#{ he takes creepy over sexy }

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I fucking HATE how the fandom treats m.ine. it's so bad 😭

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

➔ beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[sweetiecakesss]

Perversions | Inumaki Toge (18+)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: Just as you thought he was you're innocent friend, he accidentally dropped a bomb that would change everything. Turning him into someone full of lust and hunger for you.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Inumaki, Modern! AU, Fingering, Over Stimulation, Manipulation, Pussy Eating, Perverted Inumaki, Pussyjob, Tit Sucking, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before ya tap it!)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: I know I created a poll as to who to write for this trope but fucking hell! I wanna write Perverted Ijichi so bad! Nobody will read it but imma still write it soon cause gyat damn! That man is attractive and sexy in all the right places!

It was creepy…

That's what you thought everytime you would notice you lost a few undergarments whenever you were goong to wash your dirty laundry. What's more bothersome is how all the missing undergarments were…

Expensicve and…

Used. Unwashed.

Bothered by all of this, you brought it up to your childhood friend Inumaki. Inviting him over to your place, in the guise of wanting him to keep you company for the night due to the fear of actually having a stalker. "You don't understand, 'maki…It's creepy…" You let out as you voiced your concerns to him, urging him to listen to you attentively as he drank the can of beer you offered him.

"Did you change your locks?" He asked. Looking at him you nodded.

"I did! After that…the only people I would invite is you and the others and maybe a few one night stands from the bar…" You explained, sharp purple eyes looking back at you as he took a sip of his drink with his hands resting on the inside of the pockets of his jacket. Listening to your rants.

You're so fucking gullible. He thought.

Gullible was a softer word to what you were, more like downright stupid for not even noticing it was him who stole all your used underwear, Stupid of you to not notice how they would only dissapear whenever he came over but he can't blame you entirely…He was just lucky you would invite other people over right after him, clearing his tracks perfectly.

As he continued to listen to you, he can't help but subtly smile to himself as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the white smear of dried cum on your panties that he just stole earlier when you were in the bathroom.

Imagining how your pussy would feel, how wet would you be as he rubbed his fingers over your clit. Would you moan his name? whimper for him? ask for him to use like how he would thrust his cock in his hand with your panties wrapped around the tip of his cock? Just the thought of it alone made him hard.

"Hey.." He called out to you as he walked forward and placed the can of beer on top of the countertop. Looking at him, you raised your brow.

"Gotta go and take a shit, I'll be back." He let out an excuse to which you looked at him with a bothered look.

"Didn't have to know that but sure…" You responded to which Inumaki turned around to head to the bathroom.

But as he took a step, removing his hand from pocket of his jacket…It fell to the ground. Your eyes widening as you saw your red laced underwear, looking up you saw that Inumaki was already staring at you.

"That's…" You started as he bended down and grabbed your panties from the ground before stuffing them in his pockets again, as he then took heavy steps and walked towards you. His height looming over you, making you keep your gaze down to his feet as you avoided looking up at him and noticing a bulge in his pants.

He then gently reached for your hand as he placed the palm of your hand over his throbbing boner. As he felt your hand over his clothed cock, Inumaki can't help but let out a whimper as he leaned forward and placed his forhead on your shoulder, guiding your hand up and down, getting off of your touch.

"Y/N…" He whimpered your name. "Am sorry--nghh-- You'll forgive me right?…" He added as he leaned forward to kiss you on your cheek, you knew what he was doing. He was distracting you but god was it working, You liked the man from since both of you hit your puberty.

You were standing there, frozend and confused. Cheeks covered in pink color as Inumaki continued to rub himself off of the palm of your hand. You're supposed to be mad at him, Look at him in disgust but fuck-- He was making you hot and bothered. Making your pussy clench around nothing as he filled your ears with his erotic sounds, begging you to strip him naked, forgive him for being a huge pervert and mumbling your name over and over again as if you were a fucking god.

"Inumaki…" You called out to him softly. Inumaki slowly lifted his head as he met your gaze, trying his best to give you puppy eyes while his hips continued to move against you.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you pulled your hand away from him causing him to let out a needy whimper. Tears filling the corner of his eyes as his neck and up his face grew in a shade of red, embarassed to how much he just wanted to fuck you senseless.

"Please, Y/N…Am sorry. I really didn't want to, I just needed you so much--" Before Inumaki could even continue his babbles of apologies, you pulled him in for a kiss. Eliciting a moan from as his hands instantly held onto your chest, moving his hand in a circular motion, pushing his body against you and only stopping as soon as you hit the edge of the kitchen countertop.

"'ve been wanting to fuck you so bad…" Inumaki let out in between the kiss before pulling away from and kneeling down, pressing his mouth against your crotch and licking over your clothed cunt. Feeling his tongue, you instinctively gripped onto Inumaki's hair as you threw your head back.

His eyes looking up as he basked in the expressions you were making. Calloused hands moved and gripped onto your hip before Inumaki then grabbed the band of your leggings, pulling onto it and tearing it in half. Leaving you in your black underwear; making you yelp and looking down at Inumaki with wide eyes.

"What the fuck, Inumaki!" You let out at him, Purple eyes meeting yours as he looked at you.

"I'll buy you a new one, I promise…" He let out while pulling your panties aside and lifting one of your leg before placing it over his shoulder as he then leaned forward, sticking his tongue out as he licked over your clit before giving it a soft kiss. A moan escaped your mouth as you lifted your hips a bit and giving him access to more of your pussy, giving him the best view his life could ever ask for.

"Pussy, taste so fucking good…" He praised in between slurps, his fingers prodding at the entrance of your pussy before pushing it in and out of you; making you throw your head back and moving your hips in a circular motion as you helped yourself fuck your pussy on his fingers, all while moaning his name.

Giving your clit one last kiss, Inumaki stood up as he quickly removed his pants. Letting it fall down to his ankles as he caged you against the countertop with his arms on your sides, the tip of his cock; rubbing against your pussy and coating it with your slick.

Inumaki made sure to look at you as he moved his hips back and forth, giving himself a pussyjob. His breathing were rapid and shaky as he whimpered, the sounds of your moans and his filling your apartment as his hand reached to grab you by your chin and making you look at him and only him. Purple orbs meeting your perfectly E/C eyes.

"Baby, please…." Kiss. "Need to fuck this pussy so bad" Kiss. "It hurts…Need to feel you to cum…" He cried before letting go of your chin and lifting your shirt along with your bra before dropping his head down to your chest, giving it kisses before groping one of your tits and sucking on the little nub; letting go of it with a pop as he wrapped his arms around your waist, continuing to thrust his hips and rub his cock against your pussy.

You could feel and hear Inumaki's desperation as he cried in pleasure, tears staining your chest as you then ran a hand down his back before holding onto the cheeks of his ass and pushing his hips further to you, making him let out a moan of pleasure.

"Go ahead, maki…fuck me, please…" You let out breathily against his ear.

Wasting no time, Inumaki pulled away from you as he babbles non-stop thank you's before lifting your body up by holding onto your thighs before pushing the entirety of his cock in you with pure desperation.

"Oh fuck…!" You let out in a pleasurable scream as you felt all of him in you, nails digging onto the skin of his back as he let out a whimper. His thrusts starting slow as he gave you small kisses all over your upper body before his lips finally reached the under of your chin.

"So warm…" Thrust. "And so fucking good to me…" Inumaki groaned, his hips snapping against you as he started to move in a fast pace. Taken aback by his sudden pace, your eyes were wide as you pushed and hit Inumaki by his chest with your head thrown back.

"W-wait!" You choked out in between moans as you tried to break yourself free from Inumaki, his cock; bullying yoru cervix and reaching every part inside your pussy.

"Yeah--nggh-- Taking my cock so good…" He let out in a groan. "Treating me so well and forgiving me…" Nothing but the sound of sex filling the room as he fucked into you senseless.

Feeling a familiar knot in your stomach, you gathered your strength and looked at Inumaki.

"Inumaki!…Wait-- Ah fuck!-- Wait…" You muttered, your hand reaching for his hair as you pulled on it. Hoping he would stop a bit, to which he didn't as he continued to burry his cock in you.

"Sorry…Sorry, I can't-- Just wanna feel you…" He babbled.

"Inumaki, puhleasee--Something's coming out..!" You screamed against the back of your hand as your body then shivered under him, legs shaking as you sprayed all over Inumaki's stomach, causing him to stop and look at you.

Inumaki just gave you a quick smile before leaning down and giving you a kiss as he then coated your walls white. Seeing you squirt all over him was the cherry on top, his lower body drenched in nothing but both your juices.

Pulling out of you, Inumaki gave you a smile as he catched his breath before pushing two fingers inside your cunt, making you whimper.

"S-stop…" You let out in between whimpers as you grabbed onto his wrist. Opening your eyes, you looked at Inumaki.

You felt your body shiver as you saw the dark and drunken look on his face, his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow motion; causing you to let out another moan.

"Let's do that again…" He let out.

[thatgenericwriter]

The Fake Boyfriend || Gregory House

Paring: Dr. Gregory House x fem!reader

Summary: When a creepy dude starts hitting on you in the hospital you go to the closest person for help

Warnings: catcalling and gross men

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"Hey sexy!" You turn to look at who's getting catcalled. Not finding any women looking uncomfortable. Actually, not finding anyone around you at all. No one but a creepy dude who is actively walking closer and closer to you.

'.....oh shit!' You turn around and start walking faster to the cafeteria doors. You pray that there's somebody in there that can help you.

"Hey pretty lady! Why are you walking away from all of this?" You shudder in disgust and start walking even faster to the now approaching cafeteria doors.

You can feel him getting even closer to you. And you're practically running by the time you open the doors to the cafeteria. Quickly scanning the room you spot two men sitting at one of the tables.

Praying that this works you turn around to confront the gross man who has now made it inside the cafeteria with you.

"Please leave me alone sir. I have a boyfriend and he's sitting right over there." You tell this man while gesturing to the men behind you.

"Yeah sure you do why don't you go over there and prove it." You take a deep breath as you hoped he wouldn't ask this. But letting out a shaky exhale you turn around and walk towards the table with the two men.

You hear him walking behind you, and as you get closer you can tell that these two men are actually doctors at this hospital.

"Hey sorry I'm late honey! Traffic was crazy getting here! I hope I didn't miss all of your lunch break." You slide in next to the closest guy to you. Which happened to be a ruff looking man in a suit. And as you took a second closer look you noticed the cane that he had under the table.

You give the two men a pleading look before turning back to the catcaller beside the table. "See I told you my boyfriend was here. So now will you please leave me alone."

You can tell that the two men now understand what's happening. The guy sitting across from you sits up straighter and has a more threatening look on his face. And the man that you had sat by lazily puts his arm around you and pulls you in to him more.

"This cripple is your boyfriend? Baby girl I could please you better than this man ever could." You felt the man's arm wrap around you tighter as this creep said this.

"Are you sure about that? Because I make a killer lasagna!" The man across from you rolls his eyes at the other man's comment before turning to look at the creep.

"Sir if you do not leave my friend's girlfriend alone I will have you personally escorted out of this hospital, and then make sure that you never step foot in this hospital again." This got the creepy man to scoff and roll his eyes before making an off handed comment about you not even being hot enough to be worth all this trouble. Before turning around and leaving the cafeteria.

As soon as the door shut behind him you let out a breath of air that you have been holding in, and relax into your seat before turning and looking at the two men that just saved you.

"I am so sorry for interrupting you guys! But also thank you so much for saving me from that creep."

The friendly looking man across from you tells you that it's no problem and that they were happy to help before introducing himself to you.

"I'm Dr. James Wilson and my lovely friend over there is Dr. Gregory House." You tell them your name and before you know it you're having a pleasant conversation with them. Well mostly with Wilson with house butting in with a sarcastic quick every now and again. But a pleasant conversation nonetheless.

That is until Wilson's pager goes off. He apologizes to both of you before leaving the cafeteria briskly. But not before sending a not so subtle wink to House. And that's when you realize that House has yet to take his arm off of your shoulders.

"I should also get going. My niece should be done with her test by now and I've got to get her home." You quickly scribble your number on one of the napkins on the table with a pin from your purse before sliding it over to House.

"Here's my number just in case you want to save me from anymore creepy men." You get up, after House removes his arm from around you, and grab your bag to start leaving.

You're halfway to the door before you hear house talking from behind you. "It's true you know!"

This stops you in your tracks as you turn back around to face House. "What?" You asked bewildered.

"It's true that I make a great lasagna. How about you come over to my place tomorrow night and prove me right." You give him a little smirk before nodding your head and agreeing.

You turn around again and are almost out the cafeteria doors before you hear House talking once again. "I'll text you the deets!" You shake your head in amusement before letting the door shut fully behind you and walking to the elevator to go get your niece.

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Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed my first house fic!

[jobean12-blog]

At First Sight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (maybe he's a Mafia/Mob boss, maybe CEO- either way he's too delicious to ignore)

Word Count: 2,248

Summary: You're out to celebrate with friends when something unexpected happens.

Author's Note: We all know I love Mob/CEO Bucky and skirting that mystery line so you can use your imagination here! Honestly, if he approached me like this I'd just be putty in his hands haha 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, Bucky is pretty forward, fun, drinking and mentions of alcohol but everyone is coherent and able to make clear choices, fingering, semi-public sex, curses

“I’m not sure…?”

You look between your two friends, Sadie, and Nia, and blink several times. “Too much?”

They look at each other then back at you.

“Definitely not!” Sadie squeals.

“And besides,” Nia adds, “the limo’s here. Too late to change!”

The space is dark, loud, and filled with moving bodies. You shove your way up to the bar and shout, “excuse me!” hoping to get the bartender’s attention.

With the music so turned up and so many other people slamming the bar, the bartender doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Heyyyy!” you shout with a slap on the bar.

“I’m not sure he heard you.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, you look up at the man pressed close to you at the crowded bar.

He’s tall. And sexy. And gorgeous. And wearing a smirk that screams trouble…in the best way.

“Yelling won’t work doll,” the man says, motioning to the bartender. “It’s just too damn loud.”

You purse your lips as you try to think of a witty comeback but before you can he continues.

“But lucky for you, he’s my friend so I’ll help you order another round of those shots you seem to love.”

“How do you know what I love to drink?” you start, batting your lashes. “Maybe it’s a Whiskey neat.”

You lift your chin and smile sweetly, waiting for his reply.

“You’ve been ordering the same blue shots all night beautiful.”

Your mouth falls open to respond but nothing comes out.

Has he been watching you all night? Creepy or…amazing?

Instead, you stare and take in his features. Perfection.

The bartender comes over and looks at the man beside you expectantly.

“Three fingers of Whiskey, Steve and whatever the beautiful woman is having. She’s been waiting a bit.”

He turns to you, wearing a lopsided smile. “Will you be having Whiskey too?”

“I think I just might,” you tell your new friend.

“And how many fingers would you like doll?”

He watches you with an innocent expression as he spreads his long fingers out on the bar.

“Did you just…?” you stammer.

“Maybe just start with two,” he says.

A playful smile teases his lips, and you can’t help but stare at them.

“Fine, two fingers,” you say the bartender, “of whiskey…,” and then you give the man beside you a demure smile, “and more shots please.”  

“First time here?” the man asks, his gaze sweeping over you.

“How did you know?”

“I’d remember seeing you angel.”  

Even with his flirty forwardness you can’t seem to find anything that makes you uncomfortable. His eyes are friendly, and he’s standing close but not too close, just enough so you know he wants to be there to talk to you and only you.

You glance back to search for your friends but can’t find them anywhere.

“What are you celebrating tonight?” he asks when your eyes find his again.

“What makes you think I’m here celebrating anything?”

You raise an eyebrow and hold his stare.

“Do you ever just answer a question?” he counters.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your smile and fire back with, “do you ever stop asking questions?”

He laughs, the action lighting up his face and making his eyes crinkle flawlessly at the corners. It makes your stomach flutter.

You hold each other’s gaze for a beat before he continues.

“All the dancing and drinks…seems like a good time…a celebration.”

“Well, you’re right. My friend just got an amazing promotion at work.”

He smiles triumphantly and you smile back.

“So, there’s no chance you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”

The bartender sets your drinks down in front of you just as your new eye candy finishes the sentence and you grab for your glass, downing as much as you can before you start to choke.

With a laugh the man takes a long and slow sip of his Whiskey, watching you. You put your half empty glass down on the bar with a dramatic bang and exhale.

“I…what? No!”

“That’s too bad,” he replies.

“You just met me,” you argue.

“And since the moment you walked in you’ve had my full attention,” he admits.

The shots seem to hit you all at once and you sway on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle but strong hand on your arm.

“Easy doll.”

“Ok…stop being so charming. The smiling and the touching… I like it way too much. It makes me want things…and we’ve only just met.”

“What kinds of things?” he asks, voice smooth like silk and deep.

You swallow hard and he tracks the movement of your throat before his eyes linger on your lips.

You gather up the shots for the girls. “We’re going to do these.”

He nods, slowly, his smile growing.

“So…um. I’ll see you later…?”

You wait, hoping he’ll give you his name.

“James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Ok then, see you later Bucky.”

“I sure hope so angel.”

You find your friends at a table, catching their breath, and set down the shots.

“I met the hottest guy.”

Both friends pause with the drinks halfway to their mouths.

“What the hell are you doing here then?” Sadie asks.

“Girl’s night, we’re celebrating,” you say. “Duh.”

“Fuck that, go dance with the hot guy!” Nia shouts.

You lift your glass to your lips and shake your head. “No way, I’m here to dance with you all! Let’s go!”

You polish off the shot, wait for them to do the same then hold out your hands to pull them onto the dance floor.

The beat of the music surrounds you and you let go, forgetting routine and responsibility and just enjoying the moment.

Sadie yells something to you about the song that just started but you don’t quite catch it. Just behind her, set in the shadows off the side of the bar stands Bucky.

Your eyes meet and neither of you look away.

He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to be caught staring at you. Every inch of your skin heats and when he lifts his glass, takes a sip, and smiles, you smile back…and start to move…just for him.

The hem of your dress inches higher as you lift your arms above your head, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music and getting lost in it. Your friends move closer and lean in.

“You’ve attracted an audience,” Sadie chuckles.

She whips her head to the side to point out the group of guys moving closer. You ignore the group and search the shadows for Bucky but he’s nowhere to be seen.

With unexpected disappointment you grab Sadie and tell her you need to use the ladies room, weaving your way though the crowd and off the dance floor. You follow the signs to the second floor, which is essentially a balcony overlooking the rest of the space.

After freshening up you walk out of the door and right into something hard. Bucky grips your biceps lightly, holding you close.

“You ok?” he asks.

You were standing close to him at the bar, but not this close, not close enough to smell his skin and feel the rise and fall of his chest. It makes you heady, but you manage a nod.

“Hi angel,” he smiles.

“Hi.”

“I was enjoying watching you dance.”

“I noticed.”

You hold his gaze, unable to look away. Down at the bar it was hard to tell the color of his eyes, but here, hidden away, even in the low light you can see they’re beautiful. The blue is like the ocean on a sparkling sunny day. Mesmerizing.

“Do you know what watching you does to me?”

You blink, trying your hardest to keep up with his directness.

He reaches down to take your hand, his grip loose and his movements tentative, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

When you don’t he presses it firmly to where he’s hard and aching.

“All this?” you ask in a breathy whisper. “Just from watching me?”

“Come home with me.”

You let out a little giggle.

“No. I can’t.”

“Come to my car then.”

“I’m not leaving this club with you.”

Even as you hear yourself say the words you know they aren’t holding the force you want them to.

He bends and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“But I’m dying to touch you.”

It’s impossible to pretend you don’t want the same thing and you place your palms on his chest and push him backward into the darkness.

“Is that a yes?” he asks as he runs a long finger over the curve of your shoulder.

“You aren’t some psycho are you?”

With a chuckle he moves closer, brushing his lips along your cheek. “You make me feel a bit crazy doll, but no, I’m not.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head, whispering against his lips, “something tells me I can trust you.”

He moves willingly, and meets you with a smile, pressing his lips to yours.

“You taste as good as you look angel. What’s your name?”

“My name?” you whisper, so caught up in the feel of him you almost forgot.

“You know my name, so you’ll know what to call me when you’re about to come. It’s only fair I do the same.”

You let out a little gasp and hold onto his shoulders more tightly.

“I…,”

You feel his smile against your mouth before he turns you and presses your front to the edge of the balcony overlooking everything below.

He takes your chin between his fingers to turn your head and steal another kiss, lingering until you whisper your name against his lips.

With a satisfied smile his fingers tease the edge of your dress and then he lifts it, sliding his hands down between your legs to rub along your panties.

“You’re so wet. And all for me angel.”

You moan loudly when he slides a long finger inside you and presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs into your ear as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

You turn and look at him. His eyes are wide open and clear. He teases you more, watching your every reaction then turns you to face him and drags you against the wall, bending to kiss you, hard and hungry.

“Someone could come down here,” he reminds you, meeting your eyes, giving you one last out.

You don’t care. He’s too perfect. He feels too good.

When you don’t protest he kneels at your feet and carefully pushes up your dress, hooking his thumbs into your panties to slowly drag them down.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, standing and lifting your leg to spread you open.

Reaching between your bodies, you open his jeans and push them down along with his boxers. You grab for him, rubbing him through your arousal.

“Fuck doll, wait. I need to put this on.”

He reaches behind him and fumbles for the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a condom free.

“You’re big,” you whisper, loving the feel of his warm, silky skin.

His grin is wolfish. “That’s the best thing you could say to me.”

You run your closed hand along the length of him again, letting the tip just bump your clit.

“Fuck, keep that up and I’ll be coming all over your hand.”

His fingers are unsteady as he works to slip the condom on.

“Have you done this before?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off his cock.

“Have sex with a beautiful woman in a public space?”

He starts to push into you, achingly slowly. “No angel, I’ve never done this before…but with you, I’ll take what I can get.”

His words die away when he’s fully inside you, rubbing against your clit with each stroke and filling you so completely. You grip his shoulders as his thrusts grow faster.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He leans back and looks down between your bodies, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second before he starts to move faster.

When he leans down to kiss you he slows his movements, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in. The slow pace doesn’t last long, and he hitches your leg higher to go deeper.

You feel your release building in your stomach and it’s only a few seconds more before a cry falls from your parted lips.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, his hips moving jaggedly and rough before he comes with a deep groan.

He leans heavily against you, pressing his lips to your neck. “You’ve wrecked me angel.”

His hand is gentle when it smooths along your leg, and he pulls out. You straighten your dress as he rolls off the condom.

“That was perfect Bucky,” you hum, meeting him for a kiss.

He nods, dazed. “You’re ok?”

“Better than ok,” you answer. “And I think I’m ready for another dance.”

His lips twitch with a surprised grin and you turn away before he can respond, leaving him standing with his pants still unbuttoned.

A few minutes later you find Sadie and Nia, both ready to head home. And it isn’t until you’re sitting in the quiet of the limo, reliving every second of what happened with Bucky, that you realize you’d left your panties on the floor at his feet.

[aikaterini-drag]

Shower Ride

Pairing: August x fem reader

Summary: your boyfriend Augusts gives you a shower ride 😉

Warnings: 18+!!,minors dni, explicit smut, fingering, oral male receiving, p in v sex, cockwarming at the end.

It was a quiet night, the city sounds muffled from your apartment.

Walking on tiptoes, you made your way to your boyfriend’s office. You peeked through the half-opened door, and even though he was deep into his work, August, being the agent he was, seemed to sense your presence. He gave you a soft smile before returning to his laptop.

He remained at his desk, completely absorbed in analyzing the profile for one of his upcoming missions. He had been at it for hours, poring over details and taking work calls with his team. Coffee after coffee, he had barely eaten, and only finished the sandwich you had made for him an hour ago because you insisted.

He looked so dangerously handsome. Sitting so big and towering in his office, making the space seem so small with his broad shoulders and possessive presence. His physique was honed from years of intense physical training and demanding missions.

His eyes, those piercing blue globes were focused on the laptop screen, his long fingers typing away. A few strands of dark hair fell across his forehead. His jaw was tight, chiseled jawline sporting a shadow of stubble along with his mustache.

August still wore his perfectly tailored dark suit though he’d loosened his tie and discarded his blazer. The crisp white dress shirt was undone by a few buttons, revealing a hint of curls on his chest.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you said, hoping to tempt him away from his work. He’d done so much; he needed a break, a rewarding fuck and some well-deserved sleep.

He didn’t look up from his laptop. “Hmm.”

With a soft grimace, you headed to the bathroom and slipped off your clothing. You’d have to work harder on your seductions skills. After taking a shower, you’d try again—maybe slip into some sexy lingerie and surprise him at his desk.

You stepped into the shower and turned on the taps, adjusting the water temperature until it was just right. Standing under the warm spray, you closed your eyes, letting the water soothe your tired muscles. Lost in the relaxing flow, you didn’t hear the door open, nor sense August as he slipped into the shower with you.

And, damn what a sight he was. Fully naked, tall and bunching with muscles. His hands were etched with veins, his stomach flat and chiseled, his thighs thick and powerful. And in between his legs, his rigid cock protruded almost angrily, so hard and long that it reached up to his bellybutton.

Your belly gave a little somersault, your inner goddess satisfied.

You smiled. “You know, you really need to stop sneaking up on me. It’s kind of creepy.”

August chuckled as he closed the shower door and stood behind you. “I’m sorry, love. I was so focused that I barely heard you. By the time I did…”

“You’ve done too much work today. You must take a break.”

He beaned in, his breath warm against your neck. “You are absolutely right.”

He trailed kisses down your neck, his hands traveling over your arms, thighs and your belly before cupping the weight of your breasts. He cradled them in his palms, thumbs toying with your nipples. You leaned back in his chest, taking deep intakes of breath.

“I didn’t give my girl much attention today. I need to make it up to her,” his deep voice rumbled, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hmn.” You hummed but he turned your head and claimed your lips in a kiss. His tongue explored your mouth, warm and probing as it swirled around yours.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, and you complied, spreading your thighs. “That’s my good girl.”

A finger teased your pussy lips, rubbing round and round and you couldn’t help but moan against his mouth. He still kissed you, while he gathered with your slickness, toying with your clit. Rubbing, tapping, curling and then penetrating you with a thick finger. He did it over and over again.

Your knees wobbled, and he steadied you with a hand around your waist as you climaxed, mewling and gasping in bliss.

“That’s it,” he drawled, his finger pumping gently in your sensitive walls. “Sweet pussy drenching my fingers.”

“Want you,” you muttered, your head a little fuzzy.

“You have me—”

“Want to suck you.”

“Then suck.”

All you could do was whimper and get to your knees before him. August turned off the taps, and moved away your wet hair from your face. One hand cupped his heavy balls while the other pumped his turgid cock. Your tongue travelled up the length of it, following a rigid vein up to the purple tip. Groaning, he lowered his knees so you could reach him better, his hands running up and down your sides.

“Open.” His command was husky.

You opened your mouth and hollowed your cheeks as he slid down your throat. The head touched the back of your throat and you shallowed hard to stop yourself from gagging. He was too big, but he had trained you to take him deep, as deep as possible. Taking deep breaths from your nose, you cupped the cock that didn’t fit and toyed with his sack.

“That’s it. Get me nice and warm, baby,” he said darkly, his fingers pinching your nipples.

August’s hands fisted in your hair, pulling back the entire length of his dick. You licked a wide stripe up his dick then took it back inside your warm mouth. Making correct eye contact, you worked your tongue, and relished in the sight of your man so deep in pleasure.

With only your mouth around him, you had him under your control. With a surge of arousal, you sucked him in earnest, your hands digging into his flexing hips. Lewd sounds encased the shower until he was so out of his mind with pleasure he had to jerk your head away.

He pushed you to your feet and pressed you against the cool tiles, lifting you against his hard body. Your legs wrapped around him, arms locking around his neck. He lined his cock, you were so slick and ready that he surged upwards in one smooth glide. You shut your eyes at the overwhelming stretch and the fullness of him inside you.

“My perfect pussy.”

“My perfect cock.”

He smiled before pulling your mouth to his.

From there on, you lost track of time. You could only feel his steady pumps and the hard girth of him pounding into you. You could only hear his feral growls as he grabbed your asscheeks and thrust you up and down on him, making you take him deep, deeper still.

You moaned without end, running your fingers down his hair, digging your nails into his back and running tongue over his throat.

His thrusts were in perfect sync, sharp and hitting that sensitive spot inside you.

“Oh, like that.” Your heels dug into his tight ass. “D-Don’t stop.”

August didn’t stop, he kept going in the exact same rhythm, changing nothing.

Sweet death. You came hard around him, blabbering his name, crying out incomprehensible sweet words. He followed right after, tensing balls deep inside you, pumping his load inside you with wild abandon.

“Fucking hell.” He sighed against your breasts. “That was so fucking good.”

“Fucking hell indeed.” You grinned, caressing his nape.

“Want to fuck you all night,” he mumbled, taking your nipple into his mouth.

“I want that, too.”

“I must bathe you first.” Holding onto your thighs and keeping himself deep inside you, he sat back on the marble shower seat.

“We’ll bathe? Like this?” you asked incredulously. “You can’t keep me lodged to your cock, August, seriously—”

August grinned and slapped your bum lightly. “Quiet.”

“Cockwarming lover.”

Bringing one hand to cup the back of your neck, he claimed your lips. You moaned against him, rubbing your nipples against his chest. Unintentionally, your hips moved against him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone.

“Such a demanding woman,” he drawled against your lips, one corner of his mouth turned up.

“Shut up.”

“Who can’t have enough of my dick now?”

You didn’t manage to answer because he took your breath away with his touches, thrusting and rubbing until the both of you gasped into each other’s mouths and came once again.

[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: Hollowed, Washed and Dried

Sometimes, you're not even looking for a new bodysuit, but the opportunity just *falls* into your lap. It's like the bodysuit is hunting you down instead, teasing you with its sexy, hunky physique.

I was just walking to the laundromat when I spotted him—an absolute hot hunk—putting his clothes into the washing machine. He was wearing these tight orange shorts, and when he bent over, his huge ass just *popped* out. Like, seriously, I couldn’t look away.

He had no clue what kind of attention he was drawing. Poor guy was just trying to get himself some clean clothes. But, honestly? I didn’t care.

Unlike him, I would get myself more than just some clean clothes today. I reached into my bag and pulled out the syringe—I always carry one with me, just in case. With a quick move, I jabbed the needle into the hunk’s ass. He shouted, but the bodysuit serum worked fast. The effect was nearly instant.

Before he could even react, I pushed him forward, shoving him head-first into the washing machine entrance. He tried to fight me, but it was too late. He was already half hollowed. He stood no chance.

Shoving such a massive guy into a washing machine wasn’t an easy task, but with every second, he seemed to deflate. It got easier. His upper body was already inside, so I pushed him by his ass. I confess that I couldn't hold myself and took a few squeezes of that ass. Unfortunately, it was deflated by then, there was barely anything left to squeeze at.

When his white socket feet were the last thing left to shove in, I pushed them inside, then grabbed my laundry basket—full of dirty clothes and used underwear—and threw it in on top of the bodysuit.

I then pressed the button to start the cycle. The washing machine roared to life, and I watched as the bodysuit—along with my dirty clothes—spun in the drum. I could see his slacked face mask swirling against the glass door, it was both creepy and funny at the same time.

Just then, an old lady walked into the laundromat and I immediately got myself in front of the machine to not give the old lady a heart attack. I then waited for my clothes—and my soon-to-be body—to get cleaned and dried.

When the cycle finished, and I was sure no one was watching, I pulled the hunky bodysuit out of the machine—It was shining and smelling of soap—I folded it up to fit into my laundry basket, then threw my clean clothes on top to cover it. The basket was heavy, but nothing I couldn't handle.

As I walked back to my place, I couldn’t wait to slip into my new body, take it out for a spin—and make good use of that ass. There was a gay pub nearby, and that ass was definitely going to turn some heads, just like it did with mine.

[luvyeni]

❛NICE GUY❜ ( l. haechan )

p. stalker!haechan x fem!reader w. 2k+

warnings? dark fic, stalking, non consensual photo taking, unprotected sex

— 𖦹 ( in the midst of your stalker running lose you trust haechan , he seems like nice guy ) !

freaktober masterlist

“what’s his name?” your friend asked , her senses going off. “lily , i told you already.” you sighed annoyed , you had been talking about this date for the past week , but your friend had been skeptical. “it’s haechan.”

“well I’m sorry for being concerned for your well being.” your friend said. “especially with all those weird messages you’ve been getting , and plus you don’t know this guy , he could be crazy.”

your friend , although her nagging was annoying , she was right , it was a big risk meeting haechan – also known as donghyuck , you had been getting weird messages and pictures from a random number for the past few weeks , this stalker had known all your information - where’d you work , your address. he even knew where your childhood home was – it was super creepy.

you had found hyuck on dating site about two weeks ago , and he seemed like a nice guy. he was cute , held a good job at a good company – and of course to make sure he wasn’t catfishing you , you’d facetimed a few times before agreeing to meet him at a bar.

so hear you are , at 9pm walking to the bar listening to your friend nag you over the phone. “lily , listen.” you interrupt her rant. “I know you’re worried – the stalker thing creeps me out too , but what should i do? i can’t stay in the house forever.” you said. “plus i’ve talked to haechan , i’ve seen his face and he genuinely seems nice.”

your friend sighed in defeat. “i know you want me to be safe , but it’s fine , plus the bar will be crowded.” you reassured. “okay fine , you win.” she said. “just be safe , and don’t go home with him.” you hummed , the bar came into view. “i won’t , i’ll see you later okay?” you said. “okay , please call me when you’re on your way home.” you agreed , hanging the phone up , pulling the bar door open , walking in. if you’d only turned back once , looked around at your surroundings just once – you would’ve realized that you were being followed since the moment you walked out the house.

you sat down at the bar , the bartender coming up asking for your order. “oh i’m meeting someone , he should be here in a few minutes.” you smiled politely , he nodded excusing himself to take another order. you decided to text him , opening up your phone to text him , only to be met with 2 new messages , but not from haechan – but from your stalker. ‘you look sexy in that dress.’ your eyes scanned the messages. ‘have fun tonight my love’

he knew you were out on a date? had he been watching you? was he still watching you? you began to sweat , anxiety slowly kicking in – what were you supposed to do now , what if he was watching you now. “(y/n)?” you gasped , jumping , quickly swiveling your body around. “whoa! you okay?”

you sighed , heartbeat coming back down after you came face to face with the man. “haechan.” you said , he smiled. “you okay , you seemed scared?” you nodded , he sat down next to you. “i’m okay , just a bit nervous.” more like scared shitless , but you didn’t want to let him know that. “nervous?” he smirked. “meeting me made you nervous , i’m flattered.”

he sat down , the waiter returning to take your orders , bringing you your drinks , while you got to know each other. “so tell me about you.” you told him what you did for a living , your family even about lily your best friend. “she wasn’t too keen on me coming here alone.” you said. “she’s just a little overprotective , but she means well.” he nodded. “i get it , her best friend is going out with a random dude , i’d be a little weary to , maybe if this goes right , i can prove one day that i’m a nice guy.”

he was such an absolute blessing , like the perfect guy. he was attentive , he listen to everything you said – funny , not even a try hard , he genuinely made you laugh. he was also extremely flirty , not enough to make you uncomfortable , but just enough to make you shy away with a smile , as the date was coming to a end , you felt sad. “why are you frowning , a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sad?” you smiled , his hand coming up to rub your knuckles. “you are just such a great guy , i just don’t want this date to end.” he smiled , your lips fell into a pout. “it doesn’t have to end here.”

that’s how you found yourself in his car , driving around the city to his condo. “i promised lily i’d come home early , she’s gonna be so mad.” you said , pulling your phone out to text her. “you’re safe with me , i promise.” you smiled , you did feel really safe around him , you felt no sense of danger around him , no red flags going off in your head.

he had your hand in one hand , typing in the passcode to his condo , letting you walk in. “this is really nice.” you took your shoes off. “you must do really well for yourself.” he followed behind you as you walked around. “well i do alright , i work at a tech company.” he was checking all of your boxes , good job , kind , sexy as hell.

“computer nerd , so your sexy and smart.” he came up behind you , his hands ghosting your waist. “sexy huh?” he nose nudged against your neck , you sighed. “yeah.” you breathed , he kissed your neck. “you’re sexy too , been trying to be a gentleman all night long , it was so hard.”

things only escalated from there , he dragged you to his room , unzipping your dress letting it fall the ground. “such a pretty body.” he unbuttoned his shirt , letting it hit the floor , grabbing your jaw , slamming his lips into yours. teeth clashing , messy kissing as he backed you up until you fell onto the bed , undoing his pants. “lay back baby.”

he climbed on top of your body , heavy breathing – his hand coming under your body , undoing your bra , throwing it across his floor. he grabbed your boobs , bringing his lips around it. “fu-fuck haechan.” you moaned , your hands tracing his body until you reached his clothed cock , palming his hard-on. “off , take them off.”

he got off the bed taking his pants off , you took your panties off. he got back on the bed , grabbing your waist , putting you in the face down ass up position. “so fucking wet.” he grabbed the fat of your ass , spreading your cheeks , his face close to your cunt , spitting on your hole , before licking a stripe up your cunt. “h-haechan , oh my god!” you squealed as he ate your cunt like he was starving.

he inserted a finger into your hole , fingering you as he licked your cunt. “you taste so fucking good , pussy is so fucking sweet , want you to cum on my tongue.” he buried his face in your cunt , slurping up all your juices. “haechan , i’m gonna cum!” you were moaning so loud , haechan was sure he’d get a noise complaint , but he didn’t care at that moment , especially when your little hole was clenching around his tongue , signaling that you were close. “fuck , i’m cumming!”

your legs shook as you came , he drank up all your juices , making sure to clean you up real well , before finally coming up for air. “shit , your pussy taste so good , gonna get addicted to it.” he slapped your ass , you moaned , backing your ass up against his cock. “pl-please fuck me.”

he damn sure wasn’t denying you , pulling his underwear down , his cock springing out , slapping against his stomach. “you ready for my cock?” he rubbed his cock along your folds. “yes.” you whimpered. “please put it in.” you wiggled your ass. “want it so bad.”

he pushed his cock into your hole , holding your waist as he seethed his cock all the way inside your hole. “fucking tight cunt.” he pulled out , slamming back into you. “haechan fuck!” you screamed as he rammed into you , cock stretching you out. “fuck your pussy feels like heaven around my cock.”

he pushed your back deep into a arch , hitting a deeper angle , the ass rippling at the impact of him rutting into you. “look at that ass bouncing against me.” he slapped your ass. “beautiful baby , fucking beautiful.” He groaned. “you were made for me , made for my cock , i knew it the moment i saw you.” he grunted. “i knew only you’d be able to take my fat cock.”

you could barely register what he was saying , your mind on cloud 9. “did i do it? did I fuck you dumb?” he darkly chuckled , he could feel your cunt pulsating around him. “you’re gonna cum , i can feel your pretty pussy tightening around me.” he moaned. “go ahead cum for me.” he slapped your ass. “cum on my fucking cock.”

your mouth fell into a ‘o’ shape , eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came , screaming his name. “fuck fuck fuck !” your legs were shaking as he kept slamming into you. “fuck i’m gonna cum , gonna cum on your back.” his thrust began to falter , his falter , his quickly pulled out , cum shooting from his cock on to your back , all over your ass , dripping down to your cunt.

you fell flat on your stomach , worn out. haechan hovered over your body , heavily breathing taking in the sight of your body. “you look beautiful.” he kissed your shoulder. “took my cock like a champ.”

you had fallen asleep , still covered in his cum , haechan promised to clean you off , and he was , he just wanted to look at his work a little longer. he slowly got up , careful not to wake you , reaching for his trusty polaroid camera – cursing as your phone went off , your body twisting and turning at the noises. he picked up the phone reading the contact ‘lily🤎’ , he sighed , he knew from the very beginning she’d be a problem , he’d have to get rid of her sooner or later.

he turned the ringer off , putting the phone down , picking up the camera. he took a photo of your body from every angle , zooming in on your ass , his cum beginning to harden , he had to be quick. he quickly put the camera away after all the photos developed , he made his way out of the room. “haechan?” your voice groggy , he held the photos behind his back , turning around. “gonna get you a rag to clean you up with , go back to sleep.” you nodded drifting back off.

haechan made his way down the hall , to his special room , unlocking the door , walking inside where he is greeted with the hundreds , maybe thousands of photos of you – eating with friends , at work , coming out of your family home after dinner. his cock getting hard again , as he hung up the photos of you covered and his cum ,hanging up the last photo - the picture he took of you sitting at bar fear evident on your face.

it was because moments before he sent that text about how sexy you looked in that dress.

©LUVYENI

[macfrog]

you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

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[gallavichsreddie1128]

Halloween Party (Wade/Logan)

Description: Y/N, Wade and Logan have fun on the dance floor at their Halloween party.

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,128

Request: nsfw mayhaps.. but Logan and Wade with a Younger!Witchy reader between like 19-21 ish? (witch practitioner not a blood witch) shes chubby, looks like a witch, acts like a witch? maybe she wears a costume witches hat for halloween and ride logan while wade makes out with her and just praises her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Author’s note: I didn’t talk too much about the reader’s size in this but she is 22 and she is a witch for halloween but it’s implied she’s a real witch.

Logan watched her as she walked around in her Halloween costume getting ready for the party. He wasn’t one for Halloween but since he and Wade moved in with Y/N who they saved from the void, he was alright with it. Y/N was way younger than them. 22 to be exact and though Logan would usually feel creepy about something like that, he actually couldn’t due to her being flirty with him.

She was incredibly sexy right now? Oh he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was dressed like a witch and all he wanted to do was take her up against the counter in the costume. “Logan?” He snapped out of his daydream and looked at her as she gave him a confusing look. “What?” “Can you grab the cups from the cabinet?” She asked. He stood up and went to grab them for her. He was embarrassed to say the least. She called his name 3 times before she got an answer. Maybe he was distracted about the party?

He wasn’t one for that type of scene. “Anything else?” He asked and she shook her head and moved past him. His eyes never left her as she moved around the kitchen. Wade coming through the door was the only thing that made him come out of distraction. “Hello party bitches!” Wade said through the kitchen. Y/N greeted him and Logan raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed. “Here is your alcohol.” He handed Logan the bottle and handed Y/N her mixer for her drink that she was making.

Logan took a sip of his drink as he watched her make whatever she was making. He didn’t care for the fruity drink she was making. He liked the rough stuff like whiskey and she hated that. But he would watch her do anything. “You’re staring too hard.” Wade whispered to him, knocking him out of his daydream. He glared at him and Wade shrugged, “The plan won’t work if you make it so obvious.” 

Everyone was here for the party and though Wade was having the time of his life talking to all of his friends, Logan was hard as a rock watching Y/N dance in her costume. The dress was short and showed off her body perfectly. It was like she wore it to make him act up. She was teasing him.

But to Y/N she was doing no such thing and just having fun. Logan was going to stay and relax while Wade made his way over to their little witch. “Hey Wade.” Y/N yelled over the music. “Hey pretty girl, do you wanna dance?” He asked and she nodded. “As long as you can hide your boner.” She joked and he chuckled, “No promises. Especially if you’re grinding up against me.” He whispered in her ear.

She felt the heat pool between her legs at his words but ignored it as they began to dance. Logan watched as the two were all over each other and grinding in the living room. He bit his lip and his eyes moved to their bodies’ middle as her perfect ass moved against Wade’s crotch. It was so sexual and passionate but that’s just how they were when they danced. Logan’s pants were tighter than before and he couldn’t help but walk over to the pair. “Hey peanut!” Wade yelled to him over the music.

Y/N looked at him and gave him a sexy smile. He watched as she grinded harder against Wade and took his hands. She pulled Logan to her front and he looked down at her with a dark stare. “Dance with us.” She says to him and he chuckled, “You guys are basically fucking.” He tells her to which she can’t deny. She takes her hand and runs it up Logan’s hard on.

He nearly gasps and she chuckles, “You’re so hard Loggie, Join us.” She said and bit her lip. “Come on Wolvy, I’m close to cumming all over her ass.” Y/N heard that and pulled away from Wade and took Logan’s hands. He watched as she positioned herself so her ass was against his crotch now and started grinding. She started out slow at first building him up. Wade was a noisy fucker during sex, how was he silent during this if Logan was having a hard time not making noise?

He realized that the music was loud enough to cover up the noises. “Fuck.” He grunted feeling her ass hump his crotch. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the living room floor for everyone to see but he was better than that. Wade got in front of her as she grinded her hips against Logan and sighed, “Fuck this is hot.” He said and Logan agreed. “You’re a perfect piece of ass, sweetheart.” He told her as his hands gripped her hips.

Wade got closer to her and his hand traveled down to her short dress and went under it to her soaking wet panties. “Damn sweetheart, you and I both are soaked.” Wade said and she gasped as he began rubbing her clit. She was aching so bad and he could tell. He got close to her and began kissing her as Logan whispered dirty things in her ear. “I bet being between 2 older guys gets you going, doesn’t it?” He bit her ear as she moaned into the kiss that Wade was giving her.

His fingers rubbed faster against her gushy aching needy pussy and she was losing it. “Our perfect witch. I wouldn’t be surprised if you casted a spell on us. Haven’t even had a taste of your pussy but I miss it.” “Fuck.” She whined against Wade’s lips. She was close and it was taking everything in her not to cum right at the party. Everyone was dancing or doing their own thing but she felt filthy dancing and seducing 2 older guys, the guys that she lived with.

“Fuck sweetheart, you keep this up I’m gonna cum all over your ass.” He warns her and Wade sped his fingers up causing her to grab him and gasp as her high approached. Her hips stuttered making Logan grunt and cum in his pants. She wailed against Wade as she came in her panties.

Her breathing was hard as Wade worked his fingers to help her ride her climax. Logan rubbed her back to calm her down while Wade held her in his arms. “Fuck that was hot.” Wade growled and watched as she gave him a smile. Logan chuckled, “Huh we are the old ones but yet you’re tired.” He joked and she laughed and yawned. “Oh sweetheart and peanut. I have yet to cum so we aren’t finished just yet.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 27

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; lots and lots of pregnancy stuff (kinda gross toward the last)

A/N: We are now exiting my area of expertise with pregnancy. Google will be my friend. If I made mistakes, please just pretend I didn’t. lol

Opening your eyes, you had to immediately squint against the morning sun. It couldn’t be later than eight o’clock, give or take a few minutes. You were still in the same room Hershel had put you in two days ago, only allowed up to walk around, use the bathroom, and join for meals if you would like. Hershel had said you could still do light chores with no bending or reaching above your head, but Daryl had forbidden it without even saying a word. So, you mostly rested and focused on taking in enough water. Carl or Beth would bring each person’s bag so you could go through and inventory the contents, ensuring all the supplies were making it from each escape and taking note of any new supplies added. 

Stretching your legs, you winced at the ache in your pelvis. “Christ, Thumps. Why do you have to sit right on my bladder first thing in the morning?”

“S’prolly like a pillow.” 

You already wore a smirk when your head rolled toward the door, finding Daryl in the chair working on his crossbow. Did it really take that much upkeep? Or was he just that meticulous? Cradling your belly, you eased onto your side to face him, propping yourself on your elbow with your cheek on your palm. 

“Most women would find it creepy to wake up with a man watching them while tinkering with a weapon.” 

His hands kept moving but he looked up with a smirk of his own, a dark brow arched. “But not you?”

You shook your head against your hand, smiling gently. “Not me.” He laughed with a breath through his nose and refocused on what he was doing. You had to push yourself up on your arm and shimmy around a bit to get into an actual seated position. Your belly was warm and heavy against your upper thighs, a hand or foot pressing out next to your navel. You poked it and chuckled when it disappeared and popped right back out. “Good morning, baby.” 

In your peripheral, you could see Daryl had stilled, felt his eyes on you. He was watching the interaction in silence, as he usually did. Just as you watched his interactions without a word. You started to invite him over, but the baby shifted, the weight on your full bladder doubling and the discomfort growing tenfold. 

“Okay, time to pee. Like—yesterday.”

Your partner was already getting to his feet and standing next to the bed before you even maneuvered your way to the edge of the mattress. Daryl leaned forward for you to grab his biceps while his hands found purchase beneath your arms and pulled you the remainder of the way with what appeared to be little to no effort. Using the hold he still had on you, he lifted you straight up and let you find your footing. Your protruding stomach was pressed against him, immediately squashing any hope you had of stealing a kiss.

You looked up at him with a silly pout that instantly disappeared in the face of the tiny one-sided lift of his lips. He’d smiled at you before; hell, he’d even laughed at and with you. But this? This was the most peaceful, truest smile you had ever seen him wear. 

And then it was gone, replaced with a scowl that was half hearted at best. “What’s with the face?” 

“Nothing.” You brushed your fingers over his left temple at the same time that you felt his hands on either side of your belly. “As sweet as this moment is and as much as I love you, if we don’t get me somewhere to empty my bladder within the next two point three seconds—well, remember when I vomited on your boots?” 

“Gross.” Daryl’s lip curled. He knew where you were taking that implication and urged you toward the door with a hand on the small of your back. “Just walk. Or—waddle.” When you snapped your head around to gape at him, he was utterly stoic.

“I swear I’m gonna strap a watermelon to your stomach and we’ll see how sexy you can strut.”

The archer snorted, following you out the door.

You were impressed that you could still move as fast as you were, dodging and ducking, with Carol’s hand tight in one of yours. Your bag was on your shoulder, bouncing against your back, and your other hand braced the swell of your belly. The other woman was watchful, taking out anything that she knew you couldn’t get around. Daryl was at your heels, stabbing walkers that stumbled out from the sides.

“Get ‘er outta here, Carol!” He roared from behind you, sounding further away than you were entirely comfortable with, but he always said run, don’t look back. You had promised to listen to him. It’s how you kept the peace when you were just as stubborn as him. Each of you gave a little.

“I’m trying!” Carol hissed out through gritted teeth, letting go of your hand to push back a walker while she stabbed another. Your knife sheath was unsecured, the weapon easily accessible, but you had promised to only use it when absolutely necessary. The walker that Carol had shoved turned in a stagger that led it straight toward you. In your book, that qualified as necessary. You took it down with ease, unable to admit how good it felt to protect yourself because another took its place. And another. And another. “Go! Get to the truck!” 

You had the keys. Daryl always made sure you carried them now. You were perfectly capable of hot-wiring a vehicle but he didn’t want you wasting time. The two of you never discussed what would happen if he made it to the truck and you never did. He would never entertain the thought. Not for a moment. 

You gave Carol a look, one that said you knew you had to listen to her, to Daryl but that it was definitely not what you wanted to do. And then you ran, stabbing if needed, dodging when you could. There were so fucking many. You could hear the yells of the others making their way to the van, sending up a silent prayer that they all made it. Your lungs were on fire by the time you saw the truck. It should have been a straight shot but someone—who had yet to come clean because you were all running for your lives—had left the gate open and allowed the dead to fill the driveway.

You caught yourself against the cold metal passenger door, fumbling for the handle before jerking it open. You had lifted one foot into the cab when the door was forced inward, slamming it against the side of your head. With a shout, you pushed back, scrambling to get inside the truck while your ears rang and your vision blurred. How many head injuries were you going to rack up within a year? Hands were grabbing at you, pulling at your bag, your clothes, your hair. Finally, you were on the seat, holding the door tight while two arms and several hands kept you from closing it.

“Fuck!”

Their snarls and moans were so loud that you couldn’t hear anything beyond them and the steady knell in your ears. Hands hit the driver’s side window. More walkers. Daryl wasn’t there. Carol wasn’t there. You’d never be able to get across the seat to start the truck before at least one was in the cab with you, maybe more. 

But goddamnit, you had to try.  

It was the only option left. You had to save Thumper and that meant saving yourself. It was what Daryl made you promise.

Holding the door with one hand, you leaned and fumbled with the key against the ignition. “Come on!” After a few more tries, a few more agonizing seconds, the key slid home. “Yes!” You let the bag slide from your shoulder and to the floorboard. Turning yourself to put your feet against the door while still holding the handle was some seriously uncomfortable gymnastics shit but you didn’t hold the position long. Pushing against the door with your feet, you both propelled yourself toward the steering wheel and knocked back the walkers that had been blocking you. 

The seat was left between where it needed to be for you or Daryl to be able to drive. You could fix it later but you could fit well enough to get the fuck out of there. Turning the key, the engine barely started before you were throwing the shifter into drive. There were thumps that indicated a few had climbed into the bed but you could deal with that later. 

Mowing down walker after walker, you nearly sobbed when you saw the taillights of the van. The others had made it. Had everyone made it? Maybe Daryl and Carol were with them. It took only a few moments to get far enough away to stop. You pulled off the road, just behind the van, your passenger door hanging open. The truck rocked, reminding you that there were still the walkers in the bed, but as people filed out of the van, there was no Carol. No Daryl. 

And your world came to a screeching halt. “No.” You whispered against the hand you pressed to your mouth. Your other hand gripped the fabric of your coat over your stomach. Rick would never let the walkers get into the truck so you placed your head against the steering wheel and let the tears fall. How would you do this without Daryl? How could you live without him? The man you loved was gone and you knew in your heart of hearts that you needed to go back, face the herd, find him—along with Carol—and put them down. You wouldn’t leave them to walk. You couldn’t. You needed closure. A grave to visit if possible.

When the driver’s side door opened, you sobbed even harder, knowing Rick could never know how to comfort you. Your arms wrapped around your belly, your apologies to little Thumper for never being able to meet their father were choked down by each jerk of your shoulders, each wet breath. Distantly, inwardly, you hoped for a boy that you knew you would name DJ. You hoped he would be the spitting image of Daryl. 

“Christ, ya drive like a maniac. Ya hurt? Baby okay?”

You straightened so quickly that your belly bumped the steering wheel and you felt a twinge of pain in your back. Daryl—a little worse for wear—was standing at the door, staring at you like nothing had happened.

“Dar—how—” You sobbed.

“Jumped in the back ‘fore ya could peel outta there. Carol too.” He tilted his head and studied you, his eyes raking over you before stopping on the right side of your head. “Ya alright?” You didn’t even register his arm lifting, but then his calloused fingertips were touching a tender spot just behind your right temple. You hissed but that pain meant nothing. “Hey, talk to me.”

As quickly as you could manage with your rounded middle, you launched yourself at him, falling into his chest with his arms instantly encircling you beneath your own. He walked forward and pushed you back onto the seat for support and held you tight, his cheek against the top of your head.

“I thought you were dead, you absolute fucking asshole!”

A hand pressed against the back of your head, pulling you to rest against his collarbone. “M’right here. M’fine. Carol’s fine.” When he tried to push you back, you held on, digging your fingers into his back, taking fistfuls of his vest. “Want Hershel to look ya over, butcha gotta let go first.”

“No.” You stated bluntly.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply letting you cling to him until your sobs had quieted to whimpers and hiccups, his large hands rubbing your back and cradling your head. “Alright. Least scoot over so I can drive. An’ ya gotta let ‘im take a look atcha when we get to wherever the fuck we’re going.”

With a sniff, you conceded, nodding against his chest. When you moved back across the seat, you kept a hand fisted in the front of his shirt until he climbed in after you. He was talking with Rick but you didn’t hear a word of it. Your forehead was pressed against the round of his shoulder, thigh against his, hands gripping the hem of his vest below the arm he had outstretched to the wheel. Your body rocked with his as he closed the door. He went still for a moment, likely examining how he was going to drive with you clinging to him like a fungus but not a word was said. You had never killed the engine, so he just shifted the gear and drove while you held onto him like a lifeline.

“Ssh. Gotta be qui—fuckin’ christ.”

You had purposefully clenched your walls around him while continuing the steady rocking of your hips. “Ssh,” you pressed a finger to your lips, “gotta be quiet, Daryl.” The scowl he gave you was impressive for a man teetering right on the edge of orgasm. You traced a line through the sheen of sweat on his chest, only stopping when you reached where your belly loomed over him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, moving up to your thickened waist to both guide and urge you. “I’m so close.”

Daryl only grunted, running a hand over your prominent belly and up to your breast, squeezing gently. You were still so sensitive—and sore—but with one flick of his thumb over your wet nipple, you crested, your palm swiftly covering your mouth to muffle your shout. He quickly let go of the soft mound of your chest to grab a thigh, digging blunt nails into your flesh as he followed you up, up, up with a series of heightened breaths, desperately keeping himself quiet as well.

Still panting, Daryl caught you by your bicep and rolled with you to lay you onto your side, slipping out of you in the process. You must have looked as dazed as you felt because he was brushing your sweaty mess of hair out of your face and narrowing his eyes. “Ya okay?”

“Mhm.” With a content sigh, you caught his hand and kissed his palm, smiling when he gave you that look as if he had no idea what to do next. “I love you.” His mouth twitched into a tiny smile, a hum vibrating behind his lips. He turned his hand to hold yours, placing them on the bed between you. He didn’t say it back but he didn’t need to; you knew. You knew about his dissent with emotions but he had said he loved you and you believed him. And that was that. “Let’s get cleaned up and go face the people we probably kept awake.” You chuckled.

He scoffed, throwing the blankets back from the bedroll as he sat up. The room was cold. There were even goosebumps on his skin where the air touched it, and that man was always hot. The house was more of a shack, one large room with the kitchen and a family area, one bedroom, and a bathroom. It was the third temporary safehouse in a week and a half. 

Daryl kept the truck close to the door now, as close as he could possibly get it. With you at around 38 weeks, he was taking no chances. Seriously. No chances. You had to pee? He was with you. He had to pee? You were with him. He was practically attached to your hip, but you were finding you didn’t feel crowded at all. You just couldn’t since the night you thought you’d lost him. 

The archer stood, pulling up his pants and underwear together, staring at the window as he buckled his belt. God, he was beautiful. The moonlight was bathing him just right. He didn’t look real. Licking your lips, you thought about asking him to get right back under the blankets but that train of thought derailed with the tightening of your abdomen. You made a noise of discomfort, even though this contraction didn’t hurt. It still wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

“What?” Daryl sniffed, looking down at you.

“Stupid fake contractions.” You grimaced, holding out a hand for something with which to clean yourself up. He was already on it, digging through the bag for the bra pads for you anyway. He tossed you one of his shirts, huffing a laugh when you regarded him with bewilderment. “Are we really going to have Carol washing jizz off one of your shirts? Oh my god, or Beth?! No! Give me something else!”

“Ain’t much else to use, Sunshine.” He tossed the bra pads at you but continued rifling through the bag. A box landed next to your hip which you recognized as squares of gauze. If it weren't for the fact that you not only needed to clean up the mess between your legs but the bedroll and blankets as well, you would have just thrown on your underwear and left it.

Daryl was buttoning his shirt and not really paying attention when you wiped through the sticky mess at your core, ready to open another square but then your hand was brought to a sudden halt. Along with your heart. 

“Daryl.” You knew there was fear in your voice, you couldn’t have hidden it if you tried. When you looked to him for reassurance, you found your expression mirrored.

“Hey, doc, get the fuck in here!” He bellowed, staring at the thick glob of red, white, and yellow on the white material. Everyone was asleep or had at least bedded down, so it would likely take a moment for anyone to appear in the doorway. Still, he moved fast, pulling the tank top he had tossed to you over your head. It had to be stretched over your belly and a portion of your breasts could be seen from the side but at least you were mostly covered since it was untelling how many would respond to his exclamation. 

“Daryl, it’s blood. I’m bleeding. Is this normal? Is something wrong?” You rambled, the hand holding the gauze shaking so fiercely that he was forced to take hold of your wrist to steady it.

“I dunno. Hershel can—he’ll look. S’gonna be okay.” On his knees beside you, he pulled you against him with his free arm, holding you so tightly that you just knew it was so you didn’t shatter. “Hershel!”

“What’s wrong?” Carol was the first in, wrapping her cardigan tightly around her, but Hershel was just behind her, wiping at his eyes.

“What on earth, son?”

“She’s bleedin’, she ain’t s’posed to bleed is she?” Now, you could feel Daryl shaking, even with his voice as steady as it was.

The others were filing into the room but Carol was on top of things, ushering them all right back out while the old man rolled up his sleeves.

“Carol, could you bring a couple more candles, please?” He asked, his tone so light that even you wanted to kick him. It was likely Daryl wanted to throw him out the window. “Let’s see what we have here.” Hershel picked up the one candle you and Daryl had lit and knelt down next to the bedroll, his knees cracking and popping. When he held his palm flat, you curled your lip, wishing gloves were something any of you had thought of on the runs. Daryl guided your hand with his hold on your wrist, keeping the gauze from flipping or spilling onto the man’s palm. “Hmm. Can you tell me what happened before this?”

You and Daryl turned beet red. There was obviously cum on the gauze as well.

“‘Sides the obvious?” The archer murmured.

“Okay, so sex.” Hershel nodded. Daryl blanched. “Anything else?”

You were suddenly blank, the fear gripping your heart so tightly that it was cutting off the circulation to your brain. How could he seem so calm about this?

“She had one’a them fake contractions.” Daryl supplied. If you weren���t a trembling wreck, you would have kissed him. 

Carol trotted back into the room with a candle in each hand, kneeling down next to the veterinarian. “Is that—?”

“I think so.”

You were looking back and forth between the two, still unable to find your voice. Once again, Daryl spoke for you. “Gonna make us guess?!” He snapped.

“Easy, Daryl.” Carol admonished, reaching a hand toward him but not touching.

“Don’t fuckin’ easy me! What the fuck is—”

“Calm down.” Hershel demanded in a no nonsense tone. You felt Daryl’s hold around your shoulders tighten. “I believe this is what is called the bloody show. Sometimes it just comes out on its own, but it can be triggered by intercourse. Now I have no way of knowing if the mucus plug has already passed and sadly, our woodland toilet would make it difficult to know anyway. It could actually be present in this. Regardless, that hardly matters.”

“M’gonna need some English an’ real fuckin’ quick, doc.”

“She’s fine, Daryl.” Carol soothed. “You know we wouldn’t say that if she weren’t.” The archer looked back and forth between the two again while you looked up at him. It took a long moment of uncomfortable silence but you felt the tension pressed against you loosen ever so slight. “Let him finish.”

Daryl gave a curt nod.

“This usually means the cervix is thinning and dilating; that the baby is nearly ready to be born. Now the contraction,” he continued while twisting to place the gauze somewhere behind him, “could have been Braxton Hicks, yes. It could have also been the real thing. Was it painful?”

You shook your head.

“They aren’t always in the beginning. According to my reading, some women are lucky enough to have very mild contractions all throughout labor and delivery.” He smiled, trying so hard to settle the unease eating its way through your sternum. “I’d like to examine you. Would you allow that?”

You nodded, feeling Daryl turn his head to see your permission with his own eyes.

“Okay, lie back please. Carol, I’ll need some water and soap please.” The woman was up and out the door before you could blink. “This will be just like the last one. Some mild discomfort but it shouldn’t be anything beyond that. Have you had any contractions since the last one?”

“No.” You sounded so small, even to your own ears.

“Okay, that’s good. We won’t rule anything out yet. Your water hasn’t broken, but I must warn you that it is possible I may accidentally cause that during the exam. If that happens, there’s no reason to be alarmed.” 

You were nodding, you felt yourself doing it but it didn’t feel like you were really there at all. The fear had won and you were falling victim to the panic stirring up within you, its tendrils snaking around your lungs, making it impossible to breathe. 

Then Daryl released your wrist and slipped his hand into yours.

He was listening carefully to Hershel, watching Carol return, but he was still attentive to what you needed at that moment as well. You felt the pressure in your chest recede, your lungs easily filling while your heartrate slowed. You were still scared. You still trembled, but so did he.

The vet had moved onto the bedroll but before he could do anything, Daryl was reaching down with a quick I got it and moving the blanket. His free hand was warm on your thigh, not removing it until you bent your knees and placed your feet flat. You watched the old man for a moment, suddenly self conscious when he stared impassively before his eyes flitted over to Daryl.

“Oh, uh—sorry for the—yeah.” The archer cleared his throat, his head ducking.

“Carol.” Hershel sighed. “If there are any runs to be made soon, please make sure gloves are mentioned as a necessity.” The other woman giggled behind her hand but quickly wiped it away and nodded. “Okay, here we go.”

It felt exactly as it had the first time, deeply uncomfortable and borderline painful at certain points, though this time you were able to remain still and silent. You chose to watch your partner as he eyed Hershel like a hawk, eyes squinted and focused. You squeezed his hand. Instantly, his attention was on you. His thumb swept back and forth over your knuckles, a grounding movement on which you could center yourself.

“Well.” Hershel had pulled his hand away and was washing up with the soap and water Carol had brought in for him. “You’re about 3cm, my dear. Now it’s anyone’s guess when your water will break or if it will at all. If not, I will likely need to intervene to speed things up but that’s down the road. Take it easy but walk around if you can. Drink lots of water, any extra that we can ration off for you. I’m sure others would be willing, myself included. Let me know of any contractions, even if they aren’t painful. We will need to start timing them. I can get Glenn to loan you the watch I gave to him, Daryl, but please don’t smash it.”

“Wait. That’s it?” You struggled to sit up until Daryl assisted you.

“That’s it. It’s a waiting game now.” Carol picked up what she could and promised to return for the rest, smiling at you before she left the room, likely to fill in the others. “But from the looks of things, your little Thumper will be making his or her debut in the very—and I mean very—near future.”

Both you and Daryl stared at the doorway long after it was empty. When you squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. And in unison, you both took a deep breath and uttered two words.

“Holy shit.”

[ultravioletbrit]

“forever” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 622 words

This one’s for you @shoopsthereitis. just some absolutely, ridiculous silliness for your bday! happy birthday, sar! 🎉

James is relaxing on the bed while Regulus is looking for something in the back of their closet.

“Oh my god!” Regulus squeals, startling James.

“What happened?!” James quickly sits up, getting ready to catch a mouse or deal with a spider or whatever it is that made Regulus shriek.

“I haven’t seen this in forever!” Now Regulus’ voice is bubbling over with excitement and James is very confused.

“What happened?” James asks again.

Regulus stands up and turns to face James and James is speechless. Of all the things he thought Regulus might’ve found, this was nowhere even close to the list.

Regulus is standing in the middle of their bedroom, positively beaming, as he adjusts a tiny red cowboy hat on the top of his head. The strawberry red hat has a white rope trim around the brim that drops down and is meant to be tied under your chin to hold the hat in place.

Regulus looks adorable as he’s attempting to get the thin rope under his chin, but he’s not having any success. The hat is clearly a child’s dress up hat; the brim doesn’t even extent off the top of his head and the rope ends just above his jaw.

Regulus quickly gives up on the rope and lets it hang by his cheeks as he walks over to the bed to stand in front of James.

“What do you think?” Regulus asks in a sultry voice as he wiggles his eyebrows.

James pulls his lip between his teeth, trying so hard not to giggle, but Regulus just looks—

“You look adorable.” James can’t help but coo, reaching up to play with the end of the rope.

Regulus bats his hand away. “I’m not supposed to look adorable.” He pouts, effectively making himself look more adorable. James keeps that thought to himself.

“I’m sorry, love. How are you supposed to look?”

“I don’t know… sexy… or seductive… or… or… fuckable.” Regulus finishes with a smirk.

James can no longer hold in his giggles, earning him a smack in the middle of his chest. “James!” Regulus whines.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you look… it looks… where did you get that?” James asks instead of finishing his sentence.

“I used to play dress up with it all the time when I was a little kid.” Regulus tells him.

“And you want me to think you look fuckable?” James raises both eyebrows.

“Yes! I want you to think it’s sexy and I want you to be turned on and I want you to fuck me while I’m wearing my cowboy hat.” Regulus crosses his arms over his chest petulantly. James closes his eyes and sighs; he’s trying so, so hard to keep his laughter under control in the midst of this ridiculous situation.

“Reg. I am not fucking you in that cowboy hat.”

“Why not?” He pouts.

“First of all, I think I would feel a little… creepy.” James scrunches up his nose. “Plus, I don’t think it would even stay on your head.” 

“Yes, it would.” Regulus moves his hands to his hips and the hat falls to the floor.

James raises an eyebrow and Regulus just huffs. “Fine.”

James smiles sweetly and takes Regulus’ hand bringing him closer and pulling him onto his lap.

“I just wanted you to fuck me while I’m wearing a cowboy hat.” Regulus is still pouting.

“I’m sorry, love. We can get you a cowboy hat that fits. And one that you didn’t wear as a child.” He wraps his arms around Regulus’ waist and gives him a kiss but Regulus just sighs. “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure there’s a universe out there somewhere where I’m fucking you in a cowboy hat right now.”

“There better be.”

-

fic inspiration: sar's yeehaw, baby series where reg is definitely getting fucked in a cowboy hat

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Scream For Me.

Serial Killer!Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, knife play, Overstim, Possesive, dark behaviors, blood/blood play, violence, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of murder and death, non-con

Authors notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We made it through kinktober everyone! Now I'm going to take a break for a bit unless inspo strikes!

“Are you excited for Tony's yearly Halloween bash?” Wanda asks excitedly, sitting next to you in the common area at your college. 

You smile at your best friend, “Of course I'm excited Wands! I've got a great outfit this year. Maybe I'll finally win his costume contest.”

Wanda chuckles and leans against the table, “Are you going to tell me what your costume is or…?” 

“Oh no you'll have to wait and see sweetheart.” You tell her as you start getting your things ready to leave for your next class.

“Will Kate be there?” she asks, looking up at you. 

“Of course she will be.” You smiled at the thought of your girlfriend. You loved her with all of your heart. Kate was a few years younger than Wanda and yourself. A freshman while the two of you were Juniors. 

The moment you met Kate you knew she was your other half. The two of you spent all the time you could together. 

“I'll see you there Wands, okay? I gotta get to this class. If I'm late one more time he's docking me a letter grade.” Wanda shakes her head at you.

“Go on, I'll see you and Kate there.” She says with a sly smile.

At the Halloween party, the atmosphere is vibrant but eerie, with everyone in costumes ranging from creepy to ridiculous to sexy. You and Kate arrive hand-in-hand, your partner’s dark, intense stare never leaving your side, though she occasionally lets it drift over the crowd with a curious gleam.

While you catch up with Wanda, a loud scream rips through the party, sending a chill down your spine. People scramble, and the panic sets in as whispers spread: someone’s been murdered. From that moment, guests start disappearing, the once-packed house thinning out as one by one, people meet their doom. You feel Kate’s grip on your hand tighten as fear begins to gnaw at you.

Finally, when only a few remain, you glimpse a figure in a Ghostface mask lurking in the shadows. As the masked killer advances, you step back—until you realize that Kate is no longer at your side. The realization clicks in slowly, a thrill of horror and intrigue mingling as you begin to piece it together.

Your breath catches as the figure in the Ghostface mask steps forward, the dim lights casting an ominous shadow over the already blood-splattered floors. The killer moves with a confidence that’s disturbingly familiar—slow, calculated steps that feel chillingly precise, almost practiced.

“Kate?” you whisper under your breath, though your voice betrays the suspicion you’ve had for the past few minutes. She can’t hear you, but you feel the weight of her gaze behind the mask, and something within you tells you that this was always part of the plan.

The figure pauses, just feet away from you, and tilts their head as if to say, You figured it out. With trembling hands, you reach for the mask, barely daring to breathe as you lift it.

Beneath the mask is Kate’s face, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark and a satisfied grin spreading across her lips. “Took you long enough,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“What… What did you do?” you manage to ask, your voice wavering between terror and fascination. She steps closer, her hands finding their way around your waist, pulling you against her.

“Just made sure it was a party we’d never forget,” she replies nonchalantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You feel the wet warm blood on her fingers against your skin. Her eyes gleam as she leans in, whispering, “Now lets have some fun babe.”

Despite everything, your pulse quickens—not just from fear but from the dangerous allure of Kate's touch and the promise in her gaze.

Kate’s lips crash against yours in a heated, possessive kiss, her hands tangling in your hair as if you’re the only thing grounding her. When she finally pulls back, there's a wild glint in her eyes as she slips the Ghostface mask back on, her voice dropping to a dark, teasing tone.

“Now it’s time for me to have some real fun,” she purrs. Her fingers trace your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “Run,” she commands, her voice dripping with anticipation. “And if I catch you… I’ll have my way with you.”

The thrill shoots through you like lightning. You don’t waste another second, spinning on your heel and darting into the maze of halls in Tony Stark’s sprawling mansion. The house looms around you, full of twists and dead ends. Your heart pounds as you slip through shadowed corridors and dimly lit rooms, the pounding of your footsteps echoing through the halls.

You think you hear her behind you—those calm, measured steps almost mocking you, growing louder. You stumble up the stairs, gasping for air as you push through the nearest door, finding yourself in one of the empty guest rooms. You press your back against the wall, holding your breath, ears straining for the sound of her approach.

A slow, taunting voice filters in through the door. “I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Kate calls. Her words wrap around you, each syllable drenched with dark amusement. “Did you really think you could hide from me?”

Your heart skips a beat as you realize she’s right outside, just beyond the thin barrier of the door. The doorknob turns slowly, and you brace yourself as she steps inside, the mask tilted just enough that her eyes pierce through the dim light, locked solely on you.

The chase is over, and she knows it.

As soon as she steps inside, you dart for the door, hoping to slip past her and make it just a little farther. But Kate’s reflexes are sharp, her hand snapping out to grab your wrist with an iron grip. In one swift motion, she spins you around and presses you firmly against the wall, her body caging you in place.

You’re caught between the cold wall and the heat of her presence, her fingers digging into your wrists as she pins them above your head. Her breathing is steady, almost calm, while yours comes in ragged gasps. She tilts her head, her eyes visible through the mask, smoldering with an intensity that sends shivers through you.

“Thought you could get away from me?” she murmurs, her voice a soft taunt as she leans in, her lips barely brushing against the shell of your ear. “I told you, if I caught you…” She pauses, letting her words hang between you, heavy with promise. “You’re all mine now.”

A flush of adrenaline and thrill rushes through you as her lips graze along your jaw, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your neck. Her hands slowly drift down, finally releasing your wrists but keeping you firmly pressed against the wall with her body.

“You ran well,” she whispers against your skin. “But it's over.”

Kate’s hands trail down your body, lingering just enough to leave you breathless and wanting more. Her touch is possessive, claiming you in a way that should send shivers of fear through you—but instead, every nerve in your body lights up in pure anticipation. You want to resist, to hate her for this dark side that she’s unleashed, but as her lips capture yours again, any resolve you have dissolves completely.

You lean into her, your body betraying any illusion of resistance, craving the warmth of her touch and the intensity she brings. Her fingers trace your curves, igniting a fire that surges through you, leaving you clinging to her as though she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

She notices the change in you, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “You love this, don’t you?” she whispers, her voice a low murmur that sends a thrill straight through you. “You love me.”

And as much as you want to deny it, you can’t. Kate has you wrapped around her finger, heart racing and head spinning. Every twisted, thrilling second of this only makes you fall harder, and you know there’s no escaping—not from her, and not from the way you feel.

Kate’s fingers disappear momentarily, and when she returns, you catch a glimpse of silver gleaming in her hand. Your breath hitches as you realize she’s holding a knife—small and sharp, its blade glinting under the dim lights.

She brings the blade close to your skin, her eyes never leaving yours as she lets it hover near your collarbone. “Don’t move,” she whispers, her voice both a warning and a promise. Slowly, she presses the flat side of the knife against your skin, letting the cold metal glide along your collarbone and down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Your heartbeat pounds as her hand moves with expert precision, the blade tracing patterns over your skin, never breaking it but skimming just enough to keep you on edge. She’s in complete control, and there’s a dark satisfaction in her gaze as she watches every shiver that her touch elicits from you.

The knife drifts lower, following the line of your arm, before moving back up to rest just over your racing pulse. “Still with me?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over your cheek as she leans in close.

You manage a nod, voice caught in your throat, and her grin widens, a hint of pride mingling with something far darker. The blade continues its slow, tortuous path, tracing the line of your neck and collarbone, reminding you with every pass that she has you completely, utterly at her mercy.

The sharp prick of the knife against your skin sends a hiss escaping your lips, a mix of pain and thrill that rushes through you as tiny bubbles of red rise to the surface. Kate’s gaze locks onto the crimson beads, her breath hitching as if she’s savoring every second of your reaction. There’s a hunger in her eyes that goes beyond words, a craving that runs deep, and you can tell she wants more.

Her fingers linger on the knife just a moment longer before her eyes flick back to yours, dark with desire. Slowly, she guides you from the wall toward the bed, her movements calm but unmistakably possessive. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as she settles you onto the edge, her hands steady as she tilts your chin up to keep your gaze fixed on her.

Kate’s fingers glide over the small mark she’s left on your skin, smearing the faint traces of red as if claiming you in a way that’s both gentle and deeply, darkly intimate. She leans in, her lips barely brushing against your ear as she whispers, “You’re mine… every part of you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and as she pulls back, you feel her hand press you down onto the bed, her fingers trailing possessively along your body. There’s a fire in her eyes, one that promises you’re in for a night that will leave its mark on both your skin and your memory. And as much as you should resist, you can’t help but melt beneath her touch, surrendering entirely to her intoxicating presence.

Kate’s hips press firmly against yours, and the friction of the silicone she’s packing against you makes your eyes flutter, a whimper escaping as she grinds deeper, savoring every reaction. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she positions herself, the mask barely concealing her wicked grin.

Without hesitation, she sinks into you, and you gasp, feeling her stretch you with ease. She fills you perfectly, her movements slow and purposeful, drawing out every delicious inch. A low groan slips from her lips, muffled beneath the mask as she starts to move, each thrust more intense than the last.

“Fuck, babe,” she pants, her voice heavy with satisfaction as she watches you writhe beneath her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet.” Her tone is thick with pride, taunting and possessive, each word making your pulse race faster.

With every thrust, she presses deeper, her rhythm unrelenting as she wraps her hand around your thigh, pulling you closer, her breath quickening as she watches the way you fall apart beneath her. Each moan, each gasp, only seems to spur her on, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s nowhere near finished with you.

Your release crashes over you, and for a fleeting moment, you think she might give you a second to recover. But Kate’s thrusts don’t relent, and her grip on your thigh only tightens. A dark, determined look settles in her eyes as she grins beneath the mask, her voice a low, possessive growl.

“I’m not done with you, babe. We’re going to keep going,” she promises, her words drenched in intent. She leans in closer, pressing you deeper into the bed, her thrusts driving you into a haze of overstimulation that leaves your head spinning, every nerve alive with a mix of pleasure and intensity.

The blade makes sporadic appearances, gliding across your skin with expert care, just enough to keep your senses heightened. Each pass sends sparks through you, leaving faint red lines that she traces with her fingers, her gaze fixed on your every reaction, almost mesmerized by the effect she has on you.

Your body trembles beneath her, every sensation amplified as the line between pain and pleasure blurs into a dizzying euphoria. She picks up her pace, grinding deeper, watching as you unravel all over again beneath her. The overstimulation is relentless, and as the world spins around you, you can only cling to her, completely at her mercy.

The sun’s first rays spill across the horizon, casting a soft, almost surreal glow over the world as you and Kate finally stumble out of the mansion. You make it to her car, exhausted and exhilarated, bodies aching from the night’s intensity. Kate’s Ghostface costume lies discarded in the backseat, and she’s back to her usual self, though her eyes still hold that dangerous, satisfied gleam as she starts the engine, focused on the road.

You take a deep breath and check your phone, seeing a string of worried messages from Wanda. Your heart clenches as you read them:

Did you make it out?

Please, Y/N, answer me…

If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m calling the cops.

A pang of guilt flickers as you glance over at Kate, who doesn’t seem the least bit concerned as she drives, one hand resting casually on the wheel, fingers tapping to some rhythm only she can hear. You quickly type out a message to reassure Wanda.

I’m fine. I got home with Kate, and we took our minds off things.

A few moments later, your phone buzzes with her reply: Thank god… Just text me later, okay? I was scared. You feel a strange blend of guilt and thrill, thinking back on everything that happened, knowing that the night’s secrets are locked safely between you and Kate.

You slip your phone into your lap, stealing a glance at her, your heart racing all over again as she smirks, catching your gaze. “What?” she teases, a satisfied glint in her eye.

“Nothing,” you reply softly, the thrill from last night lingering as you reach over, your fingers brushing hers. Whatever’s next, you know that with Kate, you’re in for one hell of a ride.

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝙎𝙀𝙓 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼 𝙃𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙄𝙀𝙎, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝙋 𝙄𝙉 𝙑, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙎𝙌𝙐𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙀, 𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙔/𝙉.

𝘿. 𝙒𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙭 𝙔/𝙉

• ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ •

It’s been a while since Y/N has thought about even going out to a bar, or has had a hook up. She hasn’t done either of those in a while. Work had her going crazy, she was always so busy to even think about a relationship with a man. “Come on! You’ll have fun!” Her best friend said as she pulled out a sexy black dress that was really short, and sparkled. “Yeah, I know! But I have a lot of work to do and I don’t have the time.” Y/N told Luna as she rolled her blue eyes at her. “You won’t die if you leave your work there for a bit.” Luna told her as she went back into Y/N closet to pick out some heels for her. “Actually I will.” She said as Luna walked back out with some red heels.

“No you won’t, now get your sexy ass up! And get ready.” Luna said shutting her laptop off and she sighs and reluctantly gets up and walked into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the night. She really didn’t want to go, she really did have a lot of work to do, but a night out with her friends won’t hurt her job. She didn’t have to turn in her report until Monday morning. It was Friday, she is single, and most of all. She needed some dick. She’s been single for nearly a year and she hasn’t been with anyone. She was way too busy to even think about men or woman. Her last boyfriend cheated on her with a woman who called herself, her best friend.

Finally after an hour, Y/N walked out of her room, dressed in the shiny black dress, black heels, her make up done to perfection, red lips, hair in loose curls. “How do I look?” She asked as she walked over to her best friend. “Oh, man. Are you sure we can’t fuck?” She asked her as she rolled her eyes at Luna.

“No! Now come on, before I change my mind.” She told Luna as they both walked out.

The two of them got out of the taxi and walked over to the front of the bar. Y/N caught sight of a black Chevy impala. It was beautiful. She followed after Luna both girls entering inside the bar. Their other friends are supposed to meet them at the bar and they were already there drinking. Y/N entered and her eyes wondered around the bar. It looked cool and not creepy. She liked the vibes it was giving her and not creepy vibes like the other times, Luna has taken her to other bars, with a bunch of creepy older men.

“Y/N, Luna! Over here.” Gisela called out waving them over. Both of them smiled as they walked over to their group of friends, putting shots in their hands already. The good thing about Y/N is that it took a lot of drinking to get her drunk. When it came to her and her family. Not a lot of people could keep up with her.

It was an hour later when the girls were drunk and Y/N rolled her eyes smiling as they all started to dance and act all wild and everything. “Come on!” One of her friends pulled Y/N to the dance floor with them. While the girls were drunk, she was just buzzed a little bit. The music was playing as she moved her hips from side to side. Her eyes fell upon a man with green eyes just devouring her body like a starved man. He took a drink from his glass as he didn’t break eye contact with her, she could see he had a little smirk as he drank from whatever he was drinking. Y/N was buzzed but, she wouldn’t deny the handsome a one night of hot sweaty sex. After all, she’s been single for a year and she desperately needed to distract herself for the shitty year she had.

She ran her hands over the side of her body as he kept his eyes on her. She smirked and turned around and started to dance with her friends and for a while she could feel his eyes burning holes into her back. “I’m thirsty! I’ll be back!” Y/N said as she left her best friend’s and went up to the bar. “Hey, barkeeper! Can I get water?” She asked as she fanned herself from the dancing. The man behind the counter nods as she feels someone sitting beside her. “Hey.” He then greeted her. She smiled at him as the barkeeper gives her the water. “Hey there!” She said as she drank her water. They both kept their eyes on each other. The tension between them growing by minute.

Dean as he presented himself and Y/N burst through her apartment door kissing each other roughly in hunger, ripping each other’s clothes off. Dean’s jacket falling on the ground as she kicks off her heels. Dean reached to the hem of her dress lifting it over her head throwing it to the side as she pulled his shirt over his head as well. They went back to kissing, his big hand getting ahold of her chest as she backed him to her room. She pushed him inside as he admired the beautiful woman in front of him making him instantly hard. She was only wearing a black thong underneath her dress. He could see how hard her nipples looked. He pulled down his pants along with his boxer shorts making his cock sprint up.

Y/N looked at his dick and it was big. She has never had dick that big before. She bites her lips as she walked over to Dean and pushed him on the bed as she takes off her panties throwing them to the side. Both of them naked now. She got on top of him and she place her lips on his lips kissing him, Dean grabs her from her hips and flips her on her back making her gasp. With him in between her legs, he rolled them making his cock slid up and down her folds.

Dean kissed down her body making her back arch off the bed, his hands gripping her hips as she rolled them against his trying to get some kind of friction. Her pussy clenched wanting him inside of her. Now. Dean kissed her hipbone making her softly moan as he nips on her skin, getting to the top of her pussy as she spreads her legs more open for him. “Mmm.” He hummed as he licks a stride up to her clit making her gasp. She hasn’t had that kind of pleasure in a long time. Especially when she doesn’t have any time.

Dean kissed her inner thighs, his hands gripping the back of her legs and pressing them more into her chest. “Oh, ah.” She moaned, her legs trembling. He then placed his mouth on her clit and started to devour her. “Oh, fuck!!” She squealed as he just took her in. He also plunged one finger inside of her and went in and out making her fall apart as his fingers hit her cervix over and over again. Her legs shaking as she could feel she was edging closer to her first orgasm. She was breathing heavily, moaning loudly.

It’s been a year since she’s had an orgasm so it was crashing into her rather quickly than she thought. Dean added another finger as his head started going side to side making her gasped. The hunter groaned as he felt her pussy clench on his fingers, her pussy juices getting on his fingers. “Dean, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!!” She squealed as falling apart as he curled his fingers making her explode, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she trembled hard.

Dean kept on fingering her as he lifted his head to look at her. He could tell she stopped breathing her legs and her body didn’t stop shaking. She finally lets out her breath. “aAAH!!” She tried closing her legs but Dean pushed her leg back as he kept on going inside of her. “Dean, it’s t-to much!” She squealed.

3 orgasms later Dean took out his fingers as Y/N squirted. “FUUUCK!!!” She moaned and moaned and moaned as Dean was pumping his very hard cock as he watched her fall apart. The hunter groaned as he touched his sensitive head. She opened her eyes as she looked at Dean. Her breathing was slowing down as her body twitched from the after math of her orgasm, and the fact that she didn’t know she could squirt like that. She loved every second of that. Dean looked at her as she ran her fingers through her fluttering pussy making her twitch at how sensitive she was. “Fuck, that was amazing.” She told the man.

“Yeah?” Dean asked her as she nodded her head. Her eyes heavy lidded with a satisfied smile on her face. “I’ve never have a guy make me squirt like that.” She told him as the Winchester hunter smirked at her. She sat up and crawled over to him, she ran her hands up his body as she looked up at the man. Her mouth hovering over his throbbing cock. Dean’s breath hitched as she kissed his tip and then licked his slit where the pre-cum was oozing out of. He was so turned on, by the way she had fallen apart by his touch. He didn’t know her, but she was extremely sexy. Her moans were the most beautiful he’s ever heard in his life. The way she squirted by his fingers.

He loved every single moment of that. He wanted to make her squirt again and again and again. But he only had one night with her, since they were only in town because of the case they were working on and successfully finished without anyone being killed.

She took in his tip making the hunter gasp as she then swirled her tongue around his head.

She took out her mouth as she pushed him onto the bed, making him fall into the pillows as she got in between her legs. “Fuck.” Dean moaned throwing his head back as she licked from the base of his dick all the way up to the head of his dick making it twitch. With one hand she slowly pumped his cock and with the other, she got a hold of his balls gently playing with them making the man groaned at how amazing that felt. Her mouth hovered over his cock as she spits on it and she placed her lips on his cock and she went all the way down, pumping what she could not fit. “Argh!” Dean moaned as she started to bob her head up and down up and down up and down.

Dean looked down at her and she looked up at him and his dick twitched at the sight of her.

“Such a good girl sucking my cock.” Dean grunted as she went faster. Y/N went deeper making her gag and Dean lets out a loud moan at how deep she went her hands gripping his thighs as she tried to go into him deeper. Her eyes watered as Dean grits his teeth. Dean grabbed her from her hair pulling her off as her saliva was still connected from his cock to her mouth it was messy the way she looked like a total mess.

“What happened?” She asked him as she wiped her mouth. “I was about to cum.” He told her as she smirked at him. “I would have swallowed you.” She licks her lips and he groaned his cock twitching at that. “I seriously wouldn’t have mind, but I want to fuck you.” He told her as he pulled her up to him and she placed her lips on his as he flipped her on her back, getting in between her legs, his cock hitting her entrance making her moan against his lips as he rolls them into her hips. Dean and Y/N looked into each other’s eyes as he slowly slides inside her right pussy.

She gasped as Dean groaned feeling her tightness. “Fuck, so tight.” He gritted his teeth. His big cock filling her up stretching her walls. Dean’s eyes closed staying still as he felt his dick start twitching. With all the cases he’s had back to back. He’s had no time to be with anymore or do it himself. So it was becoming difficult not to cum right away. She tapped his shoulder as he nods his head. “Just give me a sec.” He told her as he tried to relax a bit. “What’s wrong?” She asked him as he blows out air and opens his eyes. “Nothing, it’s just it’s been a while, with work, and all that.” He told her as she smiled up at the man.

“Don’t worry we’re literally in the same page.” She told him as he smiled at her grateful he understood. “You know it’s okay, if you do cum? I mean I already came twice and squirted, I’m satisfied.” She told him as he just shook his head. “Nah. I have to at least make you cum again.” He told her as she nods her head. “Okay.” Dean said as he sat up putting her legs over his shoulder, he hugs her legs and started to move inside her pussy making her let out a moan as he started to pick up his pace. “Dean, oh god!” She moaned loudly. Her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she saw the stars with how his cock was hitting her cushioned G-spot. Her legs trembled on him. Dean hissed as he felt his cock start to twitch.

He was afraid that he wasn’t going to last any longer. He lets go of her legs and Y/N’s fingers reached down to her clit and started rubbing it because she could feel how close the man was to releasing his cum into her. “Fuck, fuck, argh!” He grunted out as she could feel her orgasm about to hit her again as she ferociously rubs her throbbing clit. “Oh, god! Are you ready?” She asked him as her legs started to shake uncontrollably. “Yes!” Dean lets out as finally she screamed out as her walls start to flutter hard.

Dean slammed so hard into her making her gasp so loud staying still as he moaned loudly. His cum filling her up. Ropes and ropes of his seed, the way he was slowly rolling his hips still balls deep inside of her as he grunted calling out her name as his nails dig into her hips, which she was sure was going to bruise.

The man slumped his head thrown back as he breaths heavily his body still twitching to the waves of his climax. After catching his breath. He looked down at her as she smiled, as well as Dean. He pulls out his soft cock making her shudder lowly at that.

He threw himself beside her pulling her up to his chest as they both chilled and talked, getting to know each other, eventually they fell asleep.

The next morning, after a blowjob in the shower. Dean ate breakfast and he was on his way out.

Dean turned to her as she walked him out. She was only wearing her thong, her bare chest out with her hard nipples. “I had a good time.” Dean told her as she smirked at him. “I did as well.” She told him as he smiled. “Can I see you again?” Dean asked her as she smiled and she blushed. She guessed her liked her as well. So, she nodded her head as he took out his phone. He hands it to her as she puts her number in.

“You better use it, because I need you to fuck me like that again.” She told him as he nods his head.

“I’ll see you.” He told her waving as he walked over to his beautiful black Chevy impala.

He got inside turning it on as she waved at him and on his way he went. Leaving her until next time.

• ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ • ★ • ☆ •

I kind of want to write in the end that she ended up pregnant with Dean’s baby. But I decided not to. 😂

𝘿. 𝙒𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙈𝘼𝙄𝙉 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

[srslyscary]

things they’ve said

things bf!skz has said to you

Including: bang chan, changbin, hyunjin, lee know, seungmin, han, felix, jeongin

Bang Chan

; “you’re too cute for this world, Y’know?”

; “don’t doubt yourself babe. you’re amazing in my eyes.”

; “not every day do you get to wake up to a gorgeous gal.”

; “I know it’s late, but check out this track I made— yeah it’s about you, what about it babe?”

; “stain my face with your pretty lips baby, I want everyone to know I belong to you— yeah with that new lipstick you bought, it’s a cute color. perfect for complimenting my face.”

; “i have seven kids and now they’re also YOUR seven kids.. deal with it, hah.”

; “you’re shorter than me, so your love capacity isn’t as strong as mine. it’s physically impossible for you to love me more babe.”

; “I can’t take my eyes off you. you’re just too pretty— I’m not trying to be creepy!— no— Y’know what I just won’t look at you then.. hehe.”

; “you deserve the universe.”

; “it’s kind of hard to unlove you sweetheart.”

; “it’s only been 2 minutes how do you already miss me.”

; “baby all I wanna do is see you. and do you.— just kidding… or am I?”

; “my goal is to keep you happy all the time.”

; “I love you because you’re the best. intellectual wise I REALLY would hate for someone to touch you lovingly like I do.”

; “excuse the fact that we’re locked in for life and you can’t go anywhere without me- HAHA.”

; “I got addicted to you very easily.”

; “I think I’m just in love with everything you do.”

; “I love you. I don’t think I said that enough today.”

Changbin

; “y’know what we should do? go have a picnic and watch the sunset. wouldn’t that be nice?”

; “you’re always pretty jagiya. you’re especially pretty without makeup.”

; “i’m tired. let’s cuddle, kay? I wanna feel you wrapped up in my arms, I’ll know you’re safe with me then.”

; “I literally just can’t have enough of you.”

; “I’ve been looking at pictures of you for the last 30 minutes—“

; “I like you mostest— no I love you. I’m IN love with you.”

; “wanna ft and eat together?”

; “You’re perfect to me. You always will be— it’s not cheesy it’s the truth!— accept my compliments right now!”

; “stop being stingy and give me more kisses! I’ll die if you don’t smother me— it’s true my doctor says so!”

; “your presence heals me.”

; “You’re like my healing wave and my bright sun.”

; “I can’t even describe in words how sexy you are right now- you’re just- WOW.”

; “FOOD DATEEEE! YAYYYY!”

; “I want you in every way that there is to want a person.”

; “You’re sweet, and hot.. good mix in my opinion.”

; “you should stay up.. I wanna keep flirting with you.”

Hyunjin

; “I wanted to talk to you. I miss your voice and your laugh, and your pretty face.”

; “my love, you could be more discreet if you’re trying to scare me— USING MINHO AS A SCARE TACTIC ISN’T FAIR EITHER!”

; “I’ll be as sassy as I want. Now give me a kiss I’m craving them— yes I’m on my period now hand them over or else.”

; “jokes on you, you’re my number one priority right now. the boys can wait a little while longer.”

; “I wanna stay up and talk to you.— What do you mean no?— that’s too bad, you’re not my mom.”

; “you mean more than the world to me.”

; “I don’t care who he was. he was looking at you the way I look at you. and I should be the ONLY person to look at you like that— cmon love.”

; “I’m physically craving your touch right now— I just want to sock you in the face and then kiss it right where it hurts— I’m joking I love you!”

; “I always wanna be by your side angel.”

; “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

; “I’m painting you love, what else would I be doing?”

Lee Know

; “you literally captivate me. your eyes especially. I could spend hours looking at your pretty face and never get bored.”

; “one day I’m gonna train my cats to come beat you up.”

; “I’m gonna punch you in the mouth. With my mouth. Softly.— yea I’m going to kiss you.”

; “stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you. it’s not funny— don’t laugh!”

; “I want your lips, I want your everything. or rather- I want you here so I can hold you.”

; “when I talk to you.. it’s like talking to my best friend. except I love you and I get to kiss you all over and all that cool stuff.”

; “your stubborn ass is never gonna listen— also I love your ass. literally.”

; “I’m really just.. fucking soft when it comes to you.”

; “yeah babe. you’re really pretty. the prettiest.”

; “You’re literally dreaming i didn’t say that— how’s that gaslighting?!”

; “you make me think of a love song every time I look at you.”

; “baby, just kiss me.”

; “Sure, we can get matching outfits.”

Seungmin

; “you look so innocent but I know you’re not— that makes me weak.”

; “I can tell you so many times how pretty you are, because you’re my pretty puppy and no one else’s.”

; “kinda wanna take you out for dinner— what I’m just saying?”

; “relax pretty puppy, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna see you drunk off my kisses.”

; “I just like whacked Han in the back of the head and he started crying- funniest thing ever.”

; “we look cute together, don’t you agree?”

; “let’s live together, I hate everyone else except you.”

; “you haven’t talked to me since 12:03pm. I’m lonely. talk to me babe.”

; “it’s not like I hate going out. I just hate everyone else gets to see how pretty you are.”

; “didn’t you say you liked these?— yeah I got ‘em for you.”

; “babe, you’re constantly reading that. what is it?”

; “wanna come watch me practice?”

; “that dress is cute babe, you should get it.”

; “You’re so stupidly cute, it’s getting annoying.”

; “babe, I love you— but stop trying to get me to buy you that dog.”

Han

; “BABE GUESS WHAT— I love you!”

; “hi beautiful, I hope you had a good day!”

; “You’re so cute babeeee, you literally make my heart melt.”

; “wake up I miss you.”

; “baby, have I ever told you how pretty you are?— mhm! the prettiest.”

; “You’re all I’ll ever need.”

; “daily reminder that I’m so in love with you-!”

; “I woke up and the first thing I wanted was you.”

; “this pretty face is all mine— mine to kiss and stare at and compliment.”

; “my favorite thing to look at is you of course!!”

; “TODAY REMINDS ME OF YOU— BECAUSE ITS HOT.”

; “I got butterflies when you called me pretty.”

; “I stay up just to talk to you babe.”

; “girl the only side chicks I got are your other personalities.”

; “You’re always on my mind, duh.”

; “honestly my mom would be so proud of me if I brought you home.”

; “you have me on some foreign level of happy.”

; “why is it that birds chirp to communicate? let’s chirp to communicate baby! — IT’S NOT WEIRD IT’S NATURE.”

; “how’s your day going my beautiful future wife?”

; “face time meeee, I’m with the boyssss, they wanna say hi to my girlll!”

; “I want you. Only you.”

; “just kiss me and don’t stop.”

Felix

; “good morning angel. sleep well?”

; “I want all of you forever. you and your perfect face, your perfect body, your perfect personality.”

; “me and chan bought ice cream! wanna share with me?”

; “BABE THERE’S A SPIDER— oh right.. yeah I’ll kill it-“

; “so you’re saying you saw a cat and your first thought was to text me about it?— god I love you.”

; “you just have me so whipped. I’d do anything for you.”

; “sunshine, can I tell the boys about you?”

; “You’re my entire universe, and whatever is beyond that.”

; “such a pretty face, can’t believe I get to kiss you and call you mine.”

; “of course I made you some brownies! why wouldn’t I?”

; “when I kiss you it’s hard for me to stop.”

; “I love you with my heart baby.”

; “don’t get jealous baby you own my heart, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna marry you already. I want a house, a dog, a weird grocery list, everything baby.”

; “why are you staring at me, huh beautiful?”

; “You’re really cute when you’re nervous.”

; “I’ll be over in five with pizza. Sound good?”

Jeongin

; “I’m so proud of everything you do lovely!”

; “proceed with caution you might burn down the kitchen.”

; “You’re literally my dream girl.”

; “I was just thinking about you— and our future.”

; “the thought of us kissing won’t leave my head-“

; “I miss you, call me?”

; “You’re cute.. we should be cute together!”

; “stay called me a peach.. do you think I’m a peach lovely?”

; “I don’t care what you wear, you’re beautiful either way.”

; “there she is— the girl of my dreams.”

; “I wanna be your every thought, every second of the day.”

; “I text you when I miss you.. which is all the time.”

; “can I tell you something? don’t freak out.— I love you.”

; “Sorry im busy! I’m discussing future wedding plans with your mom!”

; “you hungry lovely?— scratch that I know you’re always hungry, let’s go to that cafe down the street.”

; “send me videos of you— why would I want nudes? — no send me videos of you being silly and singing!”

; “I’m glad I met you too, you’re the best thing to happen to me.”