#(namely: the hunger to feel okay for even a second)

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Memories of Touch — Part 2

Just a comfy lil In Stars in Time afterword! An epilogue to the epilogue! Some cozy postgame fluff for those of us who are still choking on our own emotions! Spoilers abound for the entire game, so... you know. You've been warned.

Isabeau has shared a bed with Siffrin a million times before. It’s normal. It’s totally super normal. That must be why he feels so crabbing normal.

[You can read part one here]

The night after the world doesn’t end, the whole party camps out in the Clocktower. It’s the sleepover they were supposed to have yesterday, except that Sif was too busy having a really unkind manic episode. (Not that Isabeau can blame them. It sounds like the past two days have been a really stressful year.)

There are only three beds in the loft, but that’s okay. Siffrin’s never minded sharing.

…Though things are a little different now.

###

“Ehehe,” Siffrin giggles to themself, when they see the bed.

Isabeau can’t help grinning, too. “What, d’you think of a new joke? Lay it on me!!”

“Oh. Um. Not exactly. It’s just… you tried to confess here, too.”

Oof. “Just ‘tried,’ huh?”

Sif nods.

Rrrright. Of course he did. It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise. “Guess I didn’t pull it off, then, huh?”

“It’s okay,” Sif tells him. “It was. Um. Cute. I think it kept me going, the first few loops. When the King still killed us every time.”

(Cute.) “Siiiiif! I don’t wanna be cute!! I wanna be cool and tough!!!”

“You’re cool and tough,” Sif agrees easily. “You can be cool and tough and cute.”

“It’s too many adjectives!!!!”

Sif shakes their head. “Never enough.”

###

Isabeau has shared a bed with Siffrin a million times before. It’s normal. It’s totally super normal. That must be why he feels so crabbing normal.

Even with his eyes closed, he can feel the space between them like a hole in his chest. He keeps catching himself counting their breaths, each one another moment’s reassurance that Sif is still here, alive, with him. Every little rustle of motion pumps the bellows on the fire in his belly. Kindling catching and sparking and curling.

…Aw, crab, he can’t help it. He has to see them.

When he opens his eyes, his breath catches. Sif is awake. Their huge bright eye is open wide, locked onto Isabeau’s face with the single-minded focus of a cat watching a very transfixing speck of dust. Isa opens his mouth to say something normal but nothing comes out. Nothing about this is normal.

“Isa?” Siffrin whispers.

(Be crabbing normal.) “What’s up, Sif?”

“You still won’t touch me.”

Isabeau freezes.

“So. I guess I wondered… Why?”

H-Haha! Ha ha ha!! What an excellent question!!! Why indeed!!!!!!!

Isabeau is— It’s just that he’s!!! It’s not an easy habit to break, okay???

Isabeau has always been a touchy person. It’s the best way he knows how to love someone. Touch is a universal language, one of the few that translates between the geekiest of geeks and the goofiest of goobers. And it feels nice!! It makes everyone feel nice!! Why wouldn’t he hug the people he loves when it feels so crabbing nice!!!

That’s why, when Siffrin joined the party, Isabeau had to work so hard to keep his hands off them. Especially because they were so silly, and so cute. Like a fluffy little kitty in a big floppy hat.

But whenever anyone stepped too close, Sif would flinch like a dog waiting for a kick.

Isabeau isn’t stupid. He can read a room. And he’d rather die than make anyone uncomfortable. So he learned to keep his distance. To bite his tongue and keep his hands to himself and, and—!!!

—and that’s what hurt them the most, in the end. Isabeau never tried to touch them, even though he touched everyone else; so of course Sif noticed, and they just figured he hated them. This whole time Isa was watching them, sitting on his hands and choking on all the things that he was too afraid to say to them, and Sif thought he was keeping his distance because he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” Isabeau whispers. “I guess it’s a sort of habit. I—um. I had to... try really hard, to not touch you.” This part is embarrassing, but he has to say it, because otherwise Sif won’t understand. “B-Because I wanted to so much. So it's… I guess it’s hard to stop being careful.”

“Is that why you pushed me away?”

“Huh?”

“In the loop where I kissed you.”

OH, WELL IF THAT’S ALL.

Fireworks. Cataclysm. Continents splitting and colliding. Sif might as well have wrapped both hands around Isabeau's lungs and squeezed.

Isabeau’s eyes burn. His palms itch. Even just hearing it is almost too much. To know that Sif wanted to be closer, too… That they wanted it badly enough to reach out and pull him down by the collar and— Oh, crab, he really can’t think about that. He can’t bear to think about it. He can’t think about anything else. “Um??”

“You pushed me away, after,” Sif explains. “Right after. Like you were. Um. Disgusted.”

“Huh???” But—no. He wouldn’t. Why would he…

Sif looks a little embarrassed. “I… didn’t really warn you. Or ask if it was okay, or anything. I was just… I guess I got impatient.”

Isabeau’s chest aches. The thought of Siffrin yearning for him, burning for him, is a little more than he can think about right now. “Ehehe, umm… Hehe… Y-Yeah. I guess that’s probably why.” He feels a pang of sympathy for his past self. Poor guy must've totally blown a fuse.

“But you want to.”

“To… touch you?”

Sif nods.

“Ehehe,” Isabeau giggles helplessly. “Um. Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yes. I… think about it. A normal amount. Which is a lot. I tried not to, but I… wasn’t very good at it. But I didn’t want to scare you!!”

Sif’s stare sharpens into a glare. “I’m not scared.”

Well, that makes one of us. “Hehe. Yeah. I’ve been getting that impression.”

Sif pouts. It’s cute. Obviously. Everything Siffrin does is cute.

Isabeau beams at them. “Aw, Siiii~iiff. What do you want me to do? Anything. Just say the word.”

“You say that,” Sif mutters. “You always say stuff.”

Isabeau gathers his courage. He can do this. It’s not like Sif is asking for a hug or anything. He’s just got to start small. “Um. Here, um… G-Give me your hand.”

Sif blinks at him. Then they lift one arm, leaving their hand half-curled on the pillow between them.

Move, Isabeau. For crab’s sake, it’s holding hands. You’ve been holding hands for as long as you’ve had hands. This is baby-tier intimacy. So just do it. Do it. MOVE!!!

The tips of his fingers brush Sif’s.

Isabeau can feel it like a wound. A lightning-strike straight to the brainstem. Siffrin’s hands are so small, like raccoon paws. They almost never take off their gloves, so there’s something painfully exposing about seeing them like this. The pale, untouched skin of their palm.

Sif takes an unsteady breath. “Oh,” they whisper. “I see.”

Before Isabeau can remember how to talk, Sif is already moving. The pads of their fingers skate down his, tracing a line down his palm with the most tentative, featherlight touch, like he might break if they don’t treat him gently. Isabeau can feel it like a brand. Sif is touching him. On purpose. They’re touching him and they’re doing it on purpose, because they want to, because apparently they always wanted to. Oh, crab, it feels like his heart is going to burst.

“Warm,” Sif mumbles. “Are you always so warm?”

“H-Haha. Um. No.” That would be his circulatory system totally blowing a gasket.

“Hm.” Two fingers slide down his wrist, climbing a few inches up his shirtsleeve before slipping back down to his palm. Isa’s hand closes on reflex. Habit almost makes him flinch, but he can’t trust Sif not to come to the worst possible conclusion. He holds his breath and forces himself still, waiting for Sif to pull away.

…Sif doesn’t pull away.

Isabeau lets out a shuddering breath.

Sif squeezes their eye shut for a second, their face scrunching in the way it does when their feelings get a little too big to hold. Then they look up at him, frowning. “You’re very warm. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“H-Haha!! Um!! Not… physically?”

Siffrin gives him a blank stare.

“Um,” Isabeau rushes to explain. “Y-You know, like. ‘I’ve got a fever, and the only cure is—’”

“I’m going to try to kiss you,” Sif says flatly.

Isabeau’s heart stops.

“So.” Sif clears their throat. “That’s your warning. So you can stop me if you want. But—preferably with your words. Um. Now, please.”

Isabeau doesn’t even breathe.

“Okay,” Sif whispers. “Okay. Then, um…” He frowns a little, gathering his resolve, before shifting just a hairsbreadth closer.

Probably Isa should close his eyes—contrary to just, like, everything about him, he does in fact know how this works—but he can’t make himself look away, not when Sif is burning so bright with resolve. Their hand is still trapped in his so he can feel them trembling, shaking all over like a ship in high seas, but they’re being so brave and it makes the fire in his chest flare even hotter. Sif takes a deep breath and that seems like a good idea, so Isabeau does it too, but it must only work for Sif because Isabeau can’t seem to get any calmer.

Sif leans in—

—and then they just. Stop.

“Oh,” they say quietly. “Hm.”

“S-Sif?” Isabeau squeaks. “You’re kinda killing me here.”

Sif looks faintly amused, which might be infuriating if it wasn't so cute. “Sorry. It turned out I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not????”

“Too scary.”

Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. (Not that Isabeau can relate or anything.)

“And it’s probably… rude?”

Ohh. Right. There are three other people asleep on the other side of the room. They're all so exhausted from fighting the King that they could probably sleep through several earthquakes and a hurricane, but it's the principle of the thing. Isabeau isn’t being spineless. He’s just being… principled. Probably.

“And there’s… time, now,” Sif says softly. “So. I can always try again later.”

Isabeau can’t suppress a flinch. Right. Because of course it's all on Siffrin. They already know that they’re sharing a bed with the biggest coward in the whole stupid country. Isabeau already kept them waiting for an entire year of the same stupid day. “Um. Sif?”

“Isa?”

“Am I a huge loser?”

Siffrin snorts a laugh. “No.”

“How do you still like me after seeing what I’m really like???”

“I like that you’re a coward,” Sif says simply. Matter-of-fact. Like they’re just remarking on the weather, and not blowing a smoking crater through Isabeau’s whole worldview. “It just makes it cooler when you decide to be brave.”

Isabeau’s head feels light. “…I really love you, okay?”

Sif nods.

“No, but like. Really.”

Another nod. “I know.”

Of course they do. They’ve been watching him try to say it for an entire time-stuck year.

…Crab, but he’s pathetic.

Isabeau can hear his pulse thudding in his ears. His heart is battering at his sternum like it's trying to fight its way out. But he’s already kept them waiting so long. Sif has done so much for him, so much more than they could ever know, and this is— This is something he can do for them.

Tentatively, with excruciating gentleness, he brushes their bangs to one side and presses his lips to their forehead. He can hear Sif’s breath catch and it’s just encouragement enough for Isabeau to will his arm into motion, carding his fingers through their hair before his hand comes to rest at the nape of their neck. Siffrin smells like ash and moonlight. Like sugar and silver and salt.

When he draws back to read their reaction, Sif’s face is violently flushed. Their pupil is blown wide, like a cat that saw a squirrel. Or like someone who’s been waiting on a total coward for an entire year of the same shitty day.

“Wow,” Isabeau whispers.

Sif nods vigorously. Then they tug on the end of his sleeve. “Take this off.”

(UM????) “Sif???”

“Isa.”

“A-Are you going to ravish me?”

Sif chokes on a laugh. “Stars. You can calm down. No one’s getting ravished.”

…Aw.

“I just wanted to see you. More of you. I guess I want…” Sif looks away, letting their hair fall over their face. “…Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“I bet it’s not.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I bet I wo~on’t.”

Sif rolls their eye. “I wanted to. Um. Memorize you, I guess. So I can’t forget. So even if you’re different later, or… you Change into someone who wants something else… I’ll still know you were real.”

“Siiiif!!!!” Isa wails, as quietly as he can manage while totally losing his mind. “You’re gonna make me cry!!!!”

Siffrin looks baffled. “What? Why?”

“And why would I think that was stupid????”

“Because it… goes against Change?”

“Loving someone doesn’t go against Change!!” Isabeau says indignantly. “Love, like, is Change!!! You’ve already changed me so much!! You change me all the time!!!!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh!!!!”

Sif rolls their eye. “By—upsetting you, or making you anxious—”

“Nnnnnnnope! By being the funniest guy I’ve ever seen! And being totally stupid-cool in a crisis! And only always doing what you want!”

Siffrin huffs a laugh. “You have no idea what I want.”

“So tell me!!!”

“I—” Sif hesitates. “I just mean. Everything you think about me… It’s just because I got to decide what happened, for a while. I’m the only one who had the script, so of course I could say all the right lines. But the whole time, it was all just—”

“Sif!!!!” Isabeau cuts in. “You were so mean!!!!!”

Siffrin’s eye widens.

“I don’t love you ‘cause you got god-powers for two stupid days! Which you spent being really mean, by the way! And going off on your own! And being reckless and thoughtless and scaring the crab out of everyone!!!”

Sif looks painfully regretful.

Isabeau curses himself. Why can’t he be better at this? “Nonono, I don’t mean— I just meant!! I don’t love you because you time traveled!! I love you ‘cause of all the stuff before!!”

Now they’re really confused. “What? No. But I wasn’t—”

“You were!! Super lovable!! The whole time!!!”

Sif gives him a critical squint. “That… doesn’t seem right.”

“But it is!!!”

“…Huh,” Sif says. “Um. Well. No accounting for taste.” He tugs on Isa’s shirtsleeve. “So take this off already.”

Isabeau flushes. “You—um. Are you—”

“We just did this,” Sif says impatiently. “No one’s getting ravished. I just want to look.”

Isabeau heaves a sigh. “If I take off my shirt, do you promise to stop thinking that I fell in love with you because you ‘tricked me,’ or anything stupid like that?”

“Yes.”

“Sif!! That was too fast!!!!”

Sif shrugs.

“Pffff,” Isabeau sputters. “You’re a real piece of work, do you know that?”

Siffrin’s face darkens. “Yes.”

“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean—” But that’s when he notices the spark in Siffrin’s eye. “Sif!! Are you messing with me???”

“I’m not sure,” Sif says archly. “I haven’t decided.”

###

When he wriggles out of his shirt, Siffrin’s eye gets very wide. “Oh,” they whisper.

Isabeau cringes. Right. Sif didn't join the party till the weather had already started to turn, so of course they haven’t seen his scar.

Body Craft has made a lot of advances in the past few years. If he wanted, Isabeau could have got rid of the scarring. But he kind of likes it. It makes his Change feel more… personal? Like a grave marker for his old life, stamped right on his chest. Or like an exoskeleton or something. Armor that grew around his former self. "…Is it weird?"

Siffrin shakes their head fast. “Pretty.”

Isabeau flushes. “Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not."

“It’s okay if you—”

“No,” Sif says quickly. “It’s not like that. It’s just. Um.” They trace the scar with the tip of one finger, point by point by point. Isabeau can feel all the hair on his neck stand up straight. “It’s… like a star.”

“You don’t… mind?”

Sif huffs another laugh. “Isa. I’m— You’re. It’s not… You really shouldn’t like me like this.”

“Why the crab not???”

“I’m not like you,” Sif says grimly. They flash another smile, but this one doesn’t reach their eyes. “I’m—um. Well. It doesn’t matter, because you’re just going to disagree. But I’m really not how you think. I was just pretending so people would like me. There’s nothing really true about me. I’m… not good. Or honest. Or even really real.”

“And I am?”

“...Obviously?”

“Hah. C’mon, Sif, you should know better. You’re the one who said it.” All the stuff that Siffrin said before running off to fight the King alone… Of course it stung. It still stings. But it only hurt so bad because Isabeau knew that they were right. “You’re, like, the only one who knows that I’m a total fake. I only Changed on the outside. Underneath, I’m the same spineless loser as always.”

“You’re not—”

“Sif.”

Siffrin falls silent. Of course they know the truth of it. They’ve seen Isabeau try to be brave a hundred different times, in a hundred different lifetimes. And they’ve seen him weasel out every. Single. Time.

Isa smiles unhappily. “So… you know what I’m like. And you still wanna… um. Be around me, or whatever.”

“…Uh huh.”

“S-So get bent, Sif!! You don’t know anything!! You’re not doing any worse than me!!!”

Sif quirks an eyebrow. “I think I’m doing a little worse.”

“You’re not!!! You’re just—” But it's pointless. Sif has already made up his mind. “Oh… It doesn’t matter!!! No one is more real than anyone else, is all I’m saying!! We’re all just trying not to suck!!!! And sometimes being sucky is our first instinct, but we still have to try!!!"

“Oh,” Sif says quietly. They chew their lip for a moment, like they’re actually thinking about it. “Is that true?”

“Huh? Yeah! Of course!!”

“…Oh.”

“You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know.”

Pfff. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know,” Sif says seriously. “It’s my best quality.”

“It soooo isn’t.”

“That and my pun-derful sense of humor.”

“…Okay, that might actually be one of your best qualities.”

Sif nods sagely. “Why be actually wise when you can crack wise instead?”

Isabeau stifles a laugh against his pillow.

“No wonder I could solo the House,” Sif says airily. “I don't even need Piercing Craft to leave 'em in stitches. Ehh?"

“HAH!!!” Oops. That was definitely too loud.

Sure enough, a half-second later, there’s a blur of white. Siffrin doesn’t even look. His arm flicks out and swipes the pillow right out of the air. “Sorry, Bonnie.”

“We’re sorry, Bonbon!!!”

“Not yet,” hisses Madame Odile, with audible murderous intent. “But you will be soon if you don’t shut. Up.”

“Oooooh!!” Bonnie cackles. “Dile said a swear!!!”

“‘Shut up’ is not a swear, Boniface.”

“So I can say it too???”

“No.”

“You guys,” Mirabelle says pitifully. “Please… I didn’t beat the King just to die of sleep deprivation…”

“Sorry sorry sorry!!!” Isabeau wails. “We’ll be quiet!!! We’re being so quiet!!!”

Sif nods his agreement. “So quiet, you can hear a pun drop.”

“Siffrin,” Madame Odile hisses. “One more joke, and you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

Siffrin’s eye lights up. Oh, crab, they definitely just thought of another one.

Before they can draw breath, Isabeau clamps a hand over their mouth. “Good night, you guys!! We love you!!! And your merciful nature!! And also our continued survival!!!”

“Hrmph,” Odile huffs.

“Gross!!” Bonnie giggles.

“Love you guys so much,” mumbles Mirabelle, already half-asleep.

Isabeau raises his eyebrows at Sif, like, Are you going to be good?

Sif wrinkles their nose at him, then rolls their eye. Fine. But only under duress.

###

Sif passes out maybe two seconds after the room goes quiet. Isabeau can’t say the same. How is he supposed to get sleepy with Sif’s back pressed snugly to his chest? With his arm wrapped tight around them and their little hands still clutching onto his, like even in sleep, they’re trying to get closer? How is he ever going to fall asleep when he's living out his giddiest, most far-flung fantasy in real life?

But when he opens his eyes, it’s already morning.

###

They’ve both shifted a little in sleep. Siffrin’s wrapped around him like a climbing vine, half-awake but still dozing. When they feel him stirring, they give him a crooked smile.

“It’s—” Sif hesitates. “Do you… um. Or. We… don’t have plans to fight the King today, do we?”

Isabeau shakes his head. “You’re okay, Sif. It’s done.”

He watches them take that in. The light in their eye is wondering, reverent. “…It’s really tomorrow?”

“Really really.”

Sif lifts one hand to their chest. They take a deep breath in… and out. “Wow,” they whisper. “Cool.”

Then they tuck themself into the crook of his arm and go back to sleep.

I don't have any particular plans to write more, but I am subject to my own whims, so.... if you wanna find out if I do, feel free to swing by ao3 & subscribe to the series!

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[chestersturniolo]

special candy

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader x Chris Sturniolo

Summary; you unknowingly eat some of dealer!matt & dealer!chris’ “special candy” whilst they’re out on their runs..

warnings; chratt poly relationship dynamic! if you are not comfortable with this, do not read // drug use (ofc) , pet names, tripping out (ish) — based on this request

Matt and Chris were currently out handling business, leaving you to your own devices for a couple of hours. As hunger creeps in, you lug yourself off of the couch to scrounge the kitchen, you spot a bag of gummies on the kitchen counter. You don’t think twice. You grab one, then two, then three- before you know it, you’ve polished off almost the entire bag.

You return to the couch, sinking into the cushions, opening your book back up. A chunk of time goes by before things start to feel…strange. Your breathing feels too deliberate, manual even, like you have to focus on every inhale and exhale. Your stomach churns, and time becomes a bizarre concept- minutes feel like hours, or maybe it’s the other way around. The words in the pages of your book start to morph. You squeeze your eyes shut to refocus them, trying to control your breaths and ignore this abnormal feeling.

A small while later you hear front door open, footsteps echoing up the stairs. Matt is the first to reach the living room. He spots you on the couch, grinning as he makes his way over. “Hey sweetheart” he says, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand.

You skip the usual greeting as you jut your lip out “I don’t feel well” you whine, eyes glossy.

Matt frowns, sitting down next to you, “Ah what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, frowning with concern, before brushing a soft kiss to your lips. The moment his lips leave yours, his expression shifts. His eyes widen. “You taste like…blue raspberry” His voice is slow, laced with panic. He grips your jaw, coaxing your mouth open “Fuck” he mutters under his breath, as his eyes land on your bright blue tongue.

Just in time , Chris reaches the top of the stairs, a couple of duffle bags he had retrieved from the trunk slung over his shoulder. Matt stands abruptly,marching over to him “Where the fuck did you leave that batch, Chris?!”

Chris blinked, confused “On the counter…?” he shrugs casually. The confusion lasts only a second until Matt flails his hands toward you. Chris’s eyes widen, and the duffel bags drop to the floor with a thud. He hurries over, crouching down in front of you, hooking a finger under your chin to inspect you

You blink at him slowly, your eyes heavy lidded “I’m sorry I ate your candy..i was hungry-“ you mumble “-I’ll buy you more, I promise!”

Chris ran a hand over his face, “No, you don’t understand, that was special candy, kid. Product!”

From the kitchen, Matt’s voice was frantic “She ate most of them!” he says, as he holds up the bag in the air , a couple of stray blue bears at the bottom. He chucked it down on the counter as he comes back to the couch, raking a hand through his hair.

Panic welled up inside you, your breathing growing shallow. “I-I didn’t mean to…Is this really bad?- am I gonna die?” fear in your voice

In that moment, the boys realise that they need to push their own freaking out aside and help you ride this out. Matt immediately sat beside you, placing his hand on your cheek “No, hey, listen to me - don’t panic, okay?” He shot a glare at Chris, who was pacing now, before turning back to you. “I need you to relax, baby. Talk to me, what are you feeling?”

Tears welled up in your eyes “Time is moving really…slow..and I feel like I’m tingly,and in..in bubble wrap” you pause for what feels like an hour “don’t feel good Matt” Your voice cracked, and you clung to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Chris lets out a big sigh before rummaging through the duffel bags, pulling out a bag of identical blue gummies. Matt’s eyes narrowed “The fuck are you doin’?”

Chris muttered, more to himself than anyone else “Shit’s my fault” He looked at you, guilt in his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? Look, I’m gonna do it with you” he says in a reassuring voice before quite literally shovelling them into his mouth.

The batch wasn’t majorly strong, but since you barely ever used substances, it was hitting you hard. He knew that taking them wouldn’t put him on the same level as you, considering his tolerance was worlds apart from yours, but he also knew that you seeing him doing so, would calm you down

And it worked, as you watched him chew, you felt a sense of reassurance, knowing you’re not alone in it.

~

Matt had tucked you into a blanket, you were sinking deeper into the couch as the initial waves of panic began to subside. The room felt both too quiet and too loud, and it was almost like you could hear the air bouncing around the room. The lights seemed brighter, and everything felt far away. Each breath still felt like work.

Matt stayed close, his arm wrapped protectively around you. His hand moved in slow circles over your back,. “Just keep breathing with me, okay?” He took exaggerated deep breaths, guiding you. “In…and out, that’s it”

You tried to mimic him, but it felt like your body wasn’t quite yours “Matt…it’s weird, everything’s weird” you whispered,

Chris knelt in front of you, resting his hands on your knees “Listen to me ma, you’re okay..this is just the gummies messin’ with you, i feel it too” he bluffed. He barely felt a thing…and although he hated lying, in times like these, a little comforting white lie never hurt anyone,right?

“It’ll pass, I promise” he continues , reaching for your hands, holding them firmly “squeeze my hand when it feels too much, yeah?” he says, taking a seat on the other side of you. You nod, holding onto his hands for dear life.

Matt glaced at Chris, silently communicating something before standing and heading into the kitchen. You watched him leave, slight panic flaring again “Where’s he going?” you ask, your eyes trained on him. Chris cupped your face, forcing you to look at him “He’s just getting you some water angel, you need to stay hydrated. Focus on me, okay?” His eyes searched yours, softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Matt returned moments later with a glass of water and a damp cloth. He sat back down in his spot beside you, pressing the cloth to your forehead, before guiding the glass of water to your lips “Small sips”

You took a few hesitant sips, the icy water doing wonders for your cotton mouth. You push the glass away after a few more sips before huffing, “It feels like…like I’m floating” you whispered, blinking slowly.

Matt set the water down on the coffee table, and his hand falls to your thigh “You’re on solid ground, baby. Feel the couch under you? Feel my hand?” he says, giving a small squeeze to your leg. He guided your hand to the blanket, letting you feel its texture. You nod slowly, playing with the soft fluff.

He pressed a kiss to your temple before glancing at Chris, nodding toward the TV “Put something on, something light”

Chris grabbed the remote, flicking through channels until he landed on a nature documentary. The calming voice of the narrator filled the room “This should help” he shrugs, glancing back at you.

You watched the screen, the vivid colors too bright, too intense “It’s…too much” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

Chris quickly turned the lights off, and turned the volume down “Better?”

You nodded, letting yourself get lost in the life of a polar bear.

~

As the initial anxiousness faded, a different sensation took over. Your stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet. You glanced up at Matt, with hazy puppy dog eyes “I’m…really hungry”

Matt exchanged a glance with Chris, a hint of amusement softening their worry “The munchies” Chris murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Matt chuckled, pulling out his phone “Alright baby,what do you want? We’ll get you whatever you need”

“Everything” you pleaded , pulling a chuckle from them both.

Within minutes, they had food on the way-pizza, burgers, fries, ice cream. Chris disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and returning with snacks..chips, cookies, anything he could find. He handed you a bag of chips, watching you carefully. You practically snatched them from him

You crunched on them, eyes widening in delight. “These are the best chips I’ve ever had” you mumbled around a mouthful, crumbs falling onto the blanket.

Chris laughed softly, as he settled back in beside you, brushing them crumbs off your lap “Glad you’re feeling a little better” he smiled as he noticed a crumb on the corner of your mouth, reaching his thumb to wipe it off “pretty girl”

~

They stayed close,both planted either side of you. Whenever a random wave of strange feelings hit, they were there, talking you through it, grounding you.

Eventually the food arrived, they set everything up on the coffee table, letting you pick at whatever you wanted. It was the best meal you’d ever had, everything tasted like magic. You’d even lathered some ice cream on a pizza slice, making the most disgustingly delicious concoction. Matt and Chris watched you in awe.

Once you’d finished your food, and your belly was fulll, exhaustion set in. Your head drooped onto Chris’ shoulder, your eyes heavy. “M’tired” you mumbled.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head as Matt reaches and pulls the blanket over you further “Sleep sweetheart, we’ve got you”

It was seconds before you drifted off, feeling like the couch was swallowing you in its comfort. Every few minutes, Chris leaned in, carefully checking on your breathing, his ear close to your slightly open mouth.

Now you were asleep, Matt took the opportunity to scold his brother further ,, “Never leave our fuckin’ shit out again y’hear me?” he said with a stern look

Chris let out a big sigh, letting his head fall back with a guilty look, before nodding “Lesson learned bruh”

dividers - @strangergraphics-archive

AN; thankyou so much for the request anon! i had so so much fun writing this!! i included some of my personal “trips” in here lmao.

hope y’all enjoyed! - 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel master list

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.

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[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐍𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐆𝐢 𝐅𝐭.𝐎𝐭𝟖 ♡

Day Four - Bite and Bondage

【Synopsis】 : It was just an innocent game of truth of dare. Nothing bad was going to happen... Right?

『Word count』 : 2.28k

-> Genre: Smut. Non!Idol au  

Pairing: Friends!Ateez x Fem!Reader 

[Warnings] : Pet names. Drinking. Everyone is tipsy and stupid, okay! Lots of mouths are involved... swearing. Biting. Marking. Hickies. this is a mess. I'm sorry.

Networks: @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @atzhouse @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

It was a typical night. Well, if you called a typical night being filled with drinks, board games, and shouting. Then, typical it was. Everything was going swiftly as you were currently watching your two friends, Wooyoung and Yeosang, try to see who could take the most shots the quickest. Surprisingly, Yeosang won, downing more shots than Wooyoung before he tapped out.

“Man, I don’t even know where half of that shit went.” Wooyoung groaned, trying to touch Sangies tummy, but the older male just flicked his friend's hands away with a grumble.

“Trust me I’ll feel it later.” Yeosang burped, making everyone give out hardy cackles. The game continued with loud cheering as each member picked up a card from the deck and played whatever it asked. From San snogging Hongjoong, to Mingi eating strange combinations of foods. The laughter was endless… that was until it got to your turn.

“7 minutes in hell.” You read the card with a raised brow. “Hell? I thought it was always heaven, no?” Your scan around the room suggested the boys knew more than you and it caused a flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t know what 7 minutes in hell is?” Yunho smirked while taking a sip of his beer.

“This is gonna be fun.” Wooyoung snickered, causing Seonghwa to roll his eyes at him. But yet they all had the same expression, one with a lingering hunger. They were no longer looking at you like their childhood friend, no, they were looking at you like you were just a piece of meat.

“Can someone explain...” You felt singled out, making a shot of anxiety spike through your gut. Jongho leaned over from where he sat, placing his hand gently on your exposed leg, giving you a warm smile.

“Hey it’s okay…” Like he could sense your uneasiness, his comfort brought a small smile to your face. He was always so caring towards you, but then again, they all were. “The game is, you are blindfolded and you have to guess who is touching you.” You could feel your face beginning to burn up, “Since it’s hell, the back of the card should tell you what part the other players will use.” Okay, now you were definitely redder than the wine you are drinking.

“B-body part…” You looked back down at the card and for a moment you felt your heart stop… “Mouth.”

You could have sworn every single male in the room groaned at this discovery but then again It might have just been the high-pitched ringing in your ear from the sudden dizziness in your head. Jongho’s hand moved from your leg to your shoulder, squeezing the flesh softly to get your attention. Your neck snapped quickly, looking at him with wide glossed eyes. “You don’t have to do the dare if you don’t want to, honey. You can just take a shot instead.”

All the boys began to agree, not wanting to make you uncomfortable even though they had all but dreamed something like this would happen. Like some twisted sexy fantasy where they all finally get a taste of you. You didn’t even wait for a second to go by before you said a quick and sharp ‘I want to’. truthfully you wished your words had not come out so desperately but then again, the way each of your friends looked at you caused the reaction. “Well then. Someone go get a blindfold.”

You’ve never seen San get up so quickly, practically bolting down the hall before reappearing with a soft red silk blindfold. Of course, he owns one. You eyed Yeosang as you watched him move one of the chairs from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the room. You were about to speak but Jongho caught your attention again by grabbing your hand softly. “Okay, Honey. So we are going to let you sit in that chair while blindfolded and when you are ready, we’ll pick someone to start.”

You felt your heart beating fast against your chest at the sheer idea of eight different mouths being placed on your body. But it wasn’t like they were going to bite you or anything, right? They were just going to place their soft plump, kissable lips on your body for you to guess who. Simple enough…

"You ready?" Jongho's voice was so sweet, dripping with admiration. You were screwed. You nodded with a little 'yes', letting him lead you by your hand to sit on the wooden chair. San handed him the blindfold, putting the soft silk on your face to cover your wide, slightly panicked eyes. "We're gonna pick now, so you just gotta stay still. We'll tap you when someone is gonna touch you, okay?"

"Okay... I, I'm ready." You let out a shaky sigh, feeling like your senses were heightened from the loss of vision. It was like you could suddenly hear every little sound, from feet shuffling to soft inaudible whispers and hand smacks. You could hear light footsteps coming towards you making your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth felt dry as you tried to swallow big gulps of air. And then you felt a tap on your shoulder telling you that the man before you was ready. You let out an unsteady hum, letting the male know you were also ready.

His hands gently grabbed each side of your face, tilting your head slightly to the side to expose your bare neck to him. He could see the pulse in your jugular speeding up at his slight touch. It made him grin like a Cheshire cat. His soft lips finally touched your hot skin, and it made you instantly shift in your seat. He stayed still for a moment before you felt his mouth part, letting his tongue slip out just enough for you to feel the wetness of his appendage. “D-do I guess n-nnow…”

“Fuck…” You moaned out without thinking, your hands flying from your lap to the sides of the chair gripping on the wood like your life depended on it. The male growled a chuckle again before unlatching his mouth from your body. You let out a deep breath that you didn’t realise you were holding, feeling your clawed hands release from the poor chair. All your friends were watching the whole endeavour intensely, trying their best not to make any sounds. San took a step back from your shaky body, feeling a sense of pride from making you moan. He pulled your shirt to the side and his hand that was on the back of your neck had completely dishevelled your hair making you successfully look like a mess. A hot, irresistible mess.

You had become a stuttering melting mess, feeling yourself being lost in the idea of all your friend's mouths on different parts of your body. The man currently still holding you in his tight grip grunts right in your ear, letting you know you can start the game. You gulp, feeling him move again, dragging his teeth along your goose-bumped flesh. You could feel his hands shift as well, one falling to just the base of your neck. While the hold stayed put on your jaw, his thumb gently soothed your cheek. His hands were huge, but they weren't big enough to hold the side of your face. And they were moisturised too… hmm, who is he? You thought, trying your hardest to guess. It was then he bit down on your shoulder, you sucked in a sharp pop.

“You okay there Doll?” You could hear Wooyoung call out from the table. The man in front of you was already back with the others so they now could speak freely.

“Y-yeah… I’m good.” You whispered, reaching for your shoulder, feeling the cold wind tickle your wet skin. Your fingertips grazed where San’s mouth was and what you felt made your head spin and your heart skip… “Y-you bit me…” None of them replied though, no, it was a dead silence that caused you to gulp lowly. You could feel them all staring in fear and desire. No one dared to move even an inch. And then you spoke. “S-someone is gonna have to go next before I can answer…you know. Reference and all..”

You felt stupid saying that, and your face showed it. Burning a bright red to match the colour of the blindfold, making all the guys smile. You suddenly could hear shuffling again, making your heart rate ease. You went to speak again, but before you could, a pair of hands grabbed your shoulders gently, making you jump. But then another pair snaked onto your thighs. There were two of them, one behind you and another in front, most likely kneeling. The rougher hands that were on your thighs slowly shifted until they reached the hem of your shirt, tugging on the fabric. You finally spoke, “D-do you need me to move my shirt for you…”

A grunt followed.

“Okay…” You felt so small but yet you had all the power, all these men were just begging to touch you and you had no clue how they picked from your loss of sight. They were all fighting. Pushing in line to get a taste of you. None of them even cared if you guessed correctly or even guessed at all. Any excuse to have you was all they wanted. And when you pulled your shirt off you could hear an echo of men groaning. But it wasn’t from the spacious room. No, all eight of them groaned, whined, and whimpered seeing your perfect breasts hiding just behind your bra.

The softer hands moved your bra straps ever so slightly, letting them just hang off your shoulders. While the rougher hands grabbed your knees, spreading your legs, letting his large body snake between them. Your whole body was shaking when you felt a hot breath pool against your neck and inner thigh. A grunt followed by the rougher man making your gulp replying with a quick “I’m read—heungg f-fuck.”

You didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence before you felt the two men, bite you. Not kiss, no. They both bit you, hard. You yelped, your hands flying instinctively to the hair that belonged to the man in front of you. You felt his short locks tangle in between your fingers, tugging at the pleasure surging through your veins. You could recognize this hairstyle, the undercut, the length on the top… it could only be one person. The man made a low grunt through his nose at the pain on his scalp. Be pulled off you, chuckling. “That’s cheating.”

“M-Mingi.” You moan, tipping your head back, letting it rest against the toned abdomen of the man behind you. You shifted your head, tilting your neck until you could feel the cotton of the shirt the man behind you was wearing. You could smell his cologne. “Sangie…”

“Now that’s definitely cheating,” Yeosang whispered in your ear, unlatching his mouth from your shoulder to see his pretty mark next to Sans. Yeosang kissed along your neck, up to your jaw before kissing your cheek lightly. You moved your head in his direction, begging, craving for him to just forget about the game and kiss you instead…“Maybe we should tie her hands up for the next round.”

“Fuck please.” You moaned a little too quickly for your liking, wanting nothing more to be tied up for your friends.

“Someone grab a tie, or rope. Fucking anything.” You could hear Yeosang bark in the direction of your friends followed by a bunch of sporadic footsteps. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling Mingi kiss up your thigh, his hand spreading your legs further to let him have his way with you. His hums were music to your ears as he inched closer to where you needed him, where you were craving him. Just a little more you thought over and over again.

“I got one.” You heard Seonghwa’s voice this time. It was deeper than normal, making you shiver. You guess Yeosang had grabbed your wrists, holding them together while another started to bind them behind the chair. Your chest rose heavily with every deep breath. And with your hands now stuck in place and your vision still concealed… the game has now officially begun.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼�� 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[museanddream]

One Night - part 3 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | strap-ons, degrading language, exhibitionism, voyeurism

Word count: 4k

part 1 | part 2

You keep kissing Ona like you’ve got nothing better to do. Which you do, but her lips, the feeling of her body underneath yours, her arms and legs wrapped around you so that it’d be hard to extract yourself from her embrace even if you wanted to, is enough of a distraction to stop things from progressing much further.

Eventually, the rest of your clothes come off, tugged at by Ona’s eager hands. It’s a bit of a miracle that they managed to stay on for this long, but you suppose you had more important things on your mind. Namely, getting Ona out of her clothes.

With no barriers between your hot skin and Ona’s, what comes next is back at the front of your mind, more pressing than any distractions.

“Where do you keep your toys?”

The whine that Ona lets out when you pull away from her lips fades into nothing when she registers your question.

Her eyes darken and flicker towards the nightstand.

“In the top.”

You thank Ona with another kiss, then crawl off the bed. You have to walk past Lucy, who you’d almost forgotten was still watching, to get to the bedside table. Your eyes meet as you pass, her expression not giving anything away, until her gaze drops down your body and a glint of hunger flashes across her face.

Putting an extra sway to your hips for the last couple of steps, you reach for the handle of the drawer and slide it open to look through it for a strap.

Their toy drawer is well-stocked but doesn’t contain anything particularly unexpected. A blindfold, some silk ties, a couple of vibrators. Your hand reaches for the harness that lies on top and as you lift it from the drawer, your gaze catches on a metal plug that had been hidden beneath.

Your cunt clenches at the sight, thinking of the similar one in your own toy collection, before you turn your attention to the dildos in the drawer instead. They have a few different ones, different lengths and girths, one with more of a pronounced curve to it and one that has a second bulbous end that would fit inside you, but your eyes are drawn to the biggest toy in the drawer. It’s probably bigger than anything you’ve ever taken and definitely bigger than anything you’ve ever worn.

It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out which of the two of them uses it on the other.

“Not that one.” Lucy’s voice rises up from the corner of the bedroom as she watches you lift the biggest dildo out of the drawer. “That’s mine.”

The decision is made for you by Lucy’s possessiveness.

Slotting the dildo through the ring in the front of the harness, you turn your head to look at Lucy and reply, “Really? I could’ve sworn I was about to fuck your girlfriend with it. Let’s ask Ona, huh?” You turn your attention back to Ona and ask, “Whose dick is this, Ona?”

The answer from Ona is instantaneous.

“Yours.”

As you step into the harness and start fixing it around your hips, you smile triumphantly across at Lucy and say, “I think that’s one to me, Bronzey.”

Lucy folds her arms across her chest but if she didn’t want you to use this toy, she’d get up from her chair and actually stop you from using it, which she doesn’t.

“You can’t win at sex,” Lucy replies with a disgruntled pout.

“Definitely feels like I’m winning.”

Satisfied with the fit of the harness, you crawl your way back onto the bed where Ona waits patiently for you. Her eyes are on the toy, wide as they watch the way it bobs with each movement you make.

“Is this still okay?” you ask as you crawl between her legs, realising that your animal brain has chosen the biggest toy for rather selfish reasons instead of asking Ona which one she’d like to use.

Ona’s dark gaze flits up to your face and then, with a pleading look in her eyes, she nods once.

You reward her with a kiss. And it can only have been three minutes since you last kissed her, but you kiss her like it was three years.

Ona kisses you back just as eagerly, like she simply can’t get enough of you. Her tongue slides wetly against yours, while her hands claw at your waist, pulling you as close as she can physically get you. With no space between your bodies, the toy gets caught between your stomachs, the angle of it causing the harness to press against your clit. You can’t help but take advantage of that, rolling your hips into Ona’s to give yourself something to grind against.

Realising what you’re doing, one of Ona’s hands slides back further and paws at your ass, her hips shifting beneath you as she tries to manoeuvre the toy towards where she wants it.

Pulling back from the kiss, you lean your forehead against Ona’s, stilling the slow grind of your hips enough to be able to say, “I want you on top.”

Ona pulls you in for another kiss with a hand on the back of your neck, hungry enough to tell you that she wants that too. As you tongues slide against each other, you lose yourself in the kiss, enough of a distraction that it takes you by surprise when Ona hooks a leg around your hips and swiftly rolls you onto your back.

You let out a little grunt as your back hits the mattress.

Ona looks like a goddess sitting astride your hips. Even more so when she sits back and reaches up to tie her hair up into a messy bun on the back of her head. The stretch only emphasises the lines of her body - the muscles of her abs and the curve of her breasts.

Having her on top seemed like such a good idea less than a minute ago. Now you don’t know how you’re going to make it through alive.

As she wraps the elastic on her wrist around her hair, you send your hand between her legs, testing her entrance with two fingers. Ona falters, eyes fluttering shut as you push inside. She’s still wet from before but deliciously sensitive too, clenching around you in an echo of her previous orgasm.

“Another?” you ask her, after a few thrusts, knowing that the toy you’re preparing her for will be much more of a stretch than what she’s already taken.

Ona rocks against your hand, then nods.

You tuck a third finger alongside the first two and ease it inside, a little deeper with each thrust until you’re filling her completely.

The moan that Ona lets out is more wrecked than any other sounds she’s made tonight. And if this is what she sounds like when it’s your fingers inside her, you can’t even begin to imagine what sounds will leave her mouth when it’s your cock that she’s riding.

One of Ona’s hands drops between her own legs. As her fingers find her own clit, she grinds down into your hand and you can feel her getting wetter still.

It’d be so tempting to let her continue like this. Having already seen her fall apart once, you’ve got a taste for it now and it’s all you want over and over again.

And maybe you would let her come again before you fuck her properly, except that Ona has other ideas. Her hand drops, slick fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand out from between her legs. She lets out a gentle sigh as your fingers slip out of her, but it’s your turn to groan when she immediately reaches for your toy and lines the head of the cock up where your fingers were just seconds ago.

“Fuck.”

It should be her swearing as she slowly sinks down onto the toy, but you’re helpless to the way that the expletive leaves your lips.

You don’t quite know where to look. Ona’s face is something you want to commit to memory, teeth digging into her lower lip, eyelids so heavy that they’re almost closed, her eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure. But you can hardly tear your gaze away from between her legs, where her pussy swallows each inch of your cock until you’re filling her completely.

Her hips flush against yours, Ona pauses with her eyes still closed. And though your animal instinct is to want to rut up into her, you lie still to give her a chance to get familiar with the feeling of having so much of you inside her.

At least, that was your intention until Lucy speaks up.

“Go on,” she urges Ona. “Ride her. There’s no need to pretend you need warming up.”

Ona opens her eyes and turns her head to glare over her shoulder at Lucy, but with the hazy look in her eyes and her general sex-rumpled appearance, she doesn’t look anywhere near as fierce as she probably wants to.

You glance across at Lucy too, who simply raises her eyebrows at Ona in a challenge, a familiar smirk gracing her lips.

Slowly, Ona rolls her hips against yours. Despite what Lucy said, she seems to be trying to get used to the feeling of you inside her, grinding gently back and forth.

Your hands settle on her hips, just to give yourself something to hold onto as she starts to slide up the length of the strap, before sinking back down again. Her eyes are furrowed shut, her breathing heavy and interspersed with pretty little grunts. She takes her pleasure from your toy and it’s all you can do to lie there and help her up and down, barely able to take in the sight of her on top of you.

“So greedy for it,” you managed to choke out, very aware that any control you might have over the situation is hanging on by a single thread.

Ona leans over you to press her mouth to yours, hot and open-mouthed and so messy but it’s perfect. The way she rides you is perfect, the way she kisses you, surrounds you, overwhelms you is all so perfect.

She pulls back from the kiss with a gasp and it gives you a split second to breathe and think.

“Did you talk about this with Lucy too?” you ask her, surprised at how husky your voice comes out. “Did you tell her you wanted me like this?”

Lucy speaks up, “She’s always a desperate little whore when there’s a strap involved. Always so ready to be filled up.”

“You’ve had a lot of practice, huh?” you tease Ona. “No wonder you look so good riding it.”

You send your hand up Ona’s sides and over her ribcage until you’ve got her tits in your palms, giving them a generous squeeze to elicit another moan.

You still can’t really believe that you’re having her like this. That Ona, who is so sweet and lovely and has the face of an angel, is letting out such filthy noises as she rides you in a desperate chase of her second orgasm of the night.

Your mind wanders again to Lucy, who must have seen Ona like this countless times before. Yet when you look over at her, there’s an expression of pure wonder on her face that probably mirrors your own, like it’s the first time for her too.

“Touch yourself,” you instruct her.

Lucy seems to fall back into reality, blinking a few times as her gaze switches from Ona to you.

You can probably count on one hand the number of times Lucy has willingly followed an order from you in the bedroom and she’s clearly not about to start now.

“Nah, I’m alright,” she answers, with a nonchalant shrug, as if she wasn’t just transfixed by the sight of Ona.

Ona arches her back prettily as she stops riding you and instead grinds in slow circles against your hips, letting out a low whine.

“Please, Lucy.”

You rest your hands on Ona’s hips to still her so that you can put all your focus on Lucy.

Now this is more of a dilemma. You can see it in her eyes. She wants to fulfil Ona’s wish, but not at the expense of conceding to you too.

Eventually it’s Ona, who lets out a particularly theatrical moan despite the fact that your hands on her hips are preventing her from being able to do anything to the toy that would cause her to make such a noise, who wins out in Lucy’s mind.

Green eyes bore into yours as Lucy starts to undress, the staring contest between the two of you only breaking for long enough for Lucy to pull her T-shirt over her head. When it drops to the floor, she stands up to unbutton her trousers, letting them fall down her legs and kicking them off her feet before she sits back down in just her underwear.

You manage to refrain from teasing Lucy about how whipped she is, though mostly because Ona starts moving again and the sight of her bouncing up and down on your cock with her eyes furrowed shut and her lips slightly parted is enough to render you speechless.

The view is too good to gatekeep. And Lucy probably deserves some kind of reward.

“Turn around,” you tell Ona, stilling her movements with your hands on her hips. “Show Lucy how pretty you look riding my cock.”

You help Ona to lift herself from the toy, pleased with the dissatisfied little whine she lets out when it slips free and bounces towards your stomach. But then your hands are guiding Ona to turn around, still with one knee on either side of your hips as she faces Lucy.

Sparing a quick glance to the corner of the room, you’re pleased with what you see. Lucy still wears her underwear but her legs are parted, her good knee bent with her foot planted against the fabric of the chair, while her hand rests teasingly over her clothed pussy.

Wanting to give Lucy something to touch herself properly over, you fist the toy again, slick with Ona’s arousal, and guide it back towards her cunt.

Bracing her hands on your thighs, Ona sinks down onto the toy without needing to be asked twice.

She really is as eager for it as Lucy said she was, moving up and down like she never even stopped. Your hands slide back from her hips to her ass, spreading her cheeks gently until you can see the way that every inch of the toy gets swallowed by Ona’s pussy, only to emerge even shinier each time she lifts herself upwards.

And fuck, maybe you’ve actually deprived Lucy of the best view.

But there are no complaints from Lucy, only praise.

“Fucking hell, babe. You’re unreal. So fucking hot.”

Your eyes flit across to Lucy, first to her face, then to the hand between her own legs. Though she still wears her underwear, she’s at least given up on whatever shred of pride she was still trying to cling onto, hand hidden beneath the fabric where you can visibly see her rubbing herself in time with Ona’s rhythm on your cock.

The power of it all is dizzying.

You’ve still barely wrapped your head around the fact that you get to have Ona like this, and she’s practically been throwing herself at you since Lucy‘s earlier admission that Ona has been craving you for a while. Though Lucy isn’t giving herself to you in the same way that Ona is, this still feels like something of a submission to you, touching herself to the sight of you fucking her girlfriend.

Even more determined to make it worth Lucy‘s while, or perhaps simply with a point to prove, there’s nothing else to do except double down until Ona is coming on your cock.

You try to manoeuvre Ona on top of you, pulling her backwards until she’s left with no choice but unfold her legs from beneath her. The toy slips out of her in the process, though not for long because you reach your hand down between you and guide it back to her entrance with ease.

The new position gives you more control over the pace. With Ona now almost lying on top of you, back against your front with her weight supported on her own arms, you plant your feet on the mattress and rut up into her.

“Fuck!” Ona cries out, before repeating the sentiment in Spanish.

The sensory overload is almost too much. Having Ona on top of you gives you nowhere to go but up into her, and each rough thrust presses the base of the harness against your clit. You can’t remember ever being able to come directly from just wearing the strap before but you can feel it building. The sounds Ona is making, the feeling of her skin against yours, the memory of her falling apart on your fingers earlier. Not to mention the fact that it’s simply Ona, who you’ve spent months trying not to pine over, only to end up here, fucking her with a strap while her girlfriend watches on.

The whole thing is just so much more than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“Yes, Ona,“ Lucy growls from the corner of the room. “Let her use you. Always such a pretty little plaything, aren’t you?”

Your eyes turn to Lucy. Her fingers still work between her legs, hips now bucking up against her hand in time with your thrusts. The thought that you might be able to get her off without even touching her only spurs you on.

Your hips rut the toy up into Ona at a punishing pace and she lets out another ungodly cry.

“Dios mio.”

Banding your arms around Ona’s middle, you send one south to play with her clit as you continue to thrust into her from below.

Propped up on her arms, Ona’s head falls backward as her back arches. The position puts her in an ideal position for you to lean up and murmur in her ear, “You gonna come for me?”

“Close,” Ona gasps.

“Yes,” you hiss. “I want you to come.”

You can feel yourself hurtling towards your own orgasm but you really want Ona to come first.

It gets harder to fuck into her, the slight resistance as the incoming orgasm has her tightening around the toy, not to mention your own pleasure building and the tiring of your hips, but just a few more thrusts and Ona is falling apart. Her hips jerk against the hand on her clit, her entire body writhes on top of yours, the sounds that ripples from her throat seem to echo around the room, and the whole thing has you following her into your own climax in a matter of seconds.

It washes through you, slowly at first as you teeter over the precipice, then all at once, spreading right through to the fingers that twitch against Ona’s clit and the toes that curl into the mattress beneath your feet. You cling to Ona like she’s a lifebuoy stopping you from drowning in the pleasure of it all, your hips jerking up into hers where you’re still connected through the toy, face buried into the side of her neck as the intensity finally bleeds away.

On top of you, Ona is still now too, except for the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath.

“Holy shit,” you murmur into Ona’s neck, pressing your lips to the place where her pulse flutters beneath the corner of her jaw. “That was … well, fuck.”

Given the intensity of the orgasm that you can still feel the aftershocks of, you’re surprised you manage to be even that coherent.

Ona pushes her weight up on her arms and carefully lifts herself off the toy, letting out one final whimper as it slides free, before she twists herself onto her front and lies on top of you, chest to chest. You wrap your arms around her, sweaty and sated as your hearts beat almost in unison, and press a litany of barely there kisses to the messy tendrils of her hairline.

You could fall asleep like this, maybe you actually would, if not for the way that the mattress dips at the end of the bed, reminding you of Lucy’s presence.

Ona nuzzles her face into your neck, pressing her lips to a spot that’s sensitive enough to send a reminiscent tremor through your body, then slowly disentangles her body from yours. She looks down at you, still oh so fucking pretty with her dark eyes and pink cheeks, teeth digging into kiss-swollen lips as she asks, “Okay?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Fuck, Ona. I’m way more than just okay.”

It’s Ona’s turn to chuckle, a familiar low rumble from her chest. She leans down to kiss you, first a gentle peck, then something long and lingering before she finally withdraws and shuffles across the bed to reunite with Lucy.

Lucy knees her way closer to Ona until she can cradle her girlfriend’s jaw in her hands, tucking a loose strand of hair that’s escaped from Ona’s bun behind her ear. The expression on her face is one of affection mixed with pride and you watch for a few seconds as Ona leans her cheek into Lucy’s hand, before you have to look away. They must both know that you’re still there and not care, but it feels like a moment that’s too intimate for witnesses.

Your head falls back against the pillow, and you focus on steadying the in and out of your breathing while listening to the gentle sounds of their reunion. You hear a soft sigh, one which you can now recognise easily as Ona’s, then the unmistakeable wet sounds of a slow kiss. After a few moments, it stops, then Lucy’s low voice cuts through the stillness.

“My beautiful girl,” Lucy murmurs. “You always look so pretty when you come. But that was something else, wow.”

Ona speaks up, “Did you…?” She trails off and you can hear the uncertainty, asking the question you don’t know the answer to either.

“Yeah,” Lucy replies, the pride audible in her voice. “Course I did. You looked so good with her.”

Your eyes flutter open at this and your ego swells with the admission. You’d been so caught up in the other two orgasms in the room that you missed Lucy’s entirely. She was never the kind of girl to come dramatically, usually reaching her peak much more physically than verbally, with shaking thighs and a tight hand in your hair. And though you’re a little sad that this one went by completely unnoticed by both you and Ona, you’re also pretty sure that the night is far from over and there’ll be time to rectify that.

Something which gets confirmed by Lucy just seconds later, when her attention shifts from Ona to where you’re sprawled on the bed.

“Now, what am I going to do with you?” she asks, eyes raking up and down your body, naked except for the harness.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and gesture at the toy that still stands proudly from your hips.

“Ona’s warmed it up for you. If you want.”

You already know that the chances of Lucy agreeing to your suggestion are close to zero before you even say it aloud, but you can’t help yourself. You’re still running high on endorphins. Besides, you’ve probably earned the right to be somewhat cocky after the show you’ve just put on with Ona.

Lucy’s eyes drop to the dildo, still wet with Ona’s slick.

“Take it off.”

In what you know may be one final act of defiance before Lucy truly takes control, you challenge her by replying, “Take it off me yourself.”

[touchyluffy]

just as confidently as luffy says you'll join his crew, and you say you won't but ultimately give into his charm and kindness, is as confidently he says he'll marry you one day.

it's a beautiful, hot day aboard the Sunny, the crew is eating a meal, you're devouring your lunch in an ugly fashion. after luffy had gotten you all into a fight that morning, you're starving. suddenly, luffy starts to laugh cheerfully beside you. he pats you on the back, the bone of a steak still sticking out of his mouth. "i want to eat our food alone- just with you sometime- what's that called again," he pauses, rubbing his chin with his free hand, "oh yeah! a date!" the room goes quiet and your face heats up red. luffy goes back to eating but your appetite had suddenly disappeared, your hunger wanting something new now.

another time you and luffy had been separated from the crew, fighting back-to-back against foe pirates, he gum-gum whips the apposing crew and you land a few knock out punches against the ones who managed to duck. luffy wraps his arm around your shoulder and throws his head back, laughing delightfully, you couldn't help but smile despite your predicament, he says, "this is it! we're on our date! isn't this fun?!" he snickers, as a few of the foes stand up their guns barred, luffy glances upwards, "c'mon lets go to that mountain!" his arm stretches to grab hold of a tree, catapulting you two up to higher ground. you end up falling on him, unhurt. luffy was underneath you, his head in the dirt, you had to pull him out. in his teeth were some crumbled up yellow flowers that he must've fallen on, he held them out to you with a charming grin, "here! for you!" you kept those destroyed flowers, nursing them back to health, repotting them to keep them at your bedside table. every night as you smiled at the flowers, your last thought before falling asleep was him and every morning your first thought was him.

a few unconventional but memorable dates later, the crew had landed on an island you had been shopping all day. as you emerged from latest store, bags covering your arms, you spot luffy at the end of the road, you yell out to him and he turns to you, and the way the sun is shining behind his head, the way he smiles at you, it makes your knees weak. you'd never noticed how beautiful he is. he runs towards you with his boyish excitement, waving at you and you notice a small box in his hand. he screams your name, "i've been looking for you forever! have you been shopping? whad'ja get!" he rattles off as he stops in front of you, you just smile at him, admiring his handsome features. "what's wrong?" he asks. you can't help it, you cup his cheek rubbing a thumb along his warm skin, luffy pauses, speechlessly staring at you. and the way his eyes shine, looking at you with such adoration, it makes your heat flutter, and you notice his hands are cupping your cheeks too. the little box in his hand poking your skin. you pull his face towards you and peck his lips and his whole body stops, you don't even think he's breathing, he just stands there and lets you kiss him. after a few glorious seconds, you pull away to ask if he's okay but he just pulls you back, "again-again please" he whispers. and you kiss again. opening your mouth, your tongues meeting, you'd never been this hot before and you never wanted it to end, but the box was really starting to pinch your skin now. you pull away and he chases your lips, "luffy" you say your voice coming out hoarse, "what is this?" he blinks and seems to remember, "oh yeah! i got it at that little shop down there and i've been looking for you everywhere to give it to you!" he says excitedly opening the lid, he passes it to you, your bodies still close together, you have to crane your neck awkwardly because luffy won't let you go far. inside the box is a silver bracelet, the clasp is a heart, it shines back at you and you feel tears welling up and he panics. you hush him, "luffy, thank you. it's beautiful." he smiles widely, "let me put it on you!" you keep that bracelet on morning and night, it becomes your treasure.

now you're the happiest you've ever been. you thought you were happy before this relationship - is that what you were calling it? - started but now every day you woke up giddy, your yellow flowers sprouting new buds, jumping out of bed as you ran to meet luffy on the deck of the ship, he opens his arms for you and twirls you around, you both laugh as he pulls you in for a kiss. the heart bracelet you wore shining in the sun. the rest of the crew looks on fondly, some turn their heads as you two embrace, others applaud, Brook cries that it should've been him. as you and luffy walk hand-in-hand towards the rest of them, the crew starts preparing the Sunny for another day at sea, and luffy glances over at you as your untying ropes, "i'm going to marry you someday", you pause and so does the rest of the crew, the ship goes silent, you say dumbfounded, "what? what did you say?" luffy smiles, always so confident, he repeats himself, "i'm going to marry you someday." you stare at him, your face heating up red, your heart hammering, the rest of the crew is waiting for what you have to say, what are you going to say? you'd never known luffy to want to get married. in fact, he'd told you matter-of-factly one day that he had rejected the snake princess several proposals to him. you were still staring at him, but luffy had gone back to work, he had just said it-as if it was as easy as breathing for him to say. maybe it was. "only after we find the one piece" you find yourself saying and he turns his head towards you, smiling earnestly, "deal" he says and pulls you in for a kiss. the rest of the crew has their jaws on the floor, but luffy just walks away laughing, pulling you along with him, he takes favorite spot at the front of the ship, you in his lap, and you panic at first, but he just grins, "i got you" you calm down, knowing he won't let you fall. knowing he was there, always and forever.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; after being struck by a peacekeeper, coryo puts aside his differences to clean you up.

pairing ; coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; pls coryo may be a little ooc in this but i tried. ok? i tried! physical violence, mentions of blood and death, as well as the events that take place in the hunger games universe, spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

the blow sent a stinging sensation through your cheek, the level of force behind it knocking you to the ground on impact. you had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit in the face – if you would be able to take it – and well, now you knew.

you sat there on the ground, a spectacle among the crowd, and all because you were helping an elderly lady and unknowingly stepped into the peacekeeper’s way. you didn’t mean to, and before you knew it his leather glove was colliding with the side of your face. 

you loathed the peacekeepers, everyone did, but specifically the way they thought they could belittle you and your people just because of their job title. and yet, it terrified you to know how harsh they were over something so small, you couldn’t even begin to think how torturous they could be behind closed doors. 

once the peacekeepers move on, laughing among themselves at what they had done to you, a man and his wife help you to your feet, and you dust yourself off. your palms burned from the rubble you had landed on, small rocks sticking into your skin, and your head was ringing, but nothing compared to the side of your face. 

you were tough, there was no doubt about it, but having the peacekeeper’s hand collide with your face with such force had you a little shaken up. 

“i’m okay, everyone,” you let the group of onlookers, and those that had helped you, know. with a faux smile and a reassuring nod, you quickly return to helping the woman pick up her belongings that had been knocked over in the midst of it all. 

“oh, don’t worry about me, dear. go take care of yourself,” she gestures to your face and your hand instinctively reaches to feel the wet cut that had formed on your lip. a small speckle of blood now on your fingers as a metallic taste fills your senses. it ached to touch, and if it looked bad now, you could only imagine how bad it was going to be later. 

you take your leave from the woman and make your way home along the seam. the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds as the sound of the town drowns out behind you and into the distance. people watched as you passed them by, noticing the blood on your face and probably wondering what had happened. 

you didn’t mind the stares, not much happened in the district, and it wasn't as if you had anything to be ashamed of. well, not that anyone knew of anyway. 

you eventually make it to the last stretch of the dirt path before your house when your name gets called out, stopping you in your tracks, and in the direction it had come from were a couple more peacekeepers. though, these ones didn’t instil fear in you the same way the others had. 

they were familiar faces – faces that you were somewhat glad to see – however, you weren’t sure how they were going to react seeing the new feature that had been ever so kindly bestowed upon your face. 

sejanus waves you over, tapping his partner on the shoulder once he notices, and gestures towards you. coriolanus stands beside him, turning your way after seeing the panicked look on his friend's face, and his smile drops the second he sees the cut on your lip and the bruise that had already begun to form. 

“y/n…” he speaks your name delicately, a forbidden whisper, before rapidly scanning your surroundings to make sure the area was safe. it was. “what happened?”

he wants to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and kiss you better, anything he can to make sure you were okay, but he can’t. he knows that. it would be too much of a risk in such an open space and he wasn’t going to be the reason you end up with another bruise, or worse. so he quickly fixes his posture and positions his gun against his shoulder where it was meant to be. 

“oh, this? it’s nothing,” you wave them off, even adding a wink to further convince them that you were fine.

sejanus smiles, even stifles a laugh at your nonchalant attitude, but not coriolanus. no. he could see right through the smile you were presenting them with. how could he not? he had spent far too much time staring at you, his lover, whether it be from across the town square, or beside you in your bed. he knew every which way your face contorted and exactly what it meant. 

he could see you were in pain. 

his jaw tightens at this, fighting the urge to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder so that he could take you home. it was one thing to have to watch the horrors and physical brutality that went on in the district every day, most of which he had become numb to, but seeing you be the victim of it filled him with not only rage, but fear. 

he wanted – no, needed – you to be safe. 

“is there anything we can do?” sejanus offers. “anything we can get you?”

“don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine,” you smile once again, though this time, coriolanus refuses to sit by and watch you lie. 

“can you cover for me?” he asks, though you know it’s meant for sejanus, who instantly nods at the request, further proving his loyalty to his friend. “go home and wait for me. i won’t be long, just don’t touch it.”

while you wanted nothing more than for coriolanus to follow you home, you knew he couldn’t. it wasn’t safe, not while the sun was still out, “no, i’m fine. i promise.”

“just do what i say, okay?” his eyes bore into you now, an urgency in them as his protective side comes into play, and you knew there was no point trying to argue with him when he got like this. 

you nod, begrudgingly, and lazily salute the pair before continuing on down the path to your house. it was only a little ways away from where the boys had spotted you, but the second you see the chipping wood and beaten down stairs that you called ‘home’, you’re overcome with relief. 

upon entering you immediately splay yourself down on the sofa — one of the few pieces of furniture you still owned after your parents — and wait, just like coriolanus had asked you. your head had stopped ringing a little, but the throbbing pain in your cheek was still there. nonetheless, you knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight come morning. 

minutes pass, twenty-seven to be exact, before you hear shuffling at your back window, followed by heavy footsteps. you knew it was coriolanus. he regularly came through the back of the house so as not to be seen by your neighbours, but like you always tell him, barely anyone bothered to come down your way. 

the second his face comes into view, you let off a weak smile, more so as he begins to remove his uniform, placing it down on the table in the corner of the room, alongside his gun, “i don’t have long. sejanus is covering for me, but even he knows it won’t be long before they start wondering where i am.”

“you really didn’t have to come. i told you, i’m fine,” you sit up now as coriolanus meets your side with a small package in his hand. 

the look in his eyes shifts as he gets a closer inspection of the damage that had been done to your face, a heavy breath falling from his lips. coriolanus believed people deserved to be punished for the things they did, but not you – never you. you were his girl, his flower, his love – and he had been doing everything in his power to make sure you were safe. 

he knew it wasn’t his fault what had happened earlier, but he still couldn’t help but feel somewhat to blame. he should’ve been there to stop the situation, de-escalate it in any way that he could. he had been doing everything in his power to keep you off the other peacekeeper’s radars, away from any potential danger, and selfishly, away from him ever losing you. 

you watch as the stiffness in his jaw goes slack and his shoulders slump a little, eyes downturing as his lips push out into a pout ever so slightly. you reach for his hand, “coryo, what’s wrong?”

“i just… i don’t like to see you hurt,” he pulls his gaze away from you now, wanting to avoid thinking about it, and begins to unwrap the small package in his hand to reveal a mini first-aid kit. “i grabbed what i could without anyone seeing me, though i doubt you’ll need most of it.” 

you watch as he gathers a small cloth, coated with a disinfectant solution and gently dabs at the cut on your lower lip. it stings a little but you didn’t mind, you’d do just about anything to get a moment alone with coriolanus. perhaps getting hit in the face wasn’t all bad, at least the outcome of it anyway. 

once the cut was cleaned, he pulls out a small bandage and presses it across your lip. you weren’t sure you really needed it but it felt nice to be looked after. as for the bruise, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. 

“how does it look?” you sigh, and he reaches up to gently brush the tender skin. 

“it looks… like it needs something,”

“and what’s that?” coryo’s lips quirk up into a roguish grin before he slowly leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek. it’s soft and sweet, and gentle. all of the things coryo was when it was just the two of you alone. “you know what? i think you might be onto something.”

coryo’s laughter reverberates through his entire body, looking at you with glistening eyes, but he gives in, pressing another kiss to your lips, and what starts as a light brush of your lips on his becomes much more when you find yourself pushing him backwards on the sofa. he doesn’t protest and lets himself fall into the cushion behind him as you situate yourself on his lap. there’s no hesitation when his hands cup your thighs, running small comforting circles into your skin. 

you stay like that for a few moments, small trickles of laughter escaping you both as you continue to kiss before you evidently decide to curl yourself up into him. you nuzzle your head into his chest, one leg still draped across his as the other burrows in next to him and instinctively his hand searches for yours - fingers idly grazing one another before he threads his through to hold you. 

“so, what’s the verdict doc? will i make it?” you smile. 

“as long as i have anything to do with it,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but you can’t help but feel like there was another meaning to his words. 

[heldbykento]

⊹₊ ⋆ ㅤ— “FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE . .ᐟᅟ ”

part 1 | part 2

wrd count: 1304

warnings: smut, fem!reader x josh, dry-humping, drinking, josh is a pervert, semi-plot, make out, drunk reader, smutty indications, aggressive teasing

a/n : my bi-monthly drop!!!! wrote this for my dear friend adri, and me :3 but also because i just finished until dawn and this sexy man is EVERYWHERE… will be writing more of him soon. stay tuned ! ;)

you knew your limits when it came to alcohol, what you could handle and what you couldn’t.

but joshua washington had to be the world's best sweet talker. because you’d convinced everyone at the lodge you’d be the most sober.

now you were the only one slurring out a random song with an empty bottle of expensive vodka wrapped around your perfectly jeweled up and manicured hand.

“jooooosssshhhhh…” you slurred to him, clinging onto his bicep that felt oddly larger than usual. all he could do was give that signature sexy laugh and shake his head at you.

he was gentle with you, still obviously teasing but not to an extent.

the boy knew you weren’t 100% yourself when you got this drunk.

“mhm, that’s my name.” he said to you, the two of you weren’t necessarily separated from the group, but you weren’t close enough to be in their conversations.

that was always the case when the two of you were together.

but to him, close was never close enough.

you were rubbing your face all on his flannel, cheek chubbying up and only looking up at him through your eyelids.

eyes big and full of drunken content.

to him, you were just so pretty vulnerable.

the way he was looking down at you was almost straight out of a cheap porno.

his wide eyes, now low and full of an extreme emotion that your weak brain couldn’t understand.

but you had an idea that it was what you were wearing, not to toot your own horn.

soft layers: a tight white tank top stacked with a hot pink zip-up that had fur on the hood and graphics on the back, your tight denim shorts and fleece tights that were meant to keep you warm, but anyone with a right mind knew they were just for show.

technically… you had packed more outfits like this for the trip, but that’s because you weren’t expecting the cabin to be so bitterly cold.

so it wasn’t really even your fault.

in reality, you were dressing this way on purpose.

okay maybe you were dressed like this because you loved the attention.

the peering looks he gave you anytime you walked by, the snarky comments that left his perfect mouth.

who were you to blame? look at that man.

“feelin’ clingy tonight, huh?” he taunted, laughing in your face at the way you were holding onto him and gawking.

“me—? clingy? y’r funny, washington…” all you could do was stutter and stumble on your words.

he made you nervous and you were so intoxicated you could barely think before speaking.

holding him like this made you imagine all the possibilities. all the things you could be doing to each other right now.

and it almost felt like he was thinking the same, like you were always riding on the same wavelength.

you know something else you could ride on.

it was stupid to imagine but there’s always been a tension between you two, so thick and palpable that it left you knees-weak every time he flirted with you.

“let’s just cut the bullshit. c’mon.” before you could even process that he was talking to you, a rough set of calluses were wrapped around your forearm, tugging you somewhere in the lodge that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

the second you heard a door close behind you two, you realized you were in the master bedroom,

only knowing this due to the sudden change of temperature in the room compared to the living room.

“wha- aren’t they gonna n— notice that we’re gone?” you were confused, but you trusted him.

despite the evident look of hunger and lust in his eyes. you trusted yourself in his hands.

“i don’t care. i just needed to get you alone.” his mouth made its way to your ear, slowly, as his warm breath came to touch with your skin,

your body froze up at the sudden attention, making you feel warm. “y/n. almost years i’ve been fantasizing about you, ever since we met,” he paused and cautiously reached for your hips.

his hands were warm and you felt safe, once you processed his words you became putty in them.

“huh?”

was all you could mutter out, keeping yourself in place by grabbing onto his triceps, looking up at him through your full and wispy eyelashes.

“i’m sayin’ i wanna fuck you, pornstar. your skin is so soft and warm. i wanna know,” he paused to straighten himself up and look at you.

“i wanna know what it feels like inside that pussy of yours.”

drunk, he was drunk this had to be the drinks talking. there was no way this was real.

even if he was intoxicated, that didn’t stop his words from going straight in between your legs. arousal pooling onto your lacy panties.

could’ve sworn your eyes started to roll back at the dirty talk, he was so good at it too.

“y’don’t mean that—“ he quickly cut you off, pulling you in nice and personal and grabbing at the plush skin that was covered by tight denim. “i do. with every fiber in me, i swear i do.”

the physical attention was overwhelming, and the verbal one was even more intense. you didn’t know what else to do but to give in to something you’ve been praying for for so long.

you couldn’t even suck in a breath before he was crashing his lips onto yours.

it was a kiss that made you dizzy, you melted into it though, wrapping yourself onto him.

he led you backwards, kissing you still while he was walking, pressing your back against whatever wall was close; stabilizing you with his knee between your legs.

you were holding onto the hair on the back of his head for dear life, loving the hot and messy kiss so much that it turned you on.

all the sexual frustration of not getting any in almost a year turned you into some horn dog.

your head was spinning, you could barely make out a thought. josh’s hand began to unzip your jacket, sliding it off your body while his lips started roaming down your neck.

“i ca— can’t take it,” a whine slipped out of your lips, head turned to face away from him to hide away your embarrassment.

this didn’t stop him though, you felt him smile against your skin and only itch on more.

rutting your hips for you against his clothed leg while he started sucking ravishingly against your neck, josh himself could barely keep himself from grinning at how much he’s won.

josh was the type for messy and quick sex. but when he thinks of having it with you, he wants it hard and slow.

painfully slow. so he can make you take in everything, make you feel everything all at once.

his fingers started sliding off the straps of your tight shirt, lips starting to make contact with the plush skin of your breasts.

“so fuckin’ sexy. just like i imagined. you g’nna let me give it to you? hm?” he was teasing, words muffled by the way he had his lips wrapped around your nipple.

“god i can’t wait to fill you up. gonna tell chris how good this pussy is.” josh snickered, grinning at the mess he was making of you.

and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

he brought himself up to bite on your ear, hands teasing your breasts as your hips (which had minds of their own) kept grinding on his knee, the friction making your brain go into mush.

your mind was completely blown, blank and empty.

fingers were digging and wrinkling up his flannel as your mouth was agape.

you were all hot and bothered, needing and yearning for more.

if you felt this good only from foreplay, imagine how good being so full of his dick was gonna be.

you couldn’t wait.

you were letting out noises you didn’t even know you could make,

and he was barely getting started.

[endlessthxxghts]

For Your Safety

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 1.8k

Summary: Your bladder forces you to disrupt your make out session with your boyfriend. Joel seeks out a different way to relieve you.

Content warnings: Reader has female sex anatomy and has slight implied feminine descriptors. Feminine pet names (baby, mama). Pussy has pronouns (she/her), but reader directly does not. Joel carries reader once. Established relationship. 18+ MDNI!! Porn with very minimal plot. BDSM play/undertones. Exploring new kinks. Slight discomfort/reluctancy (implied safe words in place - Joel will stop if you say the safe words). P in V unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Piss kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author's note: I'M BACK, MY LOVES!!! I'VE MISSED YOU! I've got several things coming your guys' way, but I just wrote this little thing to get my juices (figuratively and literally) flowing again hehehe. Thank you @strang3lov3 for being my second pair of eyes on this little baby and for making this beautiful, perfect fucking moodboard, I appreciate you so much🩶 I hope you guys enjoy xx

masterlist | notifs blog

“Mm, baby, wait,” you mutter, breaking away from the puffy lips of the insatiable man underneath you. 

“You okay?” He breathes into your mouth, a frown already forming that your lips aren’t on his anymore. 

With a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Yes, I’m okay, I just really need to pee.”

Lifting off of his lap, you begin to turn away before Joel’s pawing at your wrist. “Wait.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t go pee yet.”

“Joel,” you giggle. “I’ll literally be two seconds, I know that boner isn’t going away anytime soon.”

“No- I mean…” he trails off. He sits up, his hands finding their way back to your waist. Your body easily begins to give in. 

“Baby,” you lightly scold.

“You trust me?” His gaze never breaks from yours. 

“Always,” you reply immediately. 

Without missing a beat: “Then sit on me.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. 

Without further explanation, his fingers find the hem of your bottoms. He gives you a chance to tell him to stop, but when you never take that chance, he lets your clothing fall into a little pile on your living room floor. He pulls away for a moment after, shedding himself of his belt and jeans, letting his clothes join yours. 

Your heart jumps at the sight of him—his entire length on display, tip red and leaking, eyes blackened with hunger as he devours you with his eyes alone. “Baby,” you whimper, “I swear to God, if I get aroused any further I will not be able to control my fucking bladder—”

A smirk begins to form across his face.

Oh. 

The way Joel’s eyes gloss over as you finally piece it together has your body shuddering. He didn’t say not to pee. He just said not to pee yet. 

“C’mere, baby,” he drawls lazily. His hands are reaching out for you, guiding you to straddle him once more. 

Settling into his lap, Joel wastes no time guiding his length to you, your previous makeout session and the proposition of what’s about to happen providing you already with an ample amount of slick for him to work with. 

The second he fixes merely the head of him in your entrance, a pleasurable flutter erupts through you, starting in your lower belly, shooting up your spine. A breathy yelp of a fuck escapes your throat at the sensation, the feeling of your bladder intensifying tenfold. 

“Joel,” you whine, eyes clamping shut as your hips meet his own, his grip tight and unrelenting. “It- it h-hurts…” you trail off, gasping when he begins moving you back and forth, grinding you against him. 

“It hurts?” He asks, slowing but not to a halt. 

So good, you think, it hurts so fucking good. But already, you’re too turned on and blissed out for any coherent thought to form. Instead, your hands find his chest, using the newfound stability to grind down even harder onto him, whimpers and murmured curses in breathy exhales make his chest—and cock—swell with pride. 

He’s been meaning to tell you about this secret little fantasy he’s had for a while. Joel has never had a piss kink or anything before, but after that time he made you squirt and you literally sprayed him everywhere from his mouth down? Oh, he needed more—needed to feel it happen around him—and he needed it badly. He just wasn’t sure how you’d react. 

Sure, you’re both more explorative in the bedroom than most people, but anything involving pee has always been on the more extreme side. He didn’t want to scare you away—as if you could ever, you’d probably tell him. And he could just make you squirt again, but where’s the fun in that? The fun in making every part of you lose control from him and him alone? 

And now here you are, providing him with the perfect opportunity to show rather than tell you about his fantasies. 

“Oh, my poor baby, ” he taunts, the worry of you being in actual pain dissipating immediately. “Hurts so bad because she need’a cum, huh? That it, baby?” 

His chest is heaving with how fucking good you feel, tight and warm and utterly fucking soaked. It is taking absolutely everything within him to not cum inside you at this very moment, but he needs you to get there first. He’s determined.

With your hips finding a steady, needy rhythm, you nod your head rapidly—thighs shaking, nails stabbing through the fabric of his green flannel. “Please, bab— oh my god,” you groan out as he brings his fingers in between where you two meet, the added pleasure forcing the familiar muscle in your belly to clench, your pussy fluttering out of her mind around him. 

“Oh my god, oh fuck—” you cry. A sense of rationale floods your brain, allowing you a moment to slur something decently audible. “Joel, the couch,” you pant. “I’m gonna— it’s gonna get dirty, baby, please, I can’t—”

Your hips are still driving eagerly despite your spoken protests, and Joel is just having way too much fun with this. “Never had a problem fuckin’ on the couch before, baby, what’s the difference now?” He asks with a grunt, the corner of his mouth upturned. 

“Joel,” you try to bite, but your venom is useless when he has you like this, on the verge of forcing your body into the astral plane with no say in the matter. Still, you try once more. “Joel, I— I’m gonna fucking—” a moan forces itself out, choking you on your words. “Fuck, please, I’m gonna fucking pee, baby, please, I can’t hold it,” you beg, tears pooling into your lash line, the pleasure nearing the territory of overstimulation. 

Joel contemplates. He seriously has no problems deep cleaning the couch later, but your discomfort is more important. If you don’t want to dirty the couch, then you two aren’t going to dirty the couch. 

“Hold tight,” he tells you, and you do despite your face’s confusion. His arms hold you snug against him, and he stands with you on him—with him in you—and makes a beeline for the bathroom. 

“Oh, fuck,” you groan as he walks, the tinge of sex already sticking to the creases of his neck. Each step causes your belly to flutter, bringing you closer and closer to release—closer to releasing your bladder all over the damn house. “Baby, please,” you gasp, your nails digging into the back of his head as you try to hold off on letting go. 

Joel kicks the door open, uncaring in the slightest sound of a crack that should make the contractor in him jump, but it doesn’t phase him. He’s got other priorities.

The main bathroom of your guys’ house has a walk-in shower, and a few months ago, he installed some railings against each of the walls. He may have had ulterior motives, but he was adamant that it was for your safety, baby. 

Smirking to himself at the thought, he steps inside, settling your ass against the wall, perching you against the cold metal for some added support. His arms snake down your body, and he hooks himself underneath the bend of your knees. Gripping onto the rail, he renders you entirely immobile, and immediately, he’s on a mission. 

He pulls out, the tip threatening to slip from your heat, but before you know it, he’s slamming into you, the sheer force of your man stealing all the breath from your lungs. 

“Joel—” you scream out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you moan and gasp for air. 

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Huh?”

“Y-yeah, fuck— I’m gonna—”

“Gonna pee, too, mama? Gonna fuckin’ make a mess ‘a me? I can feel you, baby, feel her fuckin’ grippin’ me,” he snarls, eyes laser focused on his cream-coated, glistening cock as he pierces you over and over again. “Let go f’me, baby, c’mon, I gotcha,” his voice coos, albeit a little muffled to your ears as you finally give in to your body’s desires, your body’s needs. 

Your head thumps against the shower wall as your eyes clamp shut, sweet wails of ecstasy reverberating in the tiny-tiled room. Not only does Joel feel warmth and thick wetness along the length of him, but he feels running hot liquid stream down the front of his body, his legs. Fuck. 

The steady stream he hears and feels is what finally brings himself to his edge, his cock twitching and pulsing, painting every single inch inside you. His movement comes to a reluctant stop, slowly taking away each arm from your leg to let you stand on your own.

“Can you stand?” he asks. 

“Are you kidding me?” you murmur with a weak laugh. “I had these rails installed a bit ago… for my safety,” you smirk, exaggerating the way you hold onto the pipes. “I’ll be fine.”

He jokingly rolls his eyes at you before he leans forward, kissing you on the forehead. “I’m sorry I kind of cornered ya with this one,” he mutters softly. 

“No, baby, no apologies. You would’ve stopped if I said, but it doesn’t matter anyway because I… I really liked it,” you admit, cheeks hotter than a bonfire. 

“Oh,” he says, his cheeks threatening a dopey expression. 

“Just—”

“Yeah?” He cuts off eagerly.

“Just not in places where we’d have people, okay?”

“Deal,” he smirks, catching your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. 

Let’s rinse off,” you squeak into his mouth. You’re fucking exhausted after everything, but you can feel your insatiable body getting worked up yet again with the way his mouth is on you. 

“Yeah, alright,” he pulls away, smacking your ass in the process before turning the shower nozzle to the preferred temperature. Not your preferred temperature—the temperature that his soft, precious, sensitive skin could handle. You test the water underneath your fingertips, laughing to yourself at how cold it is. 

“Oh, also.”

“What’s up?” you ask, prepping the loofah with the vanilla body wash you know he loves but will never admit. 

“Do we have gatorade? Or like, Smartwater or somethin’? Somethin’ with those hydration things— what are they called? Electrolytes?”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I jus’ wanna make sure you’re hydrated. At all times. It’s important to stay hydrated, y’know?”

You look him up and down, calculating your thoughts before you respond. “We can go to the store after this,” you offer. 

“Yeah? Okay,” he leans forward to drop another kiss to your lips. “You know how much your health means to me,” he adds. 

“I thought it was my safety,” you say pointing to one out of the many “safety” modifications he’s added to your shared home. 

“Your health, too, mama. Especially your hydration, hm?” 

“Right,” you say with an exaggerated lilt. “Now turn around so I can scrub your ass.”

Extended note:

I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics

[crypticminx]

No thoughts just daddy felix x reader 🎀

Being spoiled by Felix, PDA, p in v, Daddy kink, lots of name calling, slight dom Felix?? <33

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Felix Catton loves to take care of people. He’s kind, caring and always welcoming to those he allows into his life. After all, everyone knows that he’s a total sweetheart. However, his heart belongs to you.

For you, his special girl, he takes care of you differently. Spoiling you nonstop with luxurious outings, dresses than can make any other man’s bank account cry, large bouquets of exquisite roses—anything you could ever desire, he grants you. He adores pampering you, treating you like the princess you are.

And he’s courteous with his gifts, everything he hands to you is tucked away in a fancy box that that’s wrapped with pretty pink bows and a lovely handwritten card that reads “for my pretty little baby.”

When he’s away from you, he constantly checks up on you, he can’t bare to go without hearing the softness of your voice assuring him that everything is okay.

never going a second without making sure his beloved is well accounted for.

“How’s my sweet girl,” he’ll coo on the other end of the line, hearing you giggle, knowing that he’s making your face turn pink with blooming emotions. “Want me to send you anything, baby?”

And when the two of you are together, he always holds your hand. You clench it tight, fingers intertwining with one another as you dash hand in hand. His tall frame practically shields you away from anything because he loves to protect you just as he loves showing you off.

When you’re out in public, he doesn’t care about modesty—it’s rather the last thing that’s on his hot and bothered mind when has you sitting all pretty near him. he needs everyone to know that you’re his and that he’s the luckiest man to have you.

You’ll sit on his lap as he wraps his affectionate arms around your waist, pulling you into the depths of his chest as he smothers your smooth cheek with kisses. He loves having you so close to his body, the flowery aroma of your perfume makes his heart tingle and the softness of your hair that rests under his chin is almost ticklish.

“Such a pretty baby you are,” he says in between all his pecks as you smile from all the glee you can’t wipe from your smitten face. Of course, there’s people staring at the two of you, but it’s clear they’re jealous. Every other girl would die to have Felix Catton lovestruck for them.

Even the damn cigarette that dangles in your mouth gets lit by him and once you’ve inhaled enough nicotine for the time being, he always finishes it off before tossing it to the ground.

Being in the bedroom was a completely different story.

Often carrying you to his bedroom—the one that included a bed that was dying to have you fucked on, your dress from dinner nearly slipping off as Felix held you in his strong arms. His doe eyes practically turned into hearts, seeing how radiantly gorgeous you looked—his mouth was watering from a lustful type of hunger.

“Does my sweet girl wanna get fucked by daddy tonight? Hm?” You bite your tongue, finding no strength as you could feel your body grow limp. Knees turning weak, panties soaked like no tomorrow—you both knew the answer to that question. Simply nodding your head, batting your mascara coated lashes as your eyes twinkle, letting Felix know that was your way of saying yes.

Your fitted dress thrown to floor as he undresses himself, his perfectly toned body makes you flush as if it’s the first time laying eyes on his stunning figure. He throws you on the bed like a doll, pouncing on top of you as his fingers curl inside your wet, aching cunt. He hastily circles them in your inner walls, letting his fingers become immensely damp as he can’t get enough of seeing how wet he gets you.

He grins, taking his two fingers out of you, licking them in his salivating mouth before he looks down at your elated expression. “My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he inches himself in order for his cock to enter you, “always so wet for daddy.”

You whimper, feeling the pressure of his full length inside of you makes you ache with sensual pleasure. He lets out a hoarse groan, thrusting himself as he lets your pussy coat his cock.

“Yes daddy,” you squeak, finding it way too challenging to speak when he’s got you all riled up in the heat of the moment.

The bed creaks like no tomorrow, you’re practically bouncing up and down like you’re weightless when he’s got you pinned deep into the confines of the sheets. Your eyes fighting the urge to roll back as he hits every right spot.

“My perfect little girl,” he notes as he practically dwarfs you in comparison to size, he’s so big—in more ways than one—and the two of fit perfectly during your ravenous intercourse. It’s almost humorous.

“Mmm, daddy, m’gonna cum,” you can’t stop the sensitive pangs of ectasy begging to be released from the depths of your core as your boyfriend fucks You senselessly. His big, hard cock rocking you into submission.

“No no no,” he doesn’t beg you, he demands you. “Hold it just a little longer princess, do that for daddy.”

You nod as he amps up his pace, hearing your pretty moans flow around him as the two of you are sure everyone on campus can hear you.

But that’s what makes it fun, Felix wants them to know you belong to his. You’re his angel.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaks, letting himself release his cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim as you feel his cock twitch as you release your orgasm with him.

“Love filling you up,” he breaths out, finding it extremely attractive that you don’t have a problem with him not letting his cum go to waste. Besides, you’d never say no to him.

His sweaty palms roam around your naked body as the two of you break free from your love ridden state, sighing with delightful ease. He pulls you for skin to skin contact, laying on each other bare and full of vulnerability you can only display to one another,

“I love you,” he declares, kissing you softly.

And you love being spoiled by your daddy 🎀

[sugurouge]

— your eyes on my body : kunigami rensuke x f!reader

❝ Worship me, make you believe I'm what you need. So beg, darlin', please, baby, don't lie, it's okay that you crave me. Your eyes on my body, you're shaking, get high on me for you're forsaken.❞

summary: kunigami sucks at accepting compliments. even after all his personal growth, he still struggles with the same quirk years later. so when you suddenly feel the need to put the focus on him and make him feel flustered like a teenager all over again, the best course of action is to leave you unable to form a coherent thought in return

wc: 2.3k

content warnings: pet names (succubus lmao, sweetheart, love), praise, body worship @ kunigami, size kink/difference, manhandling, teasing, a pinch of dumbification if you squint

a/n: writing this felt like a fever dream

Across the rooftop, you watch him grab another drink at the bar counter. Shamelessly, you admire just how good he looks: slightly tanned skin, fitted black trousers that emphasise his strong legs and nice butt. A small smile tugs at your lips as your eyes roam his figure, appreciating how broad his back appears in that tight white button-down shirt. Then he turns around—

Someone walks in front of your vision, another guy, shorter, with shoulders that aren’t half as nice as Kunigami’s. Suddenly, there is a frown on your face. “I just saw you standing here alone and thought about keeping you company,” he says.

You only hum as you lean slightly sideways to get a glimpse of your beloved. The three buttons you convinced him to leave open your reward this very moment: The sun casts a perfect glow on the crevices of his chiselled chest, his dainty golden necklace shining in the rays of light, and those beautiful auburn eyes zeroing in on the guy in front of you.

A big hand lands on the other man’s nape. You would almost feel sorry if the size difference between the two didn’t turn you on so much. Kunigami’s grip tightens a little; he enjoys the stiffening of the guy’s shoulders as he redirects him to move sideways. Leaning into the frame to force eye contact, a gentle smile is plastered on his lips. “You’re not pretty enough to be talking to her, you know.”

You could have taken him right on the spot. Instead, you press your lips shut, biting down on your inner cheek to stop a grin from spreading across your face. He looks so good. And he’s all yours.

Once the intruder is gone, you take the cocktail from Kunigami’s hand. Your free hand rests on his neck, tugging him down to kiss him like you’re parched, with a hunger as if nobody else is watching. You leave him fully overwhelmed, his body stiffening in response, but how could he pass up on that chance? His hands claim your waist, holding you close and prolonging the kiss until your knees grow weak.

“So, you think you’re pretty enough for me?” you tease, recalling the words he used earlier. Rensuke’s eyes dodge yours, a slight pink hue dusting his cheeks now that he thinks about it. He’s never been the best at giving himself credit, nor at taking it. “Well, I think you’re very attractive,” you whisper before giggling at his adorable reaction.

The hunger for your partner kept your mind wide awake during the late afternoon until you finally arrived home. Kunigami, instead, is all but ready to get comfortable and wind down for the night. Yet, he is well aware of the clicking of your heels that follow him into your little walk-in closet, and you hum a sound of discontent to gain his attention.

“Ren,” you drawl his name softly, feigning a pout as you stand in front of him and let your hands dip beneath his button-down. Nails drag along his chest as you rise up on your toes to close the distance between your bodies. He leans in instinctively, the tips of your noses brushing for a second, but when he moves to kiss you, you turn around to offer him the zipper of your dress instead. Kunigami obliges, he's eager to watch the dress pool around your ankles, his eyes raking over your legs, ass, and the frilly panties you wear until your eyes meet again.

The challenge is starting to drain the blood from his brain. How is he supposed to maintain eye contact when you turn around with your arms resting at your sides? You win this game every time.

Auburn eyes flick down to appreciate the shape of your breasts, how they bounce as you step closer until they press against his body. “Baby,” you whisper, “where’s your decency, hm?”

“You’re playing with me too much; you know what you’re doing,” He shoots back, finally able to look at your face again. You can see how dilated his pupils have become.

“I’m sorry, I’ll behave, okay? I’ll be nice,” you tease. But your moves are anything but nice: a hand sneaks between your bodies to palm his growing erection. You love the way you feel him getting bigger because of you. Glossed lips stain his neck and chest as Kunigami’s head leans back slightly to offer you more room, a hum of content vibrating in his chest. “You’re so attractive,” you whisper into his skin while your hands unbuckle his belt.

If it wasn’t for his own hands that stop you, holding you in place as he leans down to kiss you for a moment, you would have continued your advances. “Stop saying that,” he gently protests, a slight frown highlighting his confusion.

“But you are. And I don’t tell you enough—”

He interrupts quickly, clearly bothered, “You tell me plenty.”

“You have no idea how hot you are, Ren,” you challenge back, while you both are staring at each other for a good moment. Silence hangs heavy in the room as he struggles with the compliment, a slight cringe inevitable. “I mean it, do you—”

Your words are cut off as Kunigami throws you over his shoulder, adjusting your body like you weigh nothing until you rest comfortably. A firm spank to your ass makes it impossible not to whine at the impact; he can practically see how your thighs are pressing together. 

That’s better.

Or so Kunigami thought. Unfortunately for him, you start all over again on your shared walk to the bedroom. “That guy earlier, he stood no chance compared to you. Nobody stands a chance! Ouch!” The rambling, the compliments—it's all a bit much with so much blood flowing to his cock. The best course of action is to bite into your ass cheek, deep enough to leave an imprint of his teeth. The sudden impact has you grasp onto his shirt, tears brimming in your eyes from the stinging pain and running free once your back meets the mattress.

Kunigami stands at the edge of the bed, rough fingers holding your ankle while he unbuckles the little straps of your shoes before throwing them aside.

His hands roam over the back of your thighs, pressing them into your sides as he leans in above you, his mouth attaching to your neck before littering your upper body with kisses. “You talk too much,” he mumbles between sloppy kisses and licks, his trail leading down your stomach to your soaked panties.

“Ren! Just—” you're unable to finish the thought as he drags the tip of his nose along your pussy, shamelessly inhaling your sweet scent and moaning against your wet panties. Those cute little whimpers are much better than any compliment, Kunigami thinks to himself. You look adorable when you're struggling so much. One finger on each side hooks around your panties to pull them off, allowing him to admire your messy state in the sheets, your cute cunt glistening and begging.

A foot presses against his chest as he leans down, desperately trying to keep him off you. “You make it impossible for me to look after you,” you complain, but it nearly falls on deaf ears. All Kunigami can think of is making that pretty mouth of yours unable to talk so much. His fingers wrap around your ankle, lips returning to kiss your skin up to your knee while his middle finger drags along your puffy lips.

Your thighs close around his fingers, your own hand reaching for his wrist to bring the slick-drenched finger up to your lips, tongue licking up your juices until you pop two of his digits into your mouth, mimicking what you could do for his painfully hard cock.

A sigh of defeat leaves Kunigami’s lips as he gives you room to crawl up on your knees, nimble fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt before your mouth leaves marks of pink and purple on his abs, teeth grazing his skin to distract him from the zipper of his pants. Kunigami cradles the back of your head, thumbing your neck gently, a silent urge you know too well.

“So needy for me, makes you only more attractive,” you chuckle to yourself, but any fight he would put up is forgotten once Rensuke looks down to witness you lick a greedy strip of his length, from base to tip, tightening his muscles and leaving his head spinning. “Succubus,” he groans. You're so pretty when you look up at him like that.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you hum innocently before inviting him into your mouth, your warm, wet tongue pressing against the underside of his heavy cock as you put on a show for him. Moaning against him, coating him in your spit, you make it impossibly easy for him to move his hips.

A mixture of pre and spit trickles down your chin as he picks up the pace, your watery eyes unwavering as you witness him falling apart. The stinging sensations of your nails against the frail skin of his thighs make the coil in his stomach nearly snap. How could he not pull you forward, forcing your lips flush against his crotch as he crumbles apart?

Heavy breaths and deep moans fan your back as he towers above your frame. “Doing so fucking well, you drive me insane,” he manages to pant, trusting you to swallow every drop of his cum.

Once you pull back, you’re left breathless, lungs begging for air as you stare up at Rensuke wide-eyed. Your eyes follow the drips of sweat highlighting his firm frame, watching how he pumps his half-hardened cock again. You lick the remaining cum off your lips with one swipe before parting your lips. “You’re so pretty it hurts.” Fuck, that little whine to your voice might just take away the last of his sanity.

He is on you in a second, your legs pressed into your chest to allow him to enter you deep without much of a challenge. To watch your eyes roll into the back of your head and hear your moans and complaints of “‘s too big” like anytime Rensuke’s greed overtakes him. “You’ll manage,” he pants into your neck, without room for consideration since his hips are already pulling back, “you always take me,” his lips enclose around your collarbone, sucking on your skin as he thrusts into you. The smacking of skin, the air being knocked out of your lungs—yes, that’s right. No silly compliments, no teasing, just his good girl getting fucked until she can’t form a sentence anymore. If Rensuke could, he’d go deeper, hold you tighter, drown in you.

One firm grip turns you around, the palm of his hand on the small of your back to force you into an arch as his thighs keep your legs apart. His cock rubs along your folds, teasing your clit with every roll of his hips. “Ren, please, you can’t—” another spank has you pushing your hips into him, pussy begging to be stuffed again. “Can’t tease you, huh? Only you can be a pain,” Kunigami finishes the sentence for you.

“Only a moment ago you said I’m too big,” he mocks your whiny tone, his chuckle tickling you as he kisses along your tired form, large hands resting on top of your own while his body leans like a blanket above yours. “Suddenly you’ve gotten all quiet again. I’m wondering where your compliments are now?” he cocks an eyebrow, eyes looking into yours as his lips kiss your shoulder. He won’t even hide his shit-eating grin as he watches your tired expression, “Head stuffed with my cock as well?”

Oh, but it’s not nice of you to turn your head the other way, not when you have a man like Kunigami, who can just wrap a hand around your stomach to pull you up into his broad chest. “Sweetheart,” he continues his ministrations, large palm cupping your tit, fingertips pinching your nipples while he draws lazy patterns into your clit until he makes you whine, until you finally react to him again. “You wanna cum on my cock?” he whispers into your ear, licking a nasty strip along your neck before nibbling on your skin. “Y-yes, yes, I do, I do!” If you weren’t so desperate to finally feel bliss, you’d elbow him for the chuckle that follows. “Why don’t you tell me earlier then?”

He lets you fall onto the mattress, trusting you can catch your own fall, as his hands are already on your hips. Holding you nice and open so he may position himself in front, your begging pussy once more stuffed to the brim by his cock. The soft patterns being drawn into your skin by his thumbs are a farce, so different from the abuse he puts on your cunt.

Handling your body himself rather than making you move, he brings you back down on his length each time he is pulling out again. You moan into the duvets, tears and smeared makeup staining the fabric, but he couldn’t care less for that mess if you look this good. If he can watch your ass bounce with each thrust, watch it jiggle thanks to the force he uses to keep you creaming around him. “Just like that, come on, you know how to let go for me,” he encourages as you tighten around him again and again, only missing a tiny push. His hips snap against yours, balls smacking your clit each time as blunt nails bruise your hips. As your eyes fall shut and your legs tremble, his soft voice rings in your mind, praising you, “You’re so pretty when you cum for me, love.”

“Ren,” you sigh his name like a sweet symphony, so cute when you say his name like that. Kunigami holds you, your legs unable to keep up with his movements as his thrusts are unrelenting for his own high. But when he cums, he pulls you close, hiding himself in the crook of your neck, moans being soaked up by your skin before falling to his side, cock nestled inside you as he strokes your tired figure.

“You’re really hot,” you can’t help but mumble, always needing to have the final say. The defeated sound coming from Rensuke brings a smile to your lips, a grumbled thanks the only acknowledgement you will receive for tonight.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[additiva]

can u rec some lestappen fanfics pleaseee i feel like i’ve read everything and ur an amazing writer so i trust ur taste (even ones you haven’t read and want to read will do) tyy

Ooh I love this. Also that's so lovely thank you 🤍❤️

Lestappen Fic Rec List

Below the cut.

Ok not an exhaustive list, but here are the ones I remember LOVING.

Some are well known, some less so.

I can't rec any I haven't read yet sorry I'm super picky about the writing style, which you don't know until you get into the fic.

I've tagged some authors, some I couldn't remember their Tumblr names even though I follow them. I'll try to remember to tag them later, but also feel free to do so, if you know them.

Please leave kudos and comment on these fic if you check them out 🤍

I'll try to remember to update the list in future if I can.

Every Other Sunday by Anney

Obviously

Home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci

Charles leaves Ferrari. There's a million of these, and this is my favourite.

Grapefruit Mignonette by slapshots

Restaurant au. The best of the trope in my opinion though the others are also good.

Set My Midnight Sorrow Free by PrincessElectra

-LOVE this series. Ugh. NOT an au.

Violent delights by grandprix

-ABO. Adore this series esp the second one.

Straight Lines by @alphatinies

Yes. Can't describe just read.

Blood Soaked Gown by sixteenthirtythree

ABO. Friends w benefits. Max is retiring and wants Charles to take his Red Bull seat. Adore it.

Canine teeth in the side of my neck by mintchocolatechip97

Silly! Biting. Don't look directly at me.

If I had words by @formula-fun

ABO. Charles has a miscarriage. Don't let the pregnancy themes scare you, it's perfect. The dynamics are 🫠 I adore this Max 😖

Called to the devil and the devil said hey by @creabirds

Yes. Sticks in my brain like glue.

A life in your shape by weiwuxian

- Max is Batman. This bit, I'll never forget:

But it was what made it fun — being taunted and kissed in the same breath. To fight and fuck and feel worshiped the whole time.

Top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge-sangnoir

Sex worker Charles, virgin Max. 😖

Breathe You In (Like a Vapour) by @fabbyf1

🌶️🌶️❤️❤️

I'll Be Right Beside You by @fabbyf1

Max has amnesia. Charles is perfect.

Curious by LaurawritingF1

Charles is bicurious. Max is happy to help.

Heart Out series by @drivestraight

Girl!Max. Charles is bad at sex, but for some reason Max keeps doing it with him. Underrated. One of my fave series ever. Charles is a simp. He cannot handle Max, but he tries anyway, and I LOVE him.

Panem et circenses by Anney

SO underrated wow. Dystopian future of F1 fic, and like. Wow. Perfect. Wow.

Dirtbag, baby by mondaycore

All of their lestappen. Again, don't look directly at me. Look at the fic instead.

The Skirt by Anonymous

Silly! And short. But I love it.

Says he's going to teach me what fast is by @foggystars

Their lestappen are great but actually this Charlos one is my fave 🤌

And these are not Lestappen. They're Maxiel primarily, which I don't seek out in my life but they're SO perfect it makes me sick. I think anyone would enjoy them. The writing is just perfect.

To the Victor Belong The Spoils by @powerful-owl

Hunger Games AU. Wow the writing. The characterisations. Wow. It's all perfect. Wow. Please read it. You'll love it.

Steal the air out of my lungs by nahco3

Resident doctor au. Both accurate and compelling. Max is so dear to me. And Lewis. Love of my life, ugh.

Leave this blue neighbourhood series by tiredtiredsharl

This whole series I must've read 20 times. Multi-ship, though not Lestappen. Found family. It heals me with every word, it's just 😖😖❤️❤️.

Okay that's it for now. Lmk what you think.

[erwinsvow]

was watching the latest hunger games and i don’t know if you’ve seen it but there’s a scene with snow and lucy gray that is so reader and rafe core. like the scene where he kills the mayor’s daughter and lucy gray is in hysterics and he just grabs her, warns her to pull herself together and go back outside and pretend like he’s not just killed someone and i’m like this is so rafe and his casual dominance with reader. 😍😍

babe STOP you are SOOO onto something here.. + that scene in the movie had me FERAL!!!!! picturing season two after limbrey kills that guy (im so sorry i cannot recall any names.. was too busy staring at rafe's arms)

"oh my god!" you squeal, eyes wide like coins, tears filling up and almost spilling over in a matter of seconds. "oh my god, oh my god-"

rafe fucked up. he shouldn't have gotten you anywhere near this situation, it's his own fault. your insistence on not being too far from him and his own ego that found pleasure in that fact had won him over. rafe liked that you liked him, that you needed him around.

but right now he can tell what you're thinking—probably something along the lines of the fact that he was insane, that his dead body had appeared and he was going to take care of it because he wasn't reacting at all like you were, how any normal person would.

limbrey was staring at you, and a sudden fear ran through his mind that she might try and hurt you too.

"go inside-" he barks at the older lady, who doesn't move, gun in her hand. "go inside! m'gonna have to take care of this, leave-" she stalks off, while you watch with your big wet eyes, shoulders shaking, voice run dry from your screaming.

your reaction is normal, expected. he can't find it himself to even be remotely angry. he leaves the dead body where it is, hands finding your shoulders and dragging you away, like that might help you.

"hey, listen to me. listen to me." he says sternly, and you listen obediently, if not due to fear. "don't scream. don't worry. m'gonna take care of this-this mess, okay? we're gonna be fine."

"r-rafe, she k-killed someone. we, we have to call the police-"

"we're not calling anyone. m'gonna handle it. he was a bad guy, okay, no one's gonna miss him."

"a-and that makes it okay? rafe, you-"

"hey," he barks and you freeze up, listening. "listen, kid, have i ever gotten you hurt? haven't i kept you safe? hm?" he wants an answer, so you nod, still shell shocked. "s'gonna be fine. keep it together. i can't have you like this. we're gonna be fine."

"o-okay." you look down at your white shirt, observing tiny little dots of blood. "what, what do i-"

"go inside. throw this shirt in the fireplace. and then go upstairs to my room and take a shower. okay? i gotta take care of this first. then i'll come join you, got it? alright?"

"okay," you repeat, nodding, frozen. you look up at your boyfriend one last time, trusting him like you always do, even when a little part of you is screaming to run and take off in the other direction. "what're you gonna d-do, with him, uh-"

"i don't know, kid. i need to get you away from it first. just go upstairs, please-" your shoulders relax as soon as the sentence leaves his lips. your mind goes fuzzy, like it always does around rafe, but hearing that even in this insane, unfathomable situation, that his first priority is you, makes your head spin.

you lean in, pressing a kiss to rafe's lips, not pulling away until a minute has passed, your shaking hands tight on his arms.

like always, you follow the instructions he's given you, walking away and heading inside, shedding your clothes and burning them, cleaning yourself in the scalding water until you can smell nothing but the vanilla of your soap and the pine of rafe's shampoo. once out, you put on one of his shirts and some of his long white socks, everything feeling cold still.

you wait patiently on his bed, not able to focus on anything on your phone. when rafe walks in, you don't move, letting him come sit beside you.

"what did you-" you start, before being interrupted.

"don't ask, kid." rafe doesn't sound mad, rather protective. "if i tell you, you're in this shit now. can't have that."

you wrap your arms around his neck, crawling into rafe's lap and into a tight hug. his hands tense around your waist, and you close your eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin. he doesn't smell like blood, at the very least, so you think he hasn't done anything crazy yet.

or crazier, you correct yourself.

"the swamp. in the woods. there's gators, and foxes, and who knows what else." it comes out as a whisper, like you're scared that the walls might overhear. "if you bring him there, no one will find him. if no one finds him you can't get in trouble."

rafe pulls out of the hug to look at you, all shaky limbs and wet eyes. he presses a kiss to your forehead.

[lokigodofmyheart]

COLD

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Y/N and Loki had been best friends for a long time and she knew about his heritage. She was okay with it. One day they were at his room, talking, and then one thing led to another and they kissed.  

Warning/Content: smut, temperature play, jotun Loki.

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Loki's lips were like heaven. Y/N moaned against it when his tongue explored her mouth and his hand roamed her body. Loki was on top of her, between her legs, his body pinning her down on the bed as he moves against her and she could feel him hard on his leather pants.  

He kissed her jaw, then her neck, before he pulled away to look at her, his eyes darken with desire “You trust me, right?” 

Y/N looked at him, her eyes not much different from his. She gave a small nod “With my life.” 

Loki smiled against her neck before he pulled back just a little so they could undress each other. Soon they were naked, Y/N watching his body. ��He started to kiss her neck, down to her collarbone. He kissed her chest, her breast, her stomach, going down her body, until he stops in her hips, spreading her legs more, making a small gasp left her lips. 

He kissed her inner thigh while his hand held her hips. Loki stopped, looking up at her, eyes filled with desire and something else… he looked like a starved beast in that moment, hungrily staring up at her. He kept looking up at her as he moved his mouth to her core, his tongue slowly started to lick her. Y/N moans feeling his warm tongue moving against her pussy. 

“Loki...” Her voice sound like a needy moan. He let out a little moan against her, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure he pressed his mouth firmer against her.  

Loki pulled away slightly, licking his lips before speaks “You taste amazing.” His voice was quiet and deep, as if he was saying a secret that only she knew about. He moved his tongue back to her. His tongue starts to work more vigorously, like he can’t get enough of her, moving faster, focusing on her clit. 

He looks up at her again, licking her, sucking her, his eyes darkened and filled with hunger and desire at each sound she made it, until she closed her eyes. Loki smirks against her, he wanted to try something with her and now would be the perfect time, so without warning, he turned in his Jotun form. 

Y/N moans a little louder, feeling the change of temperature. His tongue now was ice cold, and so was his hands on her. Loki loved how she reacted and it only fueled his desire more. Her run his tongue in all off her pussy, around her entrance and went back to focus on her clit. He let his hands wander up her body, feeling the cold of his hands against her skin until his hands found up to her breasts and he gently rolled her nipples on his cold fingers, making her moan more.  

“Loki...” A desperate moan came from her lips, indicating she was feeling so good. Loki loved to hear it, loving how she was reacting to this form of him...the real him.  

Her hips moved slightly against his tongue, meeting his pace. He knew she was getting closer to cum and he speed up her tongue, sucking her clit just to make her moan even more while his hands came back to her hips to hold her down in place. In a few more seconds, she was moaning his name and arching her back while she orgasmed.  

Loki continued to eat her out until she rides out her orgasm. As he felt her body relaxing, he pulled away from her, breathing heavy, his eyes dark, and his Jotun form starting to change back.  

Y/N finally opened her eyes, looking at the god on top of her. His eyes were dark with desire, and all she wanted was to him to finally fuck her. “Loki...please...I need you.” 

He looked at her, his eyes filled with lust and hunger. He didn’t need to be told twice, he was just as desperate as she was “I need you too… more than you know.” 

At that, he grabbed her legs and wrapped around his waist. His cock was hard as he positioned himself on her entrance. Y/N gave a small nod, desperate to feel him, and then he slowly started to push in, a small groan coming from his lips. She moaned at the new feeling of him filling her up, stretching her walls with his size.  

Loki gave her a moment to get used, but some part of him also needed a moment to not just cum right there with how tight she felt around him. He slowly started moving, looking at her to see if there was any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he started picking up his pace. 

Moans left her lips as he thrusts on her. He keeps going, loving each sound she was making. His movements becoming a little bit faster, a little bit harder, seeking for more. He looked at her face, the pleasure she was feeling and he decided to test his other form again.  

Without a warning, he turned back in his Jotun form, right before her eyes. She moaned, fighting to keep her eyes open at the new sensation of his cock cold as ice, thrusting on her.  

Loki let out a low groan, the temperature change affecting him more than he expected. She suddenly felt way too hot around him, and that made him even crazy. His grip tightened on her hips, a few groans coming from the god’s lips.  

“Loki...” Y/N moans his name. 

He whispered against her ear, his breath cold and heavy “Faster? Or harder?” 

“Both.”  

He didn’t even hesitate, wanting to give her everything she wanted. His hips moved even faster, harder, going as deep as he can “You like that?” She only nods, not trusting her mouth would do anything else than moan again.  

As he continued to move, hitting a deep spot inside of her, he started feeling her clenching slightly around him. He knew she was close and he wanted nothing more than to make her cum on him “Cum for me, love...” 

Hearing his words and with the feeling of him, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She felts even tighter around him and she couldn’t help as her eyes closed at the intense pleasure she felt. That was the final push that Loki needed, and soon after she rode out her orgasm, he came too, with a deep grunt. 

He lets his body fall against her of exhaustion, turning back to his Asgardian form as he kissed her gently on the lips, then on her forehead before he pulled out and laid on the bed next to her “You okay?” 

Y/N nods, still catching her breath “Yeah…that was amazing by the way…” 

Loki nods, his breath still heavy as he pulls her closer “Yes, it was...It was an interesting experience.” He holds her in his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin when he spoke again, hesitantly “I was afraid you would be...disgusted...” 

“Loki...” She looks up at him with a soft gaze “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t find you disgusting like that?” 

He looks at her, a small smile forming on his face “I know, I know...but I still worry about it. It's hard to shake off old insecurities.” 

Y/N looked at him, with a smirk “Let’s take a shower then. I’ll get rid of those insecurities.”  

Loki chuckles but soon a smirk formed on his lips “Lead the way.” 

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.