to your tummy, butterfly kisses here and there until he stops to your panties.

“Us. Together. Living tog—.”

Your sentence's quickly cut off by your best friend, maybe a lot more now, pressing his tongue flat against the fabric of your panties.

If you weren't aware of how wet you were getting, you sure were now.

“Living together, yeah ?”, he asks, bringing his face closer to yours again right after disregarding his shirt somewhere. There's a few seconds where you pose, shamelessly taking in the men's figure.

Forehead against yours, his digits run along the line of your underwear. He's as nervous as you are, as shaken up as you are yet, you two have never been more certain of one thing that doesn't need to be said anymore.

Mark bites down on his lip, you almost hear tje mechanism in his head twisting and turning to find the right way to ask you.

You beat him at it anyways, nodding as your arms wrap around his neck.

There's one thing you'll never tell him, you spent night dreaming about a future and other were filled with thoughts of his fingers.

The guitar player had pretty hands, even prettier when they wrapped around the neck of his guitar or when he picked as some strings.

“'was too scared to tell you.”, he says and, you'd tell him you know. You know exactly how it feels, the fear of rejection by the one you've know you're entire life. You'd tell him it doesn't matter now that you now if you could.

His fingers stop you from articulating right, index and middle finger greedily collecting the wetness between your folds, the brunette doesn't wait much longer before pushing two digits in.

“I—Mark.”, there it is, a moan of his name that intoxicates Mark more than any other drug. Pupils grow wide, ears greedy to hear more. It's him, him managing to make you moan so softly in the dead of the night, him that has you wrapped around his finger.

“Fuck, say my name again.”, it's another desperate plea, say his name again so he knows it isn't a vivid dream he's going to wake up from, say his name until it's the only thing rolling out of your tongue.

You easily oblige when he starts moving his fingers, slowly yet, in a way that quickly had you gasping for air.

There's nothing rough in his actions, expect from the way his teeth gaze at the skin of your neck before softly biting down just to sooth to spot with his tongue afterwards.

It's agonising, like he wants to make sure he maps out your body to remember it perfectly after tonight. His fingers curl and drag against your walls, he remembers how and where.

His free hand creeps under your raised shirt, quickly finding your chest as his mouth finds your again.

There, he catches every sweet sound you make like he doesn't want any body else to hear them, tongue tastes yours as they lazily battle.

“Shit, baby. Just like that, god.”, when you think Mark couldn't get any better, his fingertips brush against a spot that has your hips raising up, slowly rocking against his hand.

“Right there ?”, you nod frantically as he does it again and again, lazily fingering you whilst he lets your hips grind against his digits.

“So fucking pretty.”, it's a murmur once he detaches his lips from your own, wet and red by the exchange.

It's not the first time Mark calls you pretty but at this very moment, it's different.

His wrist twist the right way just as he's about to pick the pace up and the familiar feeling grows alongside the flower blooming in your chest as Mark whisperes sweet nothings into your ear.

He can feel it, the way your walls clench around his fingers, it has his cock throbbing in his sweats. Carnal desire to feel you wrapped around him as his fingers speed up until you come undone around them.

It's a mess of his name and profanities you hope your neighbours aren't hearing.

“Want more, want you.”, you babble once you come down from your high, sweat collecting around your hairline, chest irregularly raising up and down.

When Mark seems to take too long to process your words, you take matters into your own hand.

A moment, Mark struggles to find his words and the other, his back hits the bed with a soft gasp.

He's quick to raise with his elbows, almost having whiplash when you sit down on his lap after taking off your ruined and soaked panties.

“Let me help you with that.”, there's a slight shyness in your voice Mark decides he'd die for when your clumsily work on the strings of his grey sweats.

Unspoken words, soft silence when you look into his eyes and help him push the fabric down his thighs. The air is thick, your heart beats harder and harder, your chest swells when Mark pulls you closer by your hips.

“I've been in love with you.”, he starts as you raise, lining your core with his hard member, one your eyes lingered on before he opened his mouth. There's a pause, your lips part as to say something when you slowly sit down, but no sound comes from your mouth when Mark's leaking head pushes inside.

“For so— so fucking long.”, he uses the last bits of air in his lungs to let it out, voice cracking when you sit inch by inch.

You wonder how you went so long without telling him, telling him you love him feels too good to take it back or ever again. There's a slight part of you wondering where you'd be right now if you told him sooner but you're quick to push it away.

Both hands cup his face as you bring him closer for a kiss as you fully settle on his lap, though the exchange doesn't last long. There's a beautiful groan coming from the men in front of you just as you moan out from the sensitivity, the fulness.

Mark's red lips fall open the moment you start moving up and down on him, eyes rolling back the slightest bit like he forces himself to look at you as you ride him. But, when his groans turn into moans, the brunette hides his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightly wrapping around your waist.

You don't think your can be any closer, chest against chest, your mouth to his ear as he mumbles about how you were made for him.

Up and down, up and down, your legs start burning but you keep moving on top.

“Fuck, I love you.”, it slips out when his hips meet yours halfway, not that you can say it, you swear you won't stop doing it at any given occasion.

Mark answers my sucking on your neck, probably drawing blood as he more boldly snaps his hips against yours.

You find the same desperation as when he was kissing you, carnal need wanting to be met, he fucks into you just like he means it, switching between deep and slow to fast and short snaps.

For the second time, you feel it tighten, knot threatening to burst at any moment. If you aren't moaning, your mouth hands silently open and thankfully, Mark can tell you're getting close by the way you're clenching around him.

“You're doing so good, so so good for me.”, voice almost unrecognisable, the way you can feel every vein and the way he pulse tells you he's as close, if not more.

“Come with me.”

After years of tuning your body to his voice, it follows the command almost immediately, there's a few seconds where the brunette snaps his hips, slowly, deeply, right before letting a draw out moan against your neck.

It's the last thing you hear, the way he moans you name breathlessly against your skin before you follow right behind, coming right around him like he hoped so.

Moans and body against body sound abruptly stop for heavy breathing and soft whines, you blink a few times, forehead against Mark's baked shoulder.

He smells like the apple shampoo he almost wears, he feels like home when his arms tightly wrap around your body and rock from side to side, almost lolling you to sleep. He feels safe, familiar, comfortable.

And, right before you fall deep into sleep, you hear him slightly chuckle at his second favourite movie line.

#neovisioned #mark lee #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #super m smut #nct fluff #nct aus #nct scenarios

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