#(to just silently think about when he took that side street to get away from enforcers as a kid etc)

[filmabyy]

«Heart On The Window» Cho Hyun-ju x Male!Reader Part 2?

Cho Hyun-ju x Male reader!

Summary: Y/N has always had a crush on her neighbor across the street, Hyun-ju. He has never had the courage to speak a word to her. Until one day they meet again in the most unexpected place.

*Warnings: mentions blood, insults, blows, self-disdain, etc.*

«English is not my first language and I'm sorry if I get some words wrong» 😔🤍

Y/n was at home when she suddenly heard a loud knock on the door.

Curious, him went to open it and found herself face to face with three burly, intimidating-looking men.

Before he could react, they entered her house with large steps and one of them grabbed her arm tightly.

"Hey!" he said surprised and didn't know what was happening at that moment.Only that he received a strong blow to the stomach and fell to the ground hard.

The men came even closer to him and began to intimidate him with harsh words."Where is that bastard Kim? He must pay that rat's debt..."

The one who seemed to be the leader of the group came even closer and kicked the side of his face.

And at that moment Y/N felt her face burn with pain.

Y/N let out a moan of pain and business. "N-no..I don't know where he is. He left here a long time ago, I don't know where he is.."

Exclaimed in pain as he tried to compose himself.

The men sneered as they watched him.

"Oh well, but if he's not there someone else will have to foot the bill for him, right guys?." The eldest said with a smirk and the other men laughed with him as they nodded.

Y/N looked at them scared.

"I don't have money to pay that debt..."

He confessed scared but was interrupted by another blow that this time was towards his stomach. He let out a loud moan of pain, while he felt his body burning.

Y/n felt something hot and liquid dripping down her body at that moment.

Him coughed as she spat out some of that famous crimson liquid and tried to get up but received a kick and fell back to the ground.

The leader of the group crouched down in front of him and grabbed by the hair tightly.

"Listen to me carefully...if you don't pay in the agreed time you will suffer severe consequences."

Then, one of his companions kicked him again in the stomach, making him gasp in pain.

The leader let go and stepped back, giving a menacing look. "We don't have time for your excuses..."

Him pointed towards the door.

"You have two months, or we will come for you again, and believe me..."

He looked at the other men and looked cruel.

"Next time, I won't be so nice boy, okay?" The other men laughed cruelly.

The men walked away a few steps, taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one."So... understood?" He asked with an air of superiority.

The smoke from the cigarette rose through the air, impregnating the smell of tobacco in the room. He took a card from his jacket to throw it on the floor.

"When you have my money, call this number, so I'll come for it."

The older man determined and gave him one last look.

"And don't even think about escaping like your bastard father did. I'm going to find you if you escape." he exclaimed seriously and pointed at Y/N.

The leader took a long drag on his cigarette and remained silent for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on Y/n.

Then he turned around and headed towards the door with firm steps.

Before leaving, the leader turned his head back and spoke sharply, "Remember the deadline. Don't fail us."

The other men's followed him, slamming the door shut, leaving Y/n on the floor, in pain and trying to recover from the brutal beating he had received.

The silence and the smell of tobacco still filled the room uncomfortably, as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened.

He lay on the ground, the pain still present in his body, his mind filled with questions and worries about how him would face the future.

How was he going to get the money to pay off the debt in such a short time? And what would happen if he couldn't get the money together?.

Stood up and dragged himself into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, let the water run and he began to wash himself, complaining about the pain in his face, then he raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror looking miserable.

As the cold water ran down his face, Y/n felt overwhelmed by the situation him was in.

The marks on her skin were beginning to take shape and the pain was still present. The reflection in the mirror showed a battered and troubled person...

He stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to recover for the moment and finished cleaning his face. Until the sound of a light knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

Without further ado, he tried to clean himself as quickly as he could and gathered strength in his body to stay standing.

As he walked towards the door, he stopped for a second, whether it was those men again or someone new who because of his father, would have to pay yet another debt.

Thousands and thousands of thoughts came to his head at that moment.

Him stood still for a few seconds, trying to compose herself and recover from the emotional impact. The sound of the knocks rang out again, making Y/n's heart beat faster.

Y/N reached his trembling hand towards the doorknob and opened the door. His eyes widened in surprise at who it was.

"Hyun-ju?..." He said in a sigh the name of the woman was in love with.

Hyun-ju stood in the doorway, facing Y/n. His eyes widened as he saw the state she was in. His gaze filled with concern and surprise ran over her face, observing the marks of the beating that were still present.

"Y/n, my go... What happened to you?.." She asked tenderly, his voice full of concern.

She noticed the bumps and how his face reflected the pain he was feeling. Her took a step inside the apartment with the intention of approaching him.

"Hyun-ju..." He exclaimed and wanted to cover his face to prevent her from seeing him in that state.

Y/N felt embarrassed that she saw him like that, after all this time trying to get his attention and seeing him in this state made him feel bad.

"Let me see, let me see you." She said in a soft, concerned tone.

She took a few steps closer to him, not taking her eyes off his wounds. She wanted to try to understand how he ended up like this, but she also wanted to check that he was okay.

The concern reflected in her eyes was unmistakable as she tried to get closer to check him out.

When he felt Hyun-ju's hands on his face, he couldn't help but feel the softness of her skin. He felt like he was in a dream and didn't want to wake up.

Maybe the beating made him faint and he was having this nice dream.

But he held back and snapped out of his trance.

"This? It's nothing, I just fell while I was working." Y/N quickly apologized.

She knew it was a silly excuse but couldn't think of anything else to say. Hyun-ju faked a giggle but her body hurt but if she was in front of Hyun-ju, the pain didn't matter.

"We have to clean this up or it's going to get infected" she exclaimed worriedly. Without stopping to check on me, she pulled Y/N's hand to enter her apartment.

"Where's the first aid kit?."

"Hey Hyun-ju, I'm fine, you don't have to..." wanted to tell him.

"No, you have to, these bumps don't seem like a big deal at first but if you don't treat them well they get worse."

Hyun-ju cut her words off and Y/N fell silent.

"I have it in my bathroom, I'll go get it " he said but she refused and offered to go get it.

Y/N accepted and then Hyun-ju came back with a small box of first aid supplies. She forced him to sit down and began to treat his wounds carefully.

Y/N couldn't help but look at her, every action and how her hands moved carefully cleaning every wound. Just feeling her close to him and admiring her beautiful face was a great gift for he.

“You’re doing great. I appreciate it, Hyun-ju…” Y/N thanked him with a sweet smile.

Hyun-ju, hearing that, looked at him and couldn’t help but smile the same way. Y/N’s smile was contagious.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. As neighbors we help each other, right?” She repeated Y/N’s phrase with amusement. Him couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as he nodded.

“You’re right.”

The two stayed in a comfortable silence as Hyun-ju finished healing the wounds and Y/N looked at her again.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?." He asked out of nowhere.

Him didn't know how or where that courage had come from but he said it, at least it was a start to getting to know the beautiful Cho Hyun-ju.

Who had captivated his attention that day he moved into the building.

Hyun-ju stopped paying attention to the wounds just as Y/n asked that question, her gaze fixed on him. A small blush covered her cheeks at that unexpected invitation.

Her heart was beating strongly in her chest at the moment he asked her the question, a small feeling of nerves forming in her stomach as she listened to him.

She hesitated for a moment.

Stay for dinner? Was it just kindness or something more? She stayed silent for a few seconds, her gaze full of questions but finally she answered:

"I would love to." She said with a soft shyness as her eyes flashed, smiling slightly and lowering her gaze.

Hearing that, Y/N couldn't help but smile big and internally began to celebrate that she had accepted.

"Great, would you like to eat something specific? I don't mean to brag, but I'm a good cook." He joked and the shyness was fading away at that moment.

Hyun-ju laughed softly at his joke and felt a little more comfortable at that moment.

The tension seemed to dissipate with every word and gesture.

His eyes sparkled as he joked around with a proud smile. “I guess I’ll have to try it out to see if you’re as good as you say you are.”

She said with a playful tone, a slight mischief in his gaze as he responded with a smile. Hyun-ju was really intrigued to see how he would cook.

“Oh, believe me, you’ll love it,” he replied kindly as he laughed and couldn’t help but admire Hyun-ju.

His eyes sparkled brightly when he saw her again.

The tension in the air completely dissipated, replaced by a clear connection between them as they chatted and joked.

Hyun-ju's gaze remained fixed on Y/n, unable to help but admire her presence and gestures.

The moment was comfortable and the atmosphere felt electric, but the excitement of the encounter gave them an addictive feeling.

Hyun-ju couldn't help but look at Y/N and know that he was a good man. Although his insecurities were in his head.

She tried to ignore it. Because seeing Y/N treat her so gently made his heart skip. It felt unreal to see someone treat her the way Y/N did from the first moment, accepting her for who she really was.

Little by little he was getting into her skin without realizing it...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N opened her eyes in surprise when she saw someone familiar in that place.

She couldn't believe it.

“Hyun-ju?...” he said her name.She looked at him the same way.

They both couldn't believe they were in the same place.

“Y/N… what are you doing here?”.

She exclaimed worried and surprised to find him there.

They were going to have a long conversation.

[fishymedic]

Me working on his parents backstories and just going 'look i know nothing about locations or anything- but do locations really matter because I fear both were just constantly trying to find somewhere decent and failing up till found each other+then ended up in zaun'

[nanaslutt]

ʚ nsfw under the cut,, minors and ageless blogs dni

Thinking about Gojo getting you two matching Bluetooth vibrators for Valentine’s day....

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo’s body jerked forward when you upped the intensity of the toy from the little remote in your pocket. The man behind the counter was turned around, pointing at some specialty dessert as he explained it, so he unfortunately missed the way Gojo’s jaw fell open in a silent moan before he corrected himself.

His jaw muscles clenched under the weight of his teeth, his eyes briefly rolling back in his head as the tight cockring vibrated intensely around his sensitive shaft, vibrating his balls along with it.

Turning his head to the side inconspicuously, Gojo gave you a malicious smile, silently cursing at you before he stuck his own hand into his pocket and gave you the same treatment.

Luckily there was no one behind you, so they were unable to see the way you fell against Gojo, your inner thighs pressing together as you gripped harshly onto the sleeve of his expensive jacket, wrinkling the material. You could feel the small bullet vibe shaking against your walls as well as the flat piece stimulating your clit, pressing firmly against it. 

“I-“ Gojo cleared his throat before he finished speaking, noticing how hoarse and unused it sounded. “I’ll take that one, and the brown sugar boba milk t-tea.” Gojo smiled politely, his muscles flexing under your arm.

You gripped him harder, praying he would take mercy on you and order for you with the state you were in. 

Unfortunately for you, Gojo was at his limit as well. He was worried if he tried to speak for you he would cum in his pants before he even finished ordering. "What about you baby?" He asked, looking down at you, trying to turn his head as far to the side in your direction and away from the cashier as possible. This fucking asshole.

Swallowing hard, you went to open your mouth when you shut it just as fast. Gojo had started to slide the intensity up and down, up and down in a wave-like motion, making you feel weak in the knees. Biting your lip as inconspicuously as possible, you stuck your hand out in front of you and waved it, dismissing the attention on yourself by feigning like you didnt want anything.

Gojo smiled to himself when you started repeatedly tapping agaisnt his arm, silently begging him to turn down the vibrator as he took out his wallet to pay. Wanting to show you could be could, you turned him down as well, which made his body visibly relax.

Gojo cracked his neck to the side before he tapped his card quickly and shoved his card back into the sleeve before he turned the intensity of your own vibrator down, to match your energy. Gojo grimaced when he felt a fat bead of pre-cum spill out from his cock, undoubtedly staining the inside of his boxers even more. The softer intensity was arguably more painful and hard to endure than the faster one. The soft, barely there vibrations made his cock throb, begging for more.

After waving thanks to the worker, Gojo turned the two of you around and walked you over a few steps to the side of the building, letting you lean back against it. You took the opportunity to squeeze his arm hard, your lip trembling as you turned your face away from the street and buried it in his arm. "Satoru take me home right now." You begged your hands shaking as you gripped onto him, your legs matching.

Gojo looked down at you and cooed before biting his lip. Caressing the side of your face Gojo made you look up at him, his blue eyes finding yours from under his dark shades. "You sure? Seems like you were havin' fun teasing me back there. Almost came in my pants in front of that poor guy." He joked, his cock throbbing at your pathetic and desperate face.

"Toru, please. Please take me home right now I- I can't stand anymore." You begged the fabric wrinkling under your fingers more. With a soft kiss to the top of your head, you were lifted into Gojo's arms in a princess carry as he started off in the direction of the nearest alleyway so he could teleport the two of you home without being seen. "You can dish it but you can't take it huh princess? Did I play with you too much?" Gojo whispered as he strolled down the sidewalk. 

You nodded into the crook of his neck, ignoring his irritating words. "Don't worry baby, I'll fuck you nice and good when we get home." He reassured you, making you whimper in response before Gojo turned abruptly and walked into the dark shade of the alleyway. He leaned his face close to yours before he added, "But the vibrator is staying inside."

[lxvebun]

if it's okay could you write something about simon asking the reader to stay the night and it will be the first time they sleep over? no pressure ofc!

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader. Fluff! i'm yearning for fall/winter so it's written with that in mind. The heat is getting to me🥲 not proofread im nervous. Eng isn't my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

“I should probably go."

It took you an embarrassingly long time to finally get those words out. Every minute ticking by only making you more and more nervous to actually say them. You truly don’t want to leave just yet. Don’t want to pull away from your place next to him, tucked into his side, soft, warm. A strong arm wrapping around you keeping you nice and close to him, occasionally his hand traces invisible heart shapes and silent i love you’s into your skin. 

(a habit that has shifted into his love language. Simon Riley loves quietly, but deeply. And moments where he can get his hands on your skin to spell out his devotion to you, fingertips burning pleasantly, leaving behind a trail of falling stars, is something he makes time for often)

It feels all too safe and domestic to leave just yet, but the colder months are approaching and it’s well into the evening now. The sky has already completely settled into a deep dark blue with clusters of stars and a bright full moon. The streets however are still lively, early sunsets and longer nights having no affect on most people's schedule. People are coming back from a long day at work, couples are running their last errands at the corner store and old grannies are coming back from their weekly bingo night down the street at the community center. Right now, it still feels safe enough to walk back home on your own. Without a doubt, Simon would offer to walk you, but he’s barely made it through your annual movie night and you’d rather not keep him from his much needed and well deserved sleep.

(it would not be your first time walking home alone at night, don’t tell Simon, but you prefer not to. Being so hyper aware of every movement and every sound is tiring and your 15 minute walk back home feels like you just finished a marathon)

He shifts next to you, the haze of sleep laced in his movements, a groan of disagreement falling from his lips as he throws a glance at his watch.

"T’is only eight, sweetheart. You never leave this early. Something wrong?" A twinge of worry coursing through his voice, brows furrowed at the thought of you being uncomfortable. His hand changes from tracing shapes to rubbing comforting circles into your side, albeit a bit frantically.

(he’s so attentive it honestly makes you wanna cry sometimes)

"No, nothings wrong," You begin. Smoothing the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb and placing a gentle kiss to his jawline. "I just don’t want to walk alone at night. Nor do I want to keep you from your sleep"

You’re quick to add the last bit, practically hearing the words "I'll walk you " escape from his mouth already.

He doesn’t make an attempt to remove his hands from your waist, or sit back up straight. On the contrary he’s taken it to melt into you a little more, pull you a little closer and you think he’s doing this to convince you to stay

(it's working)

even months deep into your relationship, every sweet touch and gentle kiss still manages to cause your heart to soar and flutter in your chest.

He takes a moment to just look at you, and it makes you avert your eyes at its heaviness. Too sweet, too piercing, you feel like he’s looking into your mind and soul, breaking it open like a book and taking everything in. Usually, he coaxes you with delicate words and a warm hand on your jaw to keep looking at him but he’ll let you look away for now. You who’s so sweetly tucked into his side, you who feels so warm and peaceful against him it makes him wanna squeeze you to his chest and never let go. How could he possibly let you go when you look so content and so safe in his arms. From the look in your eyes and body language alone he can tell you feel good here, that you want to stay. He’s right but It’s the nerves, the shyness and not being sure where his boundaries lie that make you pull away from this moment

"You could always stay the night." He whispers, honeyed and soothing. Making sure you know there’s no pressure behind his request. It makes something warm curl in your heart

He’s been thinking about it often, what it would be like to wake up next to you. Seeing you first thing when he opens his eyes all angelic and soft in the golden morning sun rays, sleeping in his bed, draped in his sheets. Would you have any special night routines, would you like to use a nightlight or do you prefer complete darkness, do you move around a lot, are you cuddly. It honestly takes over the majority of his thoughts when he goes to bed himself. Finds himself imagining in detail what it would be like and he swears that he sleeps best on those nights. He can only imagine how good he’ll sleep next to you.

Your silence would worry him if he wasn’t able to read you so well. A hitch in your breath, eyes looking everywhere but him, a shy smile tugging on your lips

(you’re so cute)

"I’d like that." Your voice comes out soft, a little vulnerable but you know you’re safe. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

You’ve been thinking about it too. Spend many nights imagining what it would be like to curl up in his arms and drift off to sleep. Waking him up with a plethora of kisses to his face. Making your respective morning drinks in the kitchen together, stealing kisses in between sips. Thinking about it always leaves you feeling a little dizzy.

His response comes in the form of a wet kiss to your forehead that trails down to your cheeks, then the corner of your lips before finally pulling you into one. You'll choose to spare him and not comment on the flush on his cheeks, just this once

"I’ll go grab a hoodie and some sweatpants, you can use those to sleep in"

reluctantly, although motivated by the image of you in his clothes, he stands up, warmth slipping away for a moment before it’s contained again by the blanket he drapes over you.

"I’ll grab the clothes, you pick another movie"

With that he makes his way to the bedroom to retrieve said clothes. Before you can pick up the remote to pick a movie however, his voice booms out of the bedroom

"Do not pick twilight. Can’t stand that edward fucker."

Perhaps the Notebook will be more to his taste then:)

thank you for requesting nonnie! and thank you for reading angels!

[milesmoralesluvs]

Cry Baby (I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you breathing) - Ekko x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: mention of blood

ekko x medic!reader

Ekko doesn't remember the exact moment when everything changed between you two. One minute, you were just kids running through the streets of Zaun, stealing glances at each other and dreaming of something better. The next, you were both standing midst of a revolution, both bearing the weight of your choices and responsibilities.

It had always been that way, hadn't it? Both of you carried the pain of Zaun’s broken streets in different ways, and that pain had shaped who you were—who you were meant to be.

“(Y/N),” Ekko whispered, his voice strained from the blood loss. “How did we get here?”

You didn’t answer right away. You finished wrapping his side with gauze and then gently cupped his chin, tilting his face up toward yours. There was no judgment in your eyes, only the kind of quiet understanding that Ekko had never found anywhere else.

“We were always going to end up here,” you said softly. “Those were the shitty cards we were dealt with.”

You were no longer the girl that played in the streets with him. You were the Firelight medic now. Your eyes were laser focused as you worked, hands steady and efficient. Back when you were children, you had patched him up after every scrape, every reckless stunt. Nothing had changed, you were still the one taking care of himself when he couldn't.

“Still think you’re invincible?” you asked, glancing up at him as you cleaned the wound.

“I’m still breathing,” Ekko shot back, but the words felt hollow, more tired than defiant.

You didn’t respond, just continuing to work on him. It was always this way. You’d never say what you really wanted to say, but Ekko knew you too well. There were things between you—things left unsaid—but both of you had been too afraid to voice them. Back then, it was the simple question of whether you’d be able to survive together. Now, it was bigger than that. Now, it was about whether if you guys could still see each other as more than the people you had been, more than the roles you both were now trapped in.

Ekko met your eyes, his chest tight. “I don’t know if I can fix this. Everything’s falling apart, (Y/N), I keep trying, but it’s never enough.”

You finished cleaning the wound, your hands pausing as you looked up at him. The same intensity you had always carried was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not supposed to fix everything,” you said quietly. “You’re just supposed to keep going. We all are.”

There was a pause, and for a fleeting moment, Ekko saw the girl he had known all his life. The girl who had bandaged his scraped knees, who had silently supported him with his creations. The girl who had always believed in something better for them, for Zaun.

“And what if I don’t know how?” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice something he hadn’t allowed anyone to hear in years.

You set down your medical tools and stepped closer to him. You took his hand, your fingers warm against his cold skin. For a moment, he felt a wave of emotions crash over him—memories of their childhood, of simpler times, of a connection that had always been there but was buried beneath the chaos of their lives.

“You don’t have to know how, Ekko,” you said softly, your voice just for him. “You just have to keep trying.”

You took a seat beside him on the tiny bed, bodies squished together, shoulders pressing. You hesitated for a moment before leaning your head against his.

“You’re not the Boy Savior or the leader of the firelights when you're with me. You’re just Ekko, the boy who always offered me the last bite of his food, the tastiest part. The boy who indulged in my every stupid theory about aliens. The boy who always managed to pull a reckless stunt and inevitably end up injured and me having to patch you up.”

You fiddled with the ends of your skirt. “You still do. All of that.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Your aliens theories are very interesting.”

You smiled at him softly. He mirrored a similar one of his own.

Ekko looked at you then, really looked at you. And in that moment, something shifted—something he hadn’t expected but had always hoped for. He wasn’t sure where this path would lead them, but he knew one thing for certain: you was still here, still standing by his side.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you,” he said, his voice low, vulnerable.

You smiled, gently flicking his forehead before cupping his face to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. ‘You dont have to, silly. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you ever.”

For a long moment, you simply stayed there, the weight of everything you both had endured settling between, unspoken. You didn’t need to say more. Not yet. There was time.

[comfortless]

Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.

notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.

König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.

He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.

A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.

He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.

A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.

It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.

Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.

The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.

It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.

Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.

Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.

The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.

Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.

He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.

It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.

— — —

When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.

She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…

His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.

Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.

He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.

Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.

Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.

When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.

It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.

He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.

Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.

He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.

He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.

His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.

It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.

He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.

If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.

His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.

There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.

It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.

His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”

It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.

What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.

She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.

Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.

None of this is enough.

———

König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.

Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.

He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…

The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.

Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.

And he does pray.

It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.

He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.

When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.

He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.

“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.

He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.

König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.

His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.

She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.

She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.

When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.

Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.

One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.

A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.

His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.

Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.

“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”

No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.

“I want to taste you.”

With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.

He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.

The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.

He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.

His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.

Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.

He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.

Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.

She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.

A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.

The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”

It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.

———

They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.

His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.

When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.

She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.

The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.

[writingwisterias]

Day 23: Praise Kink

ID! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Praise Kink, Training, Gun, Training room sex Masterlist

Of course, Leon had noticed your training had begun to slip, he was dragging himself to the shooting range with you every morning. No matter how hard he tried your score never increased. He could see your confidence slipping as the other recruits began to notice your low score. If he wanted to find you he was sure you were in the shooting range. You tried everything you could to get better and yet the more your confidence slipped so did your score. He could see the fire of ambition slowly die inside of you and decided enough was enough. 

He hated being awake so early, especially after he spent the night in some stupid bar he stumbled into. At least you were thankful for the extra attention he was offering. He saw you standing outside the door to the shooting range, two coffees held in your hands as you looked off into the distance. Your headphones looked like earmuffs over your head as you wrapped up warm to fight the winter chill. It was early enough the range would be empty, none of the agents assigned to training groups of recruits would be arriving any time soon, and the sky was still dark. Your frame is highlighted dimly with the street lamps. 

Your smile was brighter than any lingering stars as you saw him. Your sweater-covered hand holding out the hot drink to him. “I needed one so I thought you might as well” You spoke. He could hear your music as you pulled the headphones away from your head, they now hung around your neck. “Keep listening to music at that volume you won't need any ear protection when shooting” Leon teased. His heart fluttered at your shy smile blush coating your cheeks as your hands began rummaging your pockets for your phone to lower the volume.  

Easing into the training wasn’t the hard thing, it was just your aim. It was even worse than before everyone started teasing, Leon predicted the constant bullying from everyone else was a direct result. So instead of following the methods of all the other agents assigned to this task, he took a kinder approach. Hoping his praise and chilled-out attitude would help you relax and not overthink. It worked to his credit; your aim was improving and your score was slowly increasing. Yet your mind loved the extra attention Leon gave you, heart fluttering at every adjustment he would step closer to do. His rewarding words heading to other areas. 

You jumped slightly as he stepped closer to readjust your grip, his eyebrows pinching in confusion as his hands touched your hip. “You good? I didn’t mean to make you jump” Leon spoke. His breath tickled your neck causing you to flinch slightly, blush coating your cheeks as you felt bad for your reactions. You knew it was because you had woken up earlier than normal, your toy in your nightstand finding its purpose yet again after another dream of Leon fucking you. Having to face him after such a graphic dream was tough, his close proximity didn’t help either. 

“I’m good sorry, I don't know why I’m so jumpy today..must have been a dream I had” You half laughed. Leon clearly assumed it was a nightmare the way he nodded, silently agreeing with you. “I’m here if you want to talk about it. We have time before the others show up” 

He was too kind for his own good sometimes, his caring nature making him all the more alluring to him. You could have made up something, some random nightmare but Leon was smarter than that. He would have clocked on instantly. Instead, you chose the cheap side and said you didn’t want to talk about it. Leon just raised an eyebrow. 

“Our training sessions are a safe space for everything and anything…Do you trust me?” 

Your heart stuttered unable to think of a reply faster than the hot flush set in. “I do trust you…it’s just…just complicated” You muttered, your arms crossing over your chest as you met his gaze. You felt so small and shy like you were about to be scolded by a teacher. Once that was always nice to you and then you suddenly get into their bad books. “Complicated how?” Leon asked, his body now resting on the bench - nudging ammo out of the way to set his arms beside him. His hands looked so good, flexed over the edge of the table. His veins were now more prominent. They always looked well-kept. “Something on my hands?” he laughed meeting your eyeline. You broke out of your trance shaking your head. “No No, they just look good” 

“My hands?” 

God you were just making this worse. Digging yourself deep into a hole you weren’t sure you could get out of. Leon smirked, his teasing attitude written all over his face. He had already caught you out on your own lie, your body language speaking volumes over your words. Leon stood up, sauntering over to your stuttering form, his hands landing on your shoulders instantly calming you. “Do you ever relax?” He chuckled. Leon was so close, yet there was no gun in your hand. He was voluntarily in your space. “It’s hard to relax sometimes” You muttered back, hand rubbing the back of your neck nervously as you met his eyes. Leon chuckled, his face inches from yours. “Let me help you” 

He watched your features for any rejection, giving you time to process his request. His grin grew when he saw it, the subtle nod of your head. His lips were softer than you originally thought they would be as they landed on yours. They worked in sync perfectly with yours. His presence was dominating demanding control which you gladly gave him. Leon spun you around, walking you back towards the shelf he was just perched on. You worked on removing your leggings, whilst he focused on his trousers. The kiss never broke. 

He only broke it to hoist you up on the shelf, his body spreading your legs as he invaded your space. “You impressed me today. Seems our 1-1 time is working” 

Leon tasted like the coffee you had given him this morning mixed with the faint taste of whiskey he drank last night. It was intoxicating. Your tongue already craving more. His compliments melted your brain as his lips muttered them against your neck. Blemishes making themselves known with the sting he left behind. Leon sunk his cock inside of you with a groan. Your walls instantly welcome him, warming him. “Fuck..pretty girl having such a perfect cunt” He grunted as he began to move. 

He made sure you felt every inch, his hips pistoning inside you at such an insane speed. Leon’s hand gripped at your thighs, holding one over his hip as the other hand gripped at your head bringing you in for another kiss. Leon was bold and passionate with you. Worshipping every clench, moan or whimper you gave him as he continued to fuck you. “Such a good girl, I should reward you like this all the time and then maybe you’ll be the best agent there is” 

Your brain faltered at creating any form of a coherent response, the letters jumbling up as your head fell against his shoulder. His praise continued to tighten the coil in your stomach, almost ready to snap. “Be a good girl and cum before the others arrive, I want to feel it around my cock” 

He groaned loudly as you finally snapped, your cum instantly coating his cock coating his trousers. The forces of your orgasm caused his. He moaned as your legs tightened around him, trapping him inside as he coated your walls. “There's more if you break your record in front of the rest of them” 

“Seems like a worthy reward”

Taglist: @kasueli@luvrgreyy@michellekmsh@miss0giarra@cinnabunnysavvy@redollface@my-loved-figure-skates@luvlouiee@drawboo22@moth-quasar@nyxxoxo@crazy-b1tch

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Pyramid Headcanons

Warnings: Possessive Behaviour, Unhealthy Behaviour, Pyramid also exists in the version of Silent Hill before the Church Bell Rings, Mention of Physical Attack on Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Possessive ahh monster man.

Keeps you in a safe, isolated location far from the epicentre of the town so that the only monster you’re at risk of is him.

Scary dog privileges :>

Does anything and everything you ask him to, no matter how trivial the task. Unless you ask him to let you go outside.

Even if the other creatures aren’t wandering around and prowling the streets at that moment, he refuses to let you out.

Unless you give him the puppy dog eyes, which, to his absolute confusion, he found himself unable to resist.

But only once.

You used Pyramid’s weakness for cuteness against him and, when he heard a sound in the distance – the all-too familiar ringing of church bells – and turned to face the origin, you took your chance to escape.

You knew the monsters would come as the world around you peeled, revealing a hellish, rust-ridden, infested reality which, in your terror-stricken state, you didn’t think you’d be around long enough to be at risk of.

Of course, you were cornered.

Of course, just as you were about to become a commemorative name and face on a t-shirt at the hands of a monstrosity, Pyramid Head stepped in and wiped that jittering, straight-jacketed bastard off every map there was, physical and spectral.

Much like the very day he met you. Took you (for what purpose, you still do not know).

He’s never let you out of his sight since.

Keeps you by his side when he’s on a supply run since he can’t trust you to remain in the safety of whatever building he’s fortified.

You might not know it, given his involuntarily stoicism, but Pyramid Head is constantly watching you.

Sure, you may get the feeling you’re being watched, but in a town like Silent Hill, that’s practically a birthright.

And besides, Pyramid doesn’t have any eyes…you think ? So how can he possibly be watching you ?

If you try to chance your arm and run away, he uses his knife as a deterrent.

Slams it down right where you’d be if you had been a second quicker.

He’d never hit you. Not intentionally.

His strength and eternity of wielding the blade makes it as easy to control it as if it were his arm, or an extra limb.

But you don’t need to know that.

He’s lowkey a sucker for physical contact btw.

Once, he found you standing closer to him than usual when the day grew particularly cold.

He wasn’t sure what you were doing at first until you flat-out muttered about “How frigid” it was.

Clouds seemed to form before your face, a human anomaly Pyramid hadn't witnessed this close before. If ever.

This man has no clue how to help you, so he just kind of watched as you gave him a wide-eyed look and, quivering, approaching him as if he were a feral dog (why did you look so scared of him…?), leaned against his side.

He shifted, jumped, stepped back.

What was this feeling ?

His heart spiked, his skin prickled.

Alarmed, you sprang back, and he couldn’t articulate the response to tell you to stay, come back, I’m sorry.

When the two of you finally resumed your journey to nowhere, he walked a little closer to you, inching nearer every few minutes until his hand brushed your side.

And you didn’t pull away :> !

Eventually, when you grew tired, you settled in a decrepit little room that, much like the rest of the town, looked as if it would fall apart if you so much as gave it a mean look.

In a rare act of humanity, Pyramid sat beside you.

And he damn near jumped out of his skin (again) when, unprovoked, you leaned against him.

He made sure not to spook you. Not again.

He couldn’t handle that wounded stare you’d given him earlier. It made him feel…weak. Vulnerable. Human.

And he did not enjoy it.

Well, that's what he thought at first. Before the warmth of something unidentifiable settled in his chest.

From then on, he started taking you out during the colder hours of the day just for the chance to have your skin brush against his.

And each time, that feeling, that tightness in his chest, would spark, set him alight with a fluttering sensation he'd never known before he found you.

Until you got sick. Then he toned it down a little.

But only because he couldn’t enjoy his solitary walks to where he knew medicine lay, too concerned with wondering why you were jerking, and why you sounded like you were roaring whenever you opened your mouth and your eyes squeezed shut, or why liquid would pour out of your nose.

Bless him, he doesn’t know what a cold – or sickness – is. But he does know that, when you lay on top of him and basically used him as your bed, curling up on his chest, he thought he’d seen light.

Real light.

Has resisted the urge to try and make you ill again just for that purpose.

Luckily, your random acts of affection – hand holding (or finger holding, since your entire hand could wrap around one of his fingers),  nuzzling, leaning on him, saying “Thank you” whenever he returned with the supplies – keeps his unhealthy tendencies at bay.

Well, most of them at least.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[zablife]

hello, i have a request for benny where he introduces his girl to the vandals for the first time.

one of them is already a good friend of her, but he didn’t know the person she was seeing was benny (and maybe benny gets a bit possessive)

Ty for the request, lovely! It's my first for The Bikeriders so I couldn't wait to dive in. I used your idea plus the GIF above as inspo to create drama, plus a little heat with our fave man. I hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts!

Rumors

18+ MDNI

Warnings: language, possessiveness, semi public sex

A/N: If you haven't seen the film, it might help to know: 1-Johnny doesn't like to share Benny and 2-Cal's first language is French.

"Heard a little somethin' about your girl you might want to know," Johnny rasped, allowing his words to dissipate into the air on a lungful of smoke.

Benny signaled his interest by leaning forward slightly in his chair, brow furrowed as he thought of anything about you that would warrant a private conversation with the leader of the Vandals. All he could think of at that moment was how eager he'd been to show you off to the guys, an obvious note of pride swelling in his chest each time he uttered your name.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he finally asked, "Yeah, what's that?" Though he had tried to hide his concern behind a facade of cool detachment, the slight twitch of his hand when he raised his cigarette to his lips gave him away.

If it had been a game of poker, Johnny could have recognized the bluff from a mile away. He bit back a sly grin, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words for maximum damage.

"Let's just say she ain't no stranger here," he hinted, eyeing Benny carefully to gauge the effect it had on the impulsive young man. Watching Benny's fists clench at his sides, he swiftly added, "Especially not to Cal."

As if on cue, Benny's blue eyes flashed with an ominous darkness. "What are you talkin' about?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Hissing in Benny's ear like a venomous serpent, Johnny advised, "Don't let her make a fool out of ya. That's all I'm sayin."

Benny's shoulders began to stiffen tightly beneath his leather jacket and Johnny clapped him on the back before abandoning him to his rapidly spiraling jealousy.

You could practically feel the floor shake with the stomp of his boots before you heard the low rumble of his voice calling your name. The tenderness he'd affected an hour ago was gone, replaced by a gruffness which commanded you, "C'mon, baby."

You stared at him wild eyed, wondering what had gotten into him. "N-now? We just got here," you stuttered.

He nodded, taking you firmly by the hand and you decided not argue while his rings pressed into your flesh.

As his friends hooted and whistled, you exited the bar out into the warm summer night. The relative quiet of the street amplified Benny's voice as he asked, "When were you gonna tell me?"

Stumbling off the front step together, he brought you face to face with him, sapphire eyes gleaming with fire. However, you immediately sensed a note of hurt in his accusation.

"Tell you what?" you begged, still uncertain what had him so worked up.

"About you and Cal," he prodded, watching a flash of recognition pass over your face in damning confirmation.

"Don't try to deny it," he warned, dropping your arm to pace the darkened alley beside the bar. Running his hands through his hair in distress, he'd clearly begun thinking the worst when you remained silent.

You struggled to recall who else knew about your acquaintance with Cal, then suddenly you understood, a long sigh pushing from your lungs as you recalled what Kathy had told you about Johnny's dislike of girlfriends hanging around. He said nagging wives took the guys away from the club when the crack ups and late nights began to threaten their relationships. You closed your eyes and shook your head, realizing he’d probably been the one to upset Benny.

"Say somethin'...please," Benny begged, waiting for you to open your eyes to him.

You twisted your fingers in front of you as you finally confessed, "Yeah, I know Cal." Watching Benny hang his head at your admission, you clarified, "Well...I knew the scrawny kid who took English lessons with me a few years ago. I barely recognize him now with that wild hair and that earring." You huffed out a quiet laugh at the thought of it, stopping Benny's nervous movements as he listened to the angelic sound.

He splayed a palm against the cool brick, glancing over his shoulder at you hopefully.

You nodded at him confirming,"That's all it ever was, baby." His chest heaved a sigh of relief as you came to stand at his side. Ducking under his strong arm, you ran a hand down the side of his scruffy cheek and brought his gaze back to you. "I'm yours, Benny. Nobody else's, you understand?"

A low growl rumbled from his lips as he pressed you against the wall, lips seeking yours for the physical reassurance he so badly needed.

His mouth moved against yours insistently, desperate for more and your hands flew to his hair, tugging in wanton desire. As your breasts pushed against his chest, he couldn't help deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue and before either of you could contain it, passion overtook you.

Benny turned you to face the wall and raised your skirt over your ass, tugging your underwear aside eager to claim you. Your breath hitched as you heard the jingle of his belt and you quickly braced yourself against the wall for what was to come. Without a care for who might disturb you, he took you right there, hips pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Tell me one more time, sweetheart," he urged breathlessly, sucking a dark bruise into your neck that would become irrefutable proof.

"I'm-I'm yours...I belong...belong to you, Ben--," you panted through little shocks of pleasure, unable to continue as you came hard around him.

"S right," he agreed, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans of pleasure. Giving into your vice like grip, he tumbled over the edge with you, heartbeat hammering against your back in exhaustion.

You reached for him in the darkness, clutching the back of his head to keep him close. He stayed inside you for a long, tender moment afterward, placing scattered kisses behind your ear. You might have stayed that way longer if not for your ticklishness and exposed location. So with a hiss, he begrudgingly withdrew from you and gently lowered your skirt.

In the afterglow, Benny smiled at you with a cockeyed grin, tucking himself inside his jeans. The dewy flush of your cheeks making his heart skip a beat, he leaned in for one last kiss as you heard the door to the bar open and release the sounds of boisterous laughter.

Several bikers emerged, Johnny leading the way to the row of choppers parked at the curb. As he strutted toward his bike, a haphazard glance was thrown your way before doing a double take.

You weren't sure if you should scream at him or thank him for the rumor he'd attempted to spread about you and Cal, seeing how it had actually brought you closer to Benny.

When your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to the top of your head, you decided it wasn't worth arguing about. With a smirk and a little wave, you forced Johnny to acknowledge you, making it clear you weren't leaving Benny's side anytime soon.

[klausysworld]

(This one’s only short but I still just wanted to post something)

New Daddies

Klaus and Elijah hadn't ever been too great at sharing. They were both men who knew what they wanted and would fight to. have it just for themselves.

But Y/N was something they quickly forgot all that for.

She was just so perfect, she never seemed to hold any judgement for them. It hadn't taken long for them to discover that she was a little. It was obvious from the moment they'd met.

Poor thing, the brothers had been storming through New Orleans, wiping by without a care for pedestrians when they smacked right into her. Her milkshake was completely wasted and her bottom hit the floor with a cry of shock and pain leaving her lips.

Usually they'd just keep walking but Elijah stopped. and looked down which drew Klaus's attention too as he turned back on his heel.

Y/N's eyes were full of not yet fallen tears and her sweet nose was twitching between sniffles. Klaus watched silently as Elijah gently helped her up and removed his jacker, placing it over her shoulders and doing the buttons up to cover her dress which was now ruined with milkshake.

"Poor thing..." He muttered and Klaus's lip twitched.

"We'll have to get her some new clothes, and a new drink." Klaus announced with a smirk and placed his hand on the small of her back.

It was clear that the girl was in no mindset to consider it odd how two strangers were touching her gently and guiding her down the street, talking to her in simple sentences so she could nod or shake her head.

It was as though, just like that, whatever death was about to stumble into their clutches was disregarded. Instead they were in a dress shop, Y/N on Elijah's knee whilst Klaus consulted with a stylist and picked out a few pieces himself.

"Come with me, little love, lets get you into something clean." He coaxed, taking her hand in his as she slid down from Elijah's thigh and wondered over to him, her other hand holding her two fingers near her mouth as she nibbled nervously at her nails. Klaus pulled them away form her lips and took her behind to the changing rooms, leaving Elijah to make some calls so that people knew they were out for the day.

Y/N's head leant against his chest as he shimmied the old dress from her body, his hands and eyes eager to get her in her underwear. A little groan left him as her perky little breasts were left braless. "Oh my love..." He murmured and stroked her soft skin, her shoulders and arms before his palms cupped each breast. Her lashes fluttered before she looked up at him through them, an innocence he hadn't seen in such a long time shining back at him.

"It's cold, Daddy." She whispered and a soft rumble vibrated in his chest.

"You're right little love, it's cold. Let Daddy dress you now." He smiled, grinned, and picked the first dress he'd chosen from the hanger and slipped it up her body. "Turn for me, baby." He purred and she did, her back now to him so that he could do her up. "There, what do you think, hm?" He questioned, his hands on her hips as he looked at her through the mirror.

Her head nodded almost shyly and he smiled, leaning down to kiss the side of her face. "We're taking you home with us, you'd like that wouldn't you little one?" Klaus murmured to her and she leant her head back against his chest, tilting her head back to look up at him. His lips pulled to a smirk and he hummed. "Lets show Elijah hm?" He encouraged, wrapping his arm round her waist to lead her from the changing room.

"Is that my other Daddy?" She asked and he chuckled.

"You learn fast, love." He grinned and lifted her, placing her down in front of his brother who was now out of his seat and examining their little girl thoroughly.

"Beautiful." He uttered, his hands skimming over her skin and the fabric of the dress.

She went home with them easily, ate the food they gave her, watched the movies they picked and let them change her into a pair of Elijah's boxers and one of Klaus's shirts before being tucked into a bed with them both either side of her body.

"Go to sleep little one, you're our baby girl now."

Y/N woke up between them every morning, stayed between them every day and laid back between them every night.

She would continue to do so, always and forever.

[milla-frenchy]

911

1k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you and Joel go out on a rainy night. His protective side turns you on Warnings: 18+ mdni. teasing, footplay, dirty talk, rough sex, piv, oral (m). Light violence (not towards reader). Reader’s hair can be pulled.  No age specified, no outbreak a/n: couple from the 5 days collection. Can be read alone. This is for the April showers challenge by @undercoverpena Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕

Series masterlist | Masterlist

***********

You and Joel were having dinner at a restaurant. Night had already fallen, and the rain was painting the city streets in darker shades. While waiting for dessert, you breathed out on the window and drew a heart. You smiled shyly, and Joel thought you were the sweetest woman he had ever met. When you slid your shoeless foot from his calf to his crotch, he thought that you were also the sexiest woman he had ever met.

“We haven’t tested this bathroom yet, Joel,” you said, gently stroking your lip with your index finger. Your shy smile was forgotten, giving way to another kind of smile. Without taking his eyes off you, he grabbed your foot and pressed it against his shaft.

“Nah. Wanna make you scream on my cock tonight. I can’t give it to you good here, baby. Wanna do it right.”

Your pussy clenched, and you tried to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure between them. But he didn’t release your foot, smirking as he saw you grimace in your chair.

The waiter set down your desserts, cutting off the conversation momentarily. You brought the spoon to your mouth, keeping it in longer than necessary.

“Mmm…that’s the best flavor I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

He looked at you, his narrowed eyes glinting.

“Is that right?”

His eyes moved down from yours to your lips, and he pressed your foot tighter against his cock. He grabbed his glass with his free hand and took a sip. It looked tiny between his fingers. And you couldn't help but think about moments when he would push them into your pussy and make you come on them. You tried to calm down as his grin widened. Of course he knew exactly what you were thinking about. You cleared your throat and asked: “are you jealous of a spoon, Mr. Miller?”

“I think I could be jealous of just about anything that comes near you, sweetheart.”

You smiled and took another spoonful.

You walked out of the restaurant and headed towards the parking lot. Joel had his arm around your shoulder, yours was around his waist. The rain started to fall again and you took shelter under a porch of one of the buildings. Joel hugged you and kissed you, his big hands squeezing your ass under your dress. You whined, eager to finally be home and feel his naked body against yours. Two men approached, and one of them said, “nice ass, wanna share?” Joel turned towards them, fists clenched.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He stood in front of you, interposing himself between you and them. They were young. Early twenties.

“I said," Nice ass, wanna share?”. Are you deaf, man?”

Neither he nor you had time to anticipate what happened next. When Joel punched him, you heard a bone crack and the man knelt on the ground. The one who accompanied him approached, hesitantly.

“Get the fuck outta here, kid. Or I ain’t gonna break just this asshole’s nose.”

The guy looked at his friend and ran away. Joel glanced down at the kneeling man, then back at you. Tilting his chin towards you, asking silently if you were ok. You nodded. Joel looked around, and saw a piece of wood on the ground. He grabbed it, before approaching the young man. He held out his hands and shouted “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” I'm sorry!!" before getting up and running away too.

Joel dropped the piece of wood and moved closer to you, covered your cheeks with his hands, and asked “are you ok, sweetheart?”

“I…fuck, yeah. I think so. What the fuck is wrong with these guys?!”

He took your hand, and said “yeah, I know baby, but it’s ok now. Come on, we can’t stay here.”

You ran to another street under the heavy rain, and Joel didn't keep his eyes off the surroundings. Finally you arrived at the underground tunnel and stopped at the stairs. You were soaked by the rain.

“Okay, let’s wait here until the rain calms down a bit”, he said.

He held you close, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how he protected you, his cool control of the situation, as if he had never doubted his superiority over them. You kissed him, your tongue sliding between his lips. You pressed yourself against him, and slipped your hand between your two bodies and put it on his crotch.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his piercing gaze searching for yours. You looked up at him and your stare left no doubt about what you desired.

“Fuck…Did that turn you on?”

You nodded, stroking his cock through his jeans. He was already hard.

“Claim me”, you said.

“What? Claim…here?”

“Yeah, fuck me here. Now. I need it.”

He held your chin between his fingers, trying to read you again. Searching for an ounce of hesitation. But there wasn't any. You slipped your hand into your panties and collected your slick on your fingers before showing him your hand. He took your hand in his and licked your fingers. He groaned. “Shit, ok. ‘m gonna fuck you here, if you want it that bad.” 

He turned you around, pinning you against the cold wall of the tunnel. His fingers eagerly unzipped his jeans before releasing his hard cock. He grabbed your hips, pulling them towards him. He pulled up your dress and pushed your panties to the side, before sliding his fingers along your soaked slit. He hissed through his teeth.

“You’re the filthiest girl I’ve ever known.”

He grabbed his cock in his hand and barely slid it between your folds. You held your breath, ready to feel his cock sink into your core. You wanted him to own you. He bottomed out in one go, and your cheek rubbed against the stone.

“Fuckin’...tight,” he grunted. “That’s what you want? Being railed in a tunnel at night?”

“Yes, fuck….”

“I'm sure you'd like someone to catch us here. So that some guy could see you, hear you moan while you're getting fucked. Let him see that you’re fuckin’ mine.”

He grabbed your hair in his tight fist, and started fucking you hard, grunting every time he thrust.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah, you know I’d love that.” His hand released your hair and it slid down along your breasts, down to your panties.

“Yeah...You’re gonna come on it, now. Wanna feel this pussy clenching me.”

His finger rolled over your clit, as his cock kept pounding you.

“Damn, been hard since the restaurant and the show you gave me there. Fuck.”

He fucked you fast and hard, not letting his fingers leave your clit even for a second. His cock was brushing your g-spot continuously, and you felt your orgasm building. This mixture of pleasure and pain, his cock brutally parting your folds every time he thrust in, his fingers on you. He knew for a long time how to make you cum in a few minutes. When you clenched his cock, your moans echoed in the tunnel. 

You pulled away from him and got down on your knees, your dress falling down your thighs.

“Claim me,” you said again, your eyes raised to him.

“Fuck,” he said, quickly jerking his entire length in front of your face. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, waiting. Your eyes were fixed on each other.

“Shit…gonna paint your face.”

He grunted when the first spurts of cum hit your lips, tongue and chin, and he placed his tip on your tongue for the next two spurts. Your eyes were still fixed on him.

He thrust into your mouth, and you felt him twitch again, until he emptied his balls completely. He rested his hand against the wall so as not to lose his balance as you sucked his cock, swallowing his hot load.

“Fuck, baby….” he was trying to catch his breath, while you were keeping his throbbing cock in the warmth of your mouth.

Finally, he grabbed your elbow, helped you up and kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue. You heard the sirens of an ambulance in the distance. He tucked his cock in his pants, took your hand, and you two walked towards the parking lot.

“Told you I wanna make you scream on my cock, tonight. Come on, I’m not done with ya.”

***************

Same couple : 5 days collection

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[sluttyten]

By the Moon

Kinktober Day 1 | Hendery Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: werewolf!Hendery, kinda dubious consent at first, stalking, hunter/prey, fingering, belly bulging, big!Hendery

length: 3,021 words

The forest was quiet and dark, but you knew it was useless. Neither the dark nor staying quiet to your best ability was going to protect you. You were being stalked by something equal parts beast and man.

First you’d seen him earlier in the day while you did your grocery shopping. He’d been at the meat counter, chatting with the butcher about certain cuts of meat while you waited nearby for your turn to ask about getting the freshest cuts of pork belly. You’d seen him again a short while later as you took your dog to the dog park; he’d leaned against the fence and watched the dogs scamper and bark and play with each other, though you later realized that they all veered away from the place he stood watch.

And then this evening, you’d gone out with friends to dinner and then out for drinks afterward. He’d been outside the restaurant, and the way that he scanned the area, his face tilted up into the wind, it reminded you of a predator hunting its prey, scenting the wind.

Lastly, you’d been drinking at the bar together with your friends when the man entered the place, and as soon as his eyes fell on you, the strangest sensation flooded through you — a deadly combination of fear and lust.

He was handsome, exactly your type. But undeniably there was something in his gaze that unsettled you. It was like he was looking for you.

Part of yourself was determined to believe that he wasn’t truly there because he was stalking you but rather because this is a small town and you just happen to be running into each other repeatedly. He waits across the bar, nursing a drink, watching whatever sports game is playing on the TVs, glancing your way sometimes, which you’re equally guilty of.

The true issue comes when you get up to go use the restroom. He rises to his feet as well. He’s watching you, gaze fixed, and as you walk hurriedly to the restroom in the back hall, he stalks across the opposite side of the room.

Instead of actually going into the restroom, you all but run along the hall, pushing out the back emergency exit door.

A few bar patrons stand around the back door smoking cigarettes, and you flee through the cloud of pungent smoke. You slip down the back alley, out onto the street.

Behind you, the smokers grumble loudly, and you glance back in time to see your handsome stalker stepping through the thick smoke that hangs stagnant in the air. His head turns to you.

You bolt.

Adrenaline has your heart racing, arms and legs pumping as you run down Main Street, as you turn down side streets, trying to put distance between you and the man hunting you.

Each time you risk a glance backwards, you see his shadow, his loping strides that are going to catch up to you sooner rather than later, so you turn towards the woods at the edge of town, certain that you’ll be able to lose him among the trees.

The full moon haunts you through the town's streets, casting long shadows and that shift in your peripheral, making you think he's caught up to you, urging you to move faster until finally you're under the cover of the woods at the edge of town.

You know he's prowling through the shadows, under the rattling branches limned in moonlight. Even once you're deep in the woods, far from the lights of town, you don't dare make a sound.

You crouch down in the deep shadow of a large cedar, clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your panting breaths.

"Little bunny!" A rich, tantalizing voice rings through the trees, and you know without a doubt that it's him. "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

You stay exactly where you are. Maybe if you stay still, stay silent, he'll stop looking.

As if he can read your mind, your hunter calls out, "I have no plans of stopping any time soon. I caught your scent earlier today, bunny." His voice moves through the trees as he searches for you. "I've followed you around town, watching you look my way as if you couldn't decide if I'm going to try to bed you or eat you."

Unbidden, the thoughts rise in your mind, born again by the dangerous combination of lust and fear. He's talking about eating you, and your only thought is of his head between your thighs, those pretty eyes you'd glimpsed earlier looking up at you while he eats you out, your back against the rough bark of this tree behind you.

"That's right, bunny," he says, "keep thinking about me. You smell so sweet, and even sweeter still when you're aroused."

What the fuck? You squeeze your thighs together.

"The moon is full tonight, sweetheart, and my senses are heightened." The hunter's voice rumbles, and you can hear the growl buried beneath. "Every change in your scent, every uptick of your heart rate, each time your breath catches when you imagine my tongue...."

You press your shoulders back against the tree trunk.

"Where are you imagining my tongue, bunny? Or are you fantasizing about my fingers wrapping around your pretty little throat?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, the fantasy playing out across your eyelids. You feel his phantom hand on your throat, the ghost of his tongue tracing the line of your jaw.

A warm breeze runs over your cheek, and when you open your eyes, a whimper falls from your lips.

The man -- no, surely a werewolf -- stands before you with golden eyes and a hungry smile. "I've got you, bunny. There's nowhere left to run."

He's even more handsome up close. His hair is silky black, his face carved from marble, and in the pursuit, his shirt has fallen open revealing his toned chest and abdomen. Everything about this man makes him the perfect enticement to draw you in as prey.

He crouches down in front of you, and you don't move even when he stretches out a hand, when he pinches a lock of your hair between his fingers. He leans in even closer, bringing the lock of hair to his nose, and he breathes in.

"Fuck, bunny, I've got to have you."

Again, a whimper falls from your lips. This time it's less from fear than it is from lust. You want him, even if he followed you out here, even if he scares you a bit.

Your hands tremble when you reach for the edges of his shirt, and his smile grows as you push at the material until it slides from his shoulders.

"I'm going to swallow you whole, bunny," he rasps, "But if we hurry before the moon reaches its zenith, I might let you go free after we're finished."

Overhead through the tree branches, you can make out the silvery orb climbing slowly higher in the sky.

The werewolf's nose touches your cheek. "Call me Hendery, sweetheart."

"Hendery," you sigh. His mouth brushes along your jaw, down your throat, and your last bits of fear holding you back dissolve into the night. He can do whatever he wants with you.

Hendery nips at your neck, drawing an involuntary moan from deep in your throat. You clutch at his exposed arms, sliding one palm up over the curve of his bicep, his shoulder, along the back of his neck until your fingers bury in his soft black hair. He kisses your throat, licking and sucking over your pulse point, winding you up like you're a music box that plays only the sound of your moans.

Hendery's fingers make quick work of your clothes -- untucking your top from your pants, unfastening the button and tugging down the zipper of your pants. He tears your shirt open, leaving it fluttering from your shoulders, exposing your bra.

You dig your nails into his skin, listening to the growl that rumbles through his chest. The sound does nothing but increase the pulse of heat between your legs.

"Hendery, please!" You whine, "Please, give it to me."

He draws his mouth away from your throat. His golden eyes gleam in the dark, and when he smiles, you swear his canines are sharper than they were before. "You want me to fuck you, bunny?"

"Yes, Hendery." And you mean it wholeheartedly, with your whole pussy, too.

The ground is damp, covered in dead leaves and sticks, and wet black soil sticks to your palms and your knees when Hendery suddenly flips you over and drags your hips up.

The rest of your shirt is torn away. He somehow managed to drag your pants down to your ankles in the same move. He fists a hand in your hair, draws the other down your spine -- your bra's clasp snaps, and you swear you feel the prickle of a claw just above your tailbone before your panties shred, leaving you entirely exposed to him.

"Perfect, bunny. Look at you, all wet and ready for my cock." Hendery all but purrs with satisfaction, and then he presses two fingers into your wet pussy without warning. "Fuck, your so soft and wet and warm, sweetheart. You smell even sweeter than I imagined."

You curl your fingers into the detritus of the forest floor, searching for something to hold onto reality with as Hendery pumps and curls his fingers inside you, immediately finding the spot inside you that makes your world spin.

You gasp, rocking your hips back, needing more and deeper.

Hendery lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, encouraging you with small sounds of delight and praises. He keeps moving his fingers just right to press against your G-spot, and it's not long before you can feel that tightening tingle in your belly, can feel your breath coming faster, your heart racing, every part of you anticipating the sweet release of your orgasm.

His fingers fall away, and you push back regardless with a cry.

Hendery chuckles, smacking his hand down on your bare ass. "Patience, bunny. You didn't think I was going to let you have all the fun, did you? What kind of wolf would I be if I didn't play with my food a little before I eat you?"

You look back over your shoulder at him just in time to watch Hendery pop his two fingers glistening with your wetness into his mouth. He sucks the taste of you from the digits, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors your flavor.

The moon sits high overhead, flooding silver light down through the trees. Hendery's definitely got some more canine characteristics now -- sharper teeth, his eyes even more golden and bloodshot, his nails are sharper and darker, hair is filling in on his chest.

He moans around his fingers, and then he's reaching back down to swipe his wet fingers between your legs again.

"Think you can really take my cock, bunny?" Hendery pushes his fingers back inside you, and your knees nearly buckle with relief. He doesn't even touch your clit, but you're not sure you need it when he's stroking the pads of his fingers over your G-spot. "The full moon is almost at its highest."

"Fuck me!" Your voice is a whine, a plea; you're begging him for his cock inside you.

You hear his pants unzipped, and you risk a glance back to see what's in store for you.

He's huge -- long and thick, uncut -- and suddenly you're wondering what you've gotten yourself into. Is he going to fit, truly? He's going to reach so deep inside you, deeper than anyone you've ever been with before.

"Hendery--"

"Tell me what you want, bunny. Tell me you need my cock." Hendery's golden eyes are fixed on yours. He pulls his fingers away from your needy pussy, putting both of his hands to work stroking his cock.

Your pussy is weeping, your body aching with the need to cum, and you just know that whatever else might happen, Hendery's massive cock is going to give you an absolutely mind-blowing orgasm.

You don't even know what you really say, just that the words spill out of you, begging and pleading, crying about how much you need his cock, how big he is, how deep he's going to be, that you need him in your belly.

Hendery lays one hand against your hip, bruisingly tight as he pulls you back onto his cock. He slides right in, but the stretch is incredible, so tight around him that you nearly bite through your bottom lip to keep from crying out. But it feels just as good as you knew it would.

He keeps going deeper and deeper. Your toes curl when you feel you've reached your limit, when the pleasure borders on paint; your breath comes out in sharp bursts.

"That's it, bunny. You're taking me so well." Hendery's hand leaves your hip to slide beneath your chest, and he pulls you upright, guiding you up so your back is against his chest. "You're so tight around me, I feel like I'm in your belly. Look, sweetheart."

He buries his nose in your hair breathing in your scent while his hand drifts down from your chest, pausing to tease your nipples into sharp peaks, before he lowers his palm down to your belly.

"Look," he repeats, pressing his lips to your hair. "Look at what I'm doing to you, bunny. You're so filled with my cock, I can see myself in your belly."

You force your eyes open, looking down at his hand over your belly, the way that your belly is curving into his palm different than normal. As you watch, Hendery draws his hips back, his thick cock moving, and you watch the bump over your belly shrink a bit. He thrust back in, and holy shit, you feel his tip nudging so deep inside you but there it is, bulging out your belly.

Hendery's other hand flies back up to your chest, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his fingers while he pulls his hips back only to thrust back in again. Your thighs quiver, a taut string is all that's holding you together, and it winds tighter and tighter with each push and pull of his hips, each time he tweaks his fingers on your nipple.

"Good, bunny," he growls against your ear, "Taking my cock like you were made for it. I knew when I scented you this morning that you would be perfect for me." His teeth catch on your earlobe, pulling just as he pinches your nipple, just as he thrusts up against his palm through your belly.

The taut string inside you snaps, your orgasm ricochets through you, chaos reigning inside you for a few moments as the world goes black and silver, tingling and burning everywhere in the best possible way.

When your consciousness slides back into your body minutes or seconds later, Hendery's hand on your chest has risen to your throat, fingers placed exactly right. His other hand has slid to your hip, using it to brace you against him as he releases the last of his inhibitions, he releases the beast, fucking into you with wild abandon.

His cock is just so fucking enormous, pushing visibly against your belly, hitting every sweet spot inside you, it doesn't take long before a second orgasm is rocking through you again.

Hendery lowers you to the ground, the soft damp earth presses all along your front, but you don't even care as Hendery fucks you to his climax, fucking your hips into the ground. A third, final weak orgasm is what finally hooks Hendery, dragging him along for the wild ride.

He cums inside you, so deep inside you that you swear you can taste the bitterness of his cum on the back of your tongue. He presses his sweaty body against yours while your hearts race as one, breaths coming in sync.

It's misery when Hendery peels himself away from you a few minutes later, as he leaves you lying there naked in the mud, wishing that he was still warm and heavy along your back. You're exhausted, but part of you wants to welcome him back inside you, to do this all over again.

Long gone is the fear from earlier in the evening, replaced only with lust and longing for the werewolf.

When you eventually muster the strength to twist around onto your back, the full moon shines at the height of the sky, and a few feet away a sleek black wolf sits, staring at you with familiar golden eyes.

Hendery watches as you sit up, as you gather the scraps of your clothes, as you cast them aside as useless. You're about to get to your feet and just wander back through the forest naked, but that's when he moves. A black shadow at the corner of your eye, the wolf nudges a small mound of fabric that you soon realize are Hendery's discarded clothes.

You pick his shirt up. You slide it on, button it up, and you turn your nose against the collar to catch the heady scent that can only belong to Hendery -- like amber and oak, something a little more wild that you can't identify.

You sit back down, your back to the rough bark of the tree you'd hidden beside earlier. Hendery steps closer, the massive black wolf settling down against your legs, somewhat like a blanket in the increasingly cool night air, but also keeping you pinned in place.

There's not much of a choice in staying or leaving, not with a giant werewolf keeping you there, but maybe it's the right idea to stay here rather than wandering half-naked through the woods at night.

You'll wait here until the morning, by which point hopefully the werewolf will return to human form.

Maybe, now that he's had a taste of you by the moonlight he'd like a second taste in the pure light of day.

a/n: so here it is! day one of kinktober 2024! I'm not certain if I'm actually going to get around to doing every single day this month like I did in 2022 because I've also been re-editing the poly series and have some real life things that I should probably do, but I do have ideas to execute for almost every single day this month, so we'll see!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.

Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.

Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.

Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.

He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.

The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.

His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.

The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.

The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.

Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.

Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.

Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.

He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.

The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.

Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.

Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.

His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.

"What the hell..."

The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.

"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"

The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.

The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.

A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.

“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.

Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.

Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.

“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”

"I-I'm sorry-"

“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.

"Clean up." Al ordered.

Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.

The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."

"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.

Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.

"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."

Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.

He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.

He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.

The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.

That was the case for several days.

The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.

"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”

The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.

You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.

"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."

You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.

"Hey!" He complained.

"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"

"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.

You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.

“It depends, are you done with those?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."

When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.

You never do anything right

Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.

After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.

His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.

His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."

You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.

He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.

What is wrong with you?

Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.

Useless, fucking useless.

"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.

He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.

Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.

"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."

Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.

You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.

"But-"

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”

Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.

Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.

He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.

His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.

“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”

Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.

He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.

In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.

When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.

When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.

His dad was no longer part of his life.

You were. And you loved him.

Eddie didn't need anything else.

A "thank you" was whispered during the night.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[redsrooftopprincess]

When do you think Raph makes love to you and when does he give it to you rough and make you whimper with your tongue out?

Hope this is okay, sorry it took so long. Asks are going sloooooowwwww.... 😅

Hot Blood

AFAB Fem Reader x Raphael

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Property Damage 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Raphael is a creature of extremes.

He's the biggest and the strongest on the street, and the softest when he hangs up his gear. He'll push you to the limit in the weight room like a god damn drill instructor, and then praise you and kiss away all your soreness the next morning.

When the two of you finally figure your shit out ("two years, we could have been doing this for TWO YEARS 😫"), you discover pretty quickly that that particular personality trait also extends to the bedroom.

There's is very little middle ground with him. Either he's worshipping you, or he's fucking you into the mattress, and there is no in between. "Casual sex" is something he's heard about, but he doesn't really understand. Like taxes. He gets that it's a thing that happens to other people, but he's pretty sure he's happier not knowing any more about it.

You certainly are.

In the beginning he treated you like you were made of glass. You pretty much had to do all the work until he was comfortable enough with the whole process, and more importantly, until he could be sure he wasn't going to hurt you.

Calloused hands, sliding rough against your soft abdomen, pulling shivers from your skin that you can feel within your fingertips. That same hand between your legs, pressing you against him as he moves in you. Giving as much to you as he is taking.

The quiet strength and precision reminding you, even in the moment, of the dichotomy that these same hands are capable of terrible things.

He had one rule about bringing work home: "Don't." He was never rough with you because he never wanted you to see that side of him. It's the same reason that, no matter how many times you begged, he wouldn't take you out on patrol.

Then you were mugged. We're not going to talk about what happened to the muggers, but it did involve an argument over how many bodies could fit in a trash compactor. It was decided after that you needed to at least learn how to defend yourself.

You'd started training and eventually became skilled enough that you convinced the boys to let you come out on patrol with them.

It had been a slow night, and the lot of you were just about ready to head back to the lair, much to Raphael's relief. He really didn't want you out here in the first place, but everyone else has been helping with your training, and they all seemed to think you were ready. He did too, he just wished you weren't so damn excited about it.

You were just looping back around towards the garage when an alert pinged on Donnie's watch.

"We've got Foot activity. Twelve blocks south."

You brightened up while Raph's stomach twisted. You spun and looked up at Leo.

"Can we go?" You asked excitedly.

He was hesitant, "Street thugs are one thing, (Y/N), but the Foot..."

"Please?"

He cringes, inhaling through his teeth.

Fine. We'll do this the hard way.

"Please? Please can we go? Please? Please Leo? Please? Please can we go? Please? Please? Please? Not gonna stop till you say yes. Please Leo? Please? Please? Plea-"

"OKAY FINE! "

"Yay!" You clap your hands and bounce like a five-year-old. Raph tenses as you make for the Southern edge of the rooftop.

Leo turns to Casey. "Is this what it's like having a little sister?"

"Yes." Casey replies deadpan, not looking at Leo, as he exhaustedly watches his sister parkour her way to the adjacent rooftop.

That was the night Raphael got a taste of how much you could take. There were a few sticky moments, but creativity and quick thinking got you out of them without issue.

At one point he stopped fighting entirely just to watch you, agape.

After the fight was over, and all the way back home, he was quiet. Not silent, he wasn't rude or off-putting, but he gripped your hand tightly, and said very little. You assumed he was upset about the fact that you were in the fight at all.

That night, after you were both cleaned up, you were sitting on the bathroom counter with him treating your split lip. He was still quiet.

He dabbed at your mouth with antiseptic, not meeting your eyes. You reached up and wrapped a small hand around his wrist to still his movements.

"Are you upset with me?" You asked. You were worried about this, that he would have a problem with you being out there. He never wanted you involved in this part of his life.

He twisted his hand to take your wrist and kissed it, still not looking at you. "No," he'd said softly, before returning the hand to your lap and finishing his work.

Five and a half minutes later, you were walking into your bedroom and he was closing the door behind you.

Once the lock engaged, he placed a hand on the seam between the door and the wall and remained with his back to you. You could see his deep breathing in the rise and fall of his carapace, and the muscles in his shoulders flexed with tension.

"Raph...?" You ventured, hesitantly.

He doesn't move.

"Listen, I know you said you're not upset, but I really feel like maybe we should talk about... oh."

He turned to face you, dark eyes almost flashing in the dim light, and he said nothing, but you could feel the seismic churr in your feet.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, "So... you're not mad, then."

"No..." he said, with his own hidden smile, tossing his towel in the corner without taking his eyes off of you, "not mad..."

This was new, the way he looked at you. Like you were an opponent he was sizing up. You felt his eyes scan over every inch of you. When you shifted your weight, his hands twitched, and you could almost feel them gripping your skin.

The way you fight is so unlike he and his brothers, even though they were the ones who taught you. They have the benefit of strength and size over many of their opponents, but you're fast, and you're clever.

He watched you lead three guys in a dance of such spectacular violence that they ended up bloody without you having to hand a single blow. And when you finally did connect, a smirk turned his lip at the memory and heat flooded his veins, that guy hit the ground hard.

Then you got hit, and he'd immediately taken a fist to the jaw as everything in his mind came to a screeching halt. You hit the ground almost in slow motion and he could smell the blood from your split lip.

Before he could even react, you'd swept that fucker's legs out from under him, and jumped on him, breaking his nose and slamming his head back onto the concrete twice.

Every breath was a bellows as he replayed the fight, watching you dance, and he could feel the blood in his veins boiling.

You didn't stop. You were brutal. Like a tiny whirlwind tearing through the alley. Once it was all over, you looked around, seeming almost disappointed that there were none left. And when you turned your eyes to him with that smug look of self satisfaction...

Fucking hell.

He strode the four steps to you, and you stood your ground, holding his gaze as he grabbed you by the ass and hoisted you up so that your legs were around his waist. He didn't brake stride as you were slammed against the wall and kissed hard.

Picture frames rattled against the wall, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of something shattering below you. His large hands gripped your thighs as he growled and ground himself into you. The realization that there would most likely be bruises later sent white fire spreading through your core.

You pushed off of the wall in a way he wasn't expecting and he stumbled back, falling into the bed and pulling you with him. You straddled his waist and kissed him back just as hard before looking down at him with a wicked smirk at catching him off guard.

A shiver shot down your spine as his eyes narrowed. Before you could react, he hooked his hand under your leg and flipped you on to your stomach, the violent action sending something on the bedside table crashing to the floor. It almost knocked the wind out of you and you clenched around nothing as you landed with a loud grunt.

Reaching up to the waistband of your already soaked pajama shorts, he removed them in one fluid motion before lifting your ass up and pressing his tongue against your folds.

You gasped loudly as his churr reverberated through you. His tongue was relentless. This wasn't foreplay, you'd already done that bit in the alley, this was quick and dirty preparation and nothing more. You could feel his impatience in the way he rutted into the mattress, gripping you hard.

You nearly collapsed as your orgasm crashed over you, his bruising grip being the only thing holding you up.

Giving you no time to recover, he flipped you over, and ripped the drawer from the nightstand, grabbing a spare pocket knife as the drawer crashed somewhere out of sight. A flick of his wrist and your tank top was sliced open and torn from your body. He stopped for just a moment to look down at you, eyes on fire as he drank you in.

But it was just a moment. Lining himself up at your entrance, he buried himself inside you with a groan, before pumping in and out slowly a few times, until your body relaxed around him.

Once he felt you relax, the wicked smirk he gave you made you shiver. Hooking a leg over his hip, he began driving into you so hard the bedframe slammed against the wall. There was another shattering sound and the room was bathed in darkness as the lamp crashed to the ground.

You grabbed hold of the top lip of his plastron and hooked your other leg around his waist, before lifting yourself off the bed and riding him until he rolled both of you over so that you were on top.

Wrapping his hands around your waist, he held you aloft and fucked into you, and the sharp cries of pleasure that he ripped from you only spurred him on. You made a note to find a way to make patrol a regular thing, but that was your last conscious thought before he hit a spot so deep inside you you swear you saw stars being born.

You became a being of pure sensation, every powerful thrust sending you screaming further and faster toward your second release.

Head tipped back and veins in his neck bulging, he growled through clenched teeth. It rumbled through him like an earthquake, sending tremors through you that sent you into the stratosphere.

You didn't even have the presence of mind to warn him before liquid fire shot down your spine. You cried out as it tore through you, and you swear it felt like you were the star being born.

His grip tightened as you clenched around him and he followed suit, your name tearing from his throat in a roar as you milked him dry.

When you came down, you were both breathing hard, and gripping each other tightly. You remained in his lap and he pressed his forehead to yours, "You okay...?" He asked, nervously, "I didn't hurt you did I?"

You shook your head and couldn't help the soft laughter that escaped you, "No..." As you lifted your head and gazed up at him, the glare of early morning light against shattered glass caught your attention and you looked around. "Oh... Oh dear..."

You both took a moment to survey the carnage. It looked like a bomb went off. Shattered glass, ceramic, and splintered wood littered the carpet, there was a hole in the wall behind the bedframe, which was now crooked and probably fully broken, and there were no framed pictures left on the wall.

You met his eyes and he seemed afraid you were going to be mad. But how could you be mad? If this wasn't the best fucking metaphor for your relationship you'd ever come across.

He'd ruined your life completely, in the best possible ways.

You couldn't help it. You started laughing. And you couldn't stop. And then he joined in and you were both laughing with tears streaming down your faces and you kissed him. You kissed him like he's the last person you will ever kiss, and if you have your way he will be.

But that was a *later* conversation. Still is.

For now, your happy enough to just continue to let him be the best of both worlds.

....

You turn your back, you're a broken man

You come around and just dying to shake your hand

I don't expect you to understand

Just keep telling yourself there's no shame

They don't know 'bout who we are

They don't know 'bout you and I

They ain't know 'bout the stars of your eyes

Oh hot blood love is gonna get ya

You wanna prove you're the better man

You wanna reach for the things that nobody can

Oh all you need is to break away, yeah

Just keep telling yourself there's no shame

They don't know 'bout who we are

They don't know 'bout you and I

They ain't know 'bout the stars of your eyes

Oh hot blood love is gonna get ya

Hot Blood, Kaleo

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

[aetherrx]

Kim gitae with reader who ran away maybe?(strangers to lovers basically) Anything you like as long it has smut 🙏😔

Gitae x Reader | That Strange Man

Disclaimer |fem!reader | Oral | P in V | Choking wc|3.4k Note: Sorry this took so long. I struggle when it comes to writing about Gitae as we don't really know much about him yet. Hope you Enjoy! •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

18+ MDNI | ✦ . 　⁺ 　. ✦ . 　⁺ 　. ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Mexico.

Fucking Mexico.

You’d have slit the throat of any person who’d simply indicated that you would run away, to another country, with your tail tucked between your legs. You were a beast; you were the villain. You weren’t the one that ran, the imbecilic human parasites that surrounded you, were the ones that ran.

They ran from you.

But not anymore.

You were a wounded animal, a dethroned tyrant running from death. That black eyed bastard would get his comeuppance, you’d make sure of it. But, for now, you were stuck licking your wounds in the scorching heat of Mexico, dodging the creepy, slimy looks from rogue cartel members.

To think that the black-eyed bastard had been on your level made you fume with unquenched, fiery rage. You weren’t the only injured rat scurrying away; no, no, no, before that fight ended, you made damn sure to damage the fucker beyond repair, just like he’d done to you, and that jagged scar running down your back.

You sighed, running a hand through your unruly strands as the wind fluttered through, smashing its warm touch against your cheeks. Your legs ached; your temples throbbed with an impeding headache.

You simply wanted this day to end already.

Peeking around, you finally noticed your unfamiliar surroundings, now realising why you were receiving so many weird, slimy looks. The streets in this area all looked very similar, weaving and crossing into one-another, as if they all led to the same centre.

You cursed silently, the sudden realisation that you may have just wondered into the nest of one of the most dangerous cartels in Mexico, which was said to have had its main base in this city.

It was just your luck, to run into the most infamous cartel in Mexico, all because you were stuck in your own head.

This is why you take care to survey your surroundings, dipshit, you scolded yourself, letting out a quiet, scattered sigh as your turned to leave. You could feel holes lasering into your back but chose to ignore it. Better to flee now before more attention is wrought upon you.

Your legs swept rapidly across the cracking pavements, determined to reach the shopping centre and the better side of town, as soon as possible. You may be able to fight, but you cannot fight against a gun.

You could certainly try, but more often than not, gun fights ended with a trip to the hospital or a trip down under. You did not want to be going down under anytime soon.

You sighed with relief as the light churned and burst in front of the last alleyway, your form stepping out into the heavenly light, its beams caressing gently at your cheeks.

You turned to the right, your body colliding into a large, solid wall. You frowned, wincing as your still-injured shoulder smashed into the hard material.

A frown furrowed your brows as you noticed the very warm skin, and very real leather jacket on this supposed ‘wall’. Of-fucking-course. You’re so smart, a wall, she said. You scoffed internally, eyes peeking upwards and clashing with dead, tired eyes.

He’s kind of… handsome. And Korean?

“Oh, sorry,” You apologised in Korean, bowing before you turned to leave. A harsh grip wrapped itself around your wrist before you could leave, causing your eyes to narrow with annoyance. Why do I always have to beat fuckers up in every country I go to?

“Korean?” his timbre was low and grumbly, like a quiet tiger creeping through the night, deadly but silent. His tone brushed over you deliciously, sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine. You could feel that jagged scar running up your back tingling, filling with heat and itching at the sides.

Your head tilted slightly, eyes clashing to meet his again, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden light twinkling in his dark irises. “Yes?” you answered his question, eyes lowering to his still too-tight grip on your wrist. “Can I help you?” you asked robotically, eyes void and face mostly blank, like always. He watched you with something akin to curiosity across his features, his grip loosening only slightly. You still couldn’t ignore the intimidating aura surrounding this mysterious man, the cold, detached look behind his eyes.

He was a bit like you, really, just harsher, darker and more serious, which you assumed came with age. He looked at least five years older than yourself, with tired bags beneath his eyelids. It made him seem more… enigmatic, in a way.

“Be careful down there,” he stated simply, as if words of protection were foreign to his own lips. You nodded, though filled with confusion, tugging your hand from his completely loosened grip with quite a bit of force.  He looked down at your free hand, eyebrow raised and a hint of curiosity in his gaze, as he stared you down.

You felt almost shy behind the towering walls surrounding your mind, the single place you locked away all and any type of feeling, hiding and cowering in the dark as you put on an emotionless front.

“Thankyou…?” you frowned, tilting away from the strange, towering male. “I’ll… see you around,” you stated simply, finally taking the initiative to walk away, ignoring the continued warm touch against your back, his eyes a never leaving presence until your form disappeared into the far distance, where his eyes could no longer brush with their detached look.

¬

¬

You hadn’t been able to get that strange man’s presence out of your life for the past two months. You’d sworn you’d felt the heavy impact of his gaze over the first few weeks, your eyes peeking at every corner in attempt to find the strangely alluring man.

During the second month, you’d bumped into him again, though you were sure he’d planned it accordingly. “You again?” you murmured, head tilting upwards to peer into his eyes. He’d looked almost proud, as if nobody somewhat normal had ever looked him in the eye without trembling with fear.

You knew who he was now, having searched up Mexican cartels once you’d reached your shabby apartment on the other side of town. There wasn’t a single full-face shot of the mysterious man, only a single snap of the side of his head, his usual slicked back hair brushing against the sliver of skin shown to the side of the shot.

You’d thought of him as dangerous, but you hadn’t realised he’d been the leader, the drug lord, of one of the most notorious cartels in the entirety of Mexico.

“Me again,” he’d stated, eyes peering into yours, almost as if he’d had invisible hands reaching into your Scalera and into your brain, trying to pry it open and reveal all your secrets to him. However, you were no sissy, and you certainly weren’t a weakling.

Not many could say they’d been up against Gun Park at full strength and injured him. Though, he did injure you beyond repair, too.

You brushed thoughts of that man behind, there was no use dwelling on the death threats that made you scurry away to Mexico in the first place.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” He said as he slung you towards the corner of the alley, just away from the shopping centre.

Away from prying eyes.

You nodded mutely. If he put an end to you, then so be it. You’d lived your life, though not much of it, and it’d been pretty ass so far. You’d been scarred and hurt and broken, but you would not let your mind break. It was one of the only things you had left to yourself, and if you had to get murdered to keep your mind your own, unbroken and untouched, then so be it.

“Yet, you aren’t running,” he mused, tapping a finger against your temple as you looked on emotionlessly. “I don’t care for the horror or fear of death. I have lived, and I have died in many ways already. Kill me or don’t, I don’t have the capacity to care or think of it,” you told him stiffly, eyes narrowed, and tone agitated. He smirked, a teasing, out of this world smirk.

You’d felt like you’d been stabbed into a secret, one you and only you’d be able to hold and nurture and protect.

“Come with me,” he ordered, his hand wrapping around your forearm as he dragged you behind him. “Why? Where are you taking me?” you demanded, feet tapping rapidly as you tried to keep up with his pace.

“There is no one in this world I care for, respect or love. But you,” he let out a cackling laugh, a laugh so beautiful, you’d found it hard to continue breathing. Breathtaking. “You, my angel, have somehow earned a slither of my emotion; emotion I do not usually feel.”

He came to an abrupt halt, turning on you as he crowded you against another stray wall. “But that’s the thing about emotion, angel. I’m the monster of your story, and you are the light that smothers me. I’ll ruin you; I’ll ruin you so beautiful, and you’ll simply adore me for it,” he crooned into your ear, warm lips touching and suckling at your lobe and the large expanse of skin beneath.

I’ll ruin you.

You couldn’t help but let out a stray moan as his hand lowers to squeeze against your clothed breast, cheeks heating at the feel of his lips tipping upwards against your neck, an array of goosebumps lighting up across your skin.

His hand lowered beneath your shirt, shoving up inside your bra as his fingers tweaked your nipple. Bursts of pain and pleasure slithered through your charged veins, the throb between your legs growing more and more.

Your cheeks heated even more as you felt the wetness between your thighs start to gather, his fingers reaching down from your breasts to the waistband of your shorts, fingers dipping beneath your underwear as his index finger dipped into your tight cunt.

“Look at you, so wet for me. After all you know about me, what I’ve done and what I do. Your pussy’s weeping for my fingers, for my cock,” he breathed against your ear, his erection pressing against your side, and you could already tell he was big.

“I’m not going to fuck you today, my angel,” he said as his fingers thrust in and out of your soaping pussy, squelching noises filling and echoing your surroundings, proof of your wetness and absolute need for this psychotic man. He added another finger, stretching your tight channel further, his thumb circling your clit, and you couldn’t help but grind against his hand. “I’m going to fuck you dumb with my fingers, make you shake and tremble with pleasure, before I leave you here as if I was just your ghost,” he murmured, his third finger sliding into your pussy, adding and stretching and exploding your pleasure, reaching you to heights you never thought, with just a simple finger fucking.

For all evil this man was, he knew how to get a girl off really good. You found it harder and harder to reign your moans in, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his fingers thrusted deeper and deeper into your tight channel, pleasure coiling and burning in your stomach.

His hands were so big, his fingers stretched you so wide and strong, you were just so full. The heat across your cheeks darkened as your eyes fully rolled back, spine arching into him as you came all over his fingers, a quiet scream escaping your lips at the ecstasy firing through your blood.

“You come so prettily, too,” he hummed, finger beneath your chin as he tiped your head up, forcing your embarrassed gaze to his. “Next time I want you to scream my name as you come all over me. I’ll see you again soon, my angel,” he whispered, his body disappearing from your dishevelled state in a fraction of a second, a single name carrying across the wind.

Gitae Kim.

Your eyebrows furrow, suspicion arising at his rapid speed.

Is he like Gun Park? And that last name…

¬

¬

It had only been a week since then, a total of almost three months since you’d met the man at all. Gitae Kim was a total enigma, one you knew came from the first generation. You’d not a doubt in your mind, that he’d somehow been involved with James Lee, who was only a couple of years older than yourself.

You hadn’t known what to think of the man. You either thought wary or lusty thoughts, neither deterring you from wanting to seek him out, to just see him. It had been as if he’d planted his very own obsession inside of you, your thoughts consumed with him and only him. He was never one to stray from your thoughts, and you needed to see him again.

At least until you left to go back to Korea. You’d felt like you’d recovered enough from your injury and felt it time you go back home. But, before you went back, you just wanted to gaze upon Gitae Kim one last time.

That was how you found yourself wondering down the dingy, shadowed alleyway under the ghastly gloom of the moon. Peeks of light filtered through the small gaps in the building as your feet patted quietly against the concrete pavement.

Your hood masked your hair and disguised your feminine form from any creepers, your stature looking like that of a mans as you traversed through the multiple alleyways, face set into a determined expression as you stalked forward.

“What do we have here,” a slimy male voice crooned from the side of you, his gaze clicking with the other man opposite you. “A little boy’s gotten lost,” The other males voice snickered, just as you felt shivers track down your spine.

Fuck, I didn’t want to be noticed.

In your hurry to get to Gitae, you’d completely forgone your usual masked presence, feet patting loudly and obviously, which had obviously wrought you unwanted attention.

You really didn’t feel like fighting two massive, fully-grown adult males right now. Though they weren’t as menacing as Gitae, you couldn’t help but think they were strong, and that you weren’t at your best. No, you were probably at your worst, even after mostly recovering. Now that you’d reflected, you’d probably barely recovered at all.

Maybe they’ll take me to Gitae. If not, I’ll have to use what’s left of my recovered energy, to take them out.

“You should know better than to come to this side of the city, boy,” one of the goons snickered, their hand wrenching the back of your neck in a tight grip, before dragging you forwards, deeper into the nest of the Cartel.

What felt like eons, but was likely only minutes, finally passed, and you found yourself bang in the middle of the cartel gang. Men of all sizes surrounded the space in a funny-looking circle, and a single man- Gitae – sat on a metal, rectangular box, at the front of the space.

“Sir, we found this boy lurking on the outskirts of our den,” the goon holding you explain, head bowed in respect, as the other goons grip tightened harshly on your upper arm. You could see Gitae’s eyes narrowing on you menacingly, but you couldn’t find it in you to be scared.

You knew this was what he was really like, he was an infamous cartel drug-lord, for one, and the menacing aura that had always followed him like a shadow should have made that fact even more obvious.

Gitae stops in front of you, his hand tugging down your hood. A flash of recognition flies through his eyes, his lip lifting into a rare smirk at the mutters echoing around the space.

“A little Birdy got lost,” He crooned, before his face fell flat and his expression became one of stone. “However, this little birdy is here for me.” His gaze narrows on his followers. “Get to work,” he barked, before grabbing your arm and stalking towards a single door to the right of the space.

He leads you into what you assume is quarters, leading you deep into the home, then tugging open a door hidden in an enclosed corner. “My angel came to find me,” He murmured, his hand holding your cheek as he towered over you.

“I wanted to see you before I left,” You blurted out, cheeks heating at your lack of brain around this one man. “Left?” He asked, tone stoney, while his eyes dragged you into his storm. “I’m going back to Korea,” you said, not breaking eye contact with the menace.

Gitae smirked, “And you wanted to see me one last time?” Despite yourself, and despite his mocking smile, you couldn’t help but nod at his question.

That was before you found yourself flat against soft satin sheets, a red hue flushed across your cheeks, eyes hazed with lust and lips parted into a tiny pout as Gitaes large cocked rammed in and out of your opening.

“Ngh~ slow down,” you whimpered, the sound of obscene squelching filling the room as Gitae rutted in and out of your wet cunt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, at the delicious stretch of your pussy around his thick cock.

He smirked, lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he angled his hips, hitting you deeper and deeper with each thrust, until you could almost feel him at the bottom of your stomach. “We all know you’re a slut for my cock, my angel. Shut up and take me like a good girl.”

You could see the haze of lust blurring his vision as his thrust became quicker and sloppier, your vision blacking out for a second, as his hand wrapped around your throat squeezed with an almost gentle pressure.

His pelvis brushed and slid against your weeping clitoris with every single thrust into your squelching cunt, pleasure soring through your veins as your mouth parted with a partially loud moan. The tightness in your stomach exploded, your pussy clenching down onto Gitae’s cock as you came, nails digging into his shoulders and drawing blood as you rode out your orgasm.

Still sensitive, you were overloaded with aftershocks of pleasure as Gitae carried on ploughing into your tight channel, thrusts becoming harder and harder as he chased his own high. A small, gravely groan escaped his lips as he came, the feel of cold matter entering you causing you to explode around his cock one last time.

His still semi-hard cock left your tight cunt, his lips locking with yours as you battled tongues. A trail of saliva connected you before he broke off and moved down your body, head burrowing to peek at your swollen, pink cunt, still flowing with your juices and his cum.

His wet appendage sprung out, licking and sucking at your tender clit. You moaned out in protest, pussy clenching and eyes rolling back at the overstimulation. “Don’t try and protest, my angel. I can see your needy cunt clenching right in front of my eyes,” He crooned into your cunt, his voice vibrating against your sensitive channel as he slipped his tongue into your cunt, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow circles.

That swirling ball of pleasure grew again in your stomach, tightening and tightening as his tongue thrust in and out of your wet cunt, squelching and obscene sounds becoming louder and louder as you moaned and screamed on is tongue.

Your orgasm rushed through you at the added pressure against your clit, your hands reaching to clutch at Gitae’s raven locks as you came on his tongue. “Delicious.” You watched with flushed cheeks as he loomed over you, the residual of your juices marring his mouth and chin.

He leaned over you, lips licking at your juices left on his mouth before his breath hit your ear. “I think I’ve become particularly addicted to the taste of your pussy, my angel. I’ll be coming with you to Korea.”

You had a feeling he’d already been set on returning to Korea before you came into the picture, he’d just decided to take you with him on his menacing mission of destruction.

You couldn’t say you weren’t looking forward to it.

[therookieimagines]

Not that he cares...or anything.. - Tim Bradford x reader part one

Summary: After an argument with your TO you request a change, after a rough fight at home it leaves your Training officer to not only save your life, but unknowingly give you meaning in life as well.

warnings: Details of being shot, shooting someone else, you almost dying, your roommate being a creep

You were a rookie with the LAPD, working alongside some of the best, trying your hardest to do whatever is right, but today, your head was foggy, you were going through a thing with your roommate who had a thing for you, and now after politely declining, he's kicking you out.

You were out on a call with your training officer, Tim Bradford, he was no doubt an amazing officer, but you also agreed he was hard on his rookies, and for you it hurt because you actually felt like you two were pretty close, most times not having to communicate with each other on calls, you both just understood the other. "God Damnit, Boot! RUN! The suspect is running!" He screamed as he took off over the fence, you snapped back into reality, taking off in a sprint to cut off the drug dealer on the other side of the alley, but as you rounded the corner, you saw that Tim had already gotten him apprehended, and you could tell by the deadly glare he gave you, you were on his chopping block. You followed behind silently as he shoved the guy into the back of your guys' shop, slamming the back door before taking a long deep breath "O-Officer Bradford I can-" He cut you off by walking away to the driver side "I don't give a shit get in" He snapped as he slammed his door, you gulped down tears as you took your seat in the passenger, he didn't speak a single word the entire way back to the station.

As you booked your suspect you made your way over to John sighing "I think I screwed things up with Bradford" You sighed slumping against the wall "I'm sorry, hey maybe we can get drinks after shift? Sorry Harper and I are about to leave on a huge lead, talk when-" He couldn't finish his sentence before your fate was sealed "Rookie! The shop! Now!" Bradford shouted from the garage door, you rushed over, holding your service belt to keep anything from falling out while you jogged, as you loaded into the shop you held your breath, waiting for the lecture. "So..should I just..shoot you now?" He asked, his tone dripping with anger "W-what?..why?" You asked, confused on why'd he'd ever need to shoot you "Because what if that suspect had a weapon?! part of being a cop is always staying vigilant! and you failed today!" he shouted, his hand smacking against the steering wheel, out of instinct from the last week you flinched towards the door, your hand immediately popping to the door handle ready to run. Tim took notice, he just didn't want to see you hurt or worse, especially under his watch..not that he cared about you..or anything.

Tim didn't see you the next day, you had showed up early to request a temporary T.O change, you just felt like you had crossed a line with Bradford and it'd be better to just give him space. Tim on the other hand was stressed the entire shift, making sure to listen to any radio calls from you or Detective Harper, not that he cared..or anything.. John had taken notice of Tim obvious behavior change "Forgive me if i'm wrong, but you're kinda acting like you care about y/n, alot" He suggested watching as Bradford shot him a dirty glare pulling up on scene to come in as back-up for you. "Listen here, rookie, I do not care for y/n, I am doing my job, They needed back-up, we're responding" He snapped getting out, following in behind you and Harper.

You sighed changing into your street clothes and heading to your car, trying to avoid Tim at any chance "Boot! Real quick!" You heard his voice shout as you went to open your car door "Listen, about yesterday-" You cut him off "Officer Bradford, really it's no big-" it was his turn to cut you off "It is, I lost my cool, and as a cop, training officer...and..friend..it wasn't okay" He admitted "So I'm sorry" You sighed "Tim, it's okay, I just figured you needed space, now I gotta get home, get some stuff handled" You smiled before getting in your car, starting it up.

Before you could realize you were home, you slowly approached the steps, still keeping your hand on your service belt, you had taken your belt home with you, signing it out just incase things went sideways. As you opened the door you could immediately tell something was off, the tv was on but muted, the stove was still on high with a boiling pot of some type of weird liquid, it wasn't just that though, you could sense something was bad, you slowly pulled up your radio, trying to stay quiet "This is Officer Y/n l/n badge number 49336, I need a cruiser sent to 39213 hollywood avenue for assistance in eviction" Tim heard you over his own radio at home, immediately running to his truck "Dispatch, This is Officer Tim Bradford Badge number 34831, please clock me in for duty, responding to Officer l/n's back call" He said into his radio as he sped to your address, knowing damn well something was happening.

You didn't even make it to your bedroom before you were body slammed into your hallway wall, you roommate yanking your gun out of your holster taking aim "You stupid bitch!" He shouted, you gulped, raising your hands as you tried to back into the wall further like it could hide you from the danger that was right in front of you. "L-Listen, We don't have to do it like this, you can just put the-" He cut you off by firing you gun, you couldn't feel the bullet bust into your stomach like you always thought, you just felt the stabbing burning pain it left as it went through your body. You fell to the ground watching as your roommate rushed to you pressing his hands down on your wound "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean t-too" He shouted, you went into flight or fight, only remembering your training, you could hear Bradford shouting in your head 'take out the threat, rookie!' You reached the gun that he dropped next to the both of you, quickly firing two shots into his chest watching him fall back, you let your body go limp, taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, exhausted from everything that had happened that day.

Tim rushed in, two other on-duty uniforms following behind "You two clear the main rooms, I'll go in the back, check the bedrooms, she's gotta be here somewhere" He demanded, pulling his phone out calling your cell phone still holding his gun in the air as he cleared the rooms, dropping his phone whenever he saw the bottom of your work boot peeking around the corner of the hallway, a tiny trail of blood slowly running to Bradford's shoe "Y/n!" He shouted "I need an RA! Now!" He screamed, he wasn't concerned for your roommate at all, it was obvious you had lost a lot of blood, your uniform was soaked through, the white patches showing your rank were now dark red, along with your hair. He never left your side, he was the one preforming CPR until your pulse was back, he was the one by your bedside for two weeks, he was the first person you saw whenever you woke up.

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the dark room, the bright wall clock telling you it was a little past one in the morning, as you looked around you jumped seeing a body sprawled out on a hospital bed somewhat close to yours, he couldn't of made it, you shot him repeatedly. You could hear your heart monitors beep increase as you went over every possibility of him living, there was no way, right as you thought you were going to pass out, the door opened with a nurse and doctor, and the man near you sprung awake, you were met with a shirtless Tim Bradford, with messy hair, that was normally always styled perfectly. "Look who's up" The doctor greeted as Tim bolted to your bedside "You're alright, boot, you were shot, but we got there just in time, you okay" He explained, you were slowly calming down, still confused on how you ended up shot, last thing you remembered you were finishing up a call with Tim about a robbery.

Tim explained everything over the course of the rest of the night, slowly he moved from his 'bed' to the chair next to your bed, to next to you in your bed as you both watched one of the uniform's bodycam footage per your request. Tim's eyes were on you the entire time, worried about how you may react seeing your own body basically dead, your eyes stayed glued on the scene, not realizing your smile peeked out a little seeing Tim already waiting by your door, his truck basically parked on your porch. Your body froze seeing the footage veer around your hallway to reveal the bloody scene, your eyes chose to focus on something other than the trauma that was everywhere "were you...holding me crying, Bradford?" You asked turning to look at him smirking "No! I was not crying! you couldn't tell but it was raining" He said, he couldn't help but smile at you "Fine! but..you weren't..you weren't awake! I-I thought I lost my first rookie on my watch" He explained trying to write it off as not caring that much about you still.

You just leaned into his shoulder pushing him a bit "Don't lie Bradford" You giggled, to your surprise he just sighed wrapping his arm around you "You scared me good..don't do it again..please.." He whispered pressing a kiss to the top of your head, holding onto you tight for the rest of night.

don't worry my children there will be a part two with so much more fluff and sappy Bradford, I just needed some good backstory lore ;)